#farm theme mugs

[yourcoffeeguru]

Vintage BILTONS made in ENGLAND Farm House and Horse Design Mug SWtradepost - ebay

[hunnylagoon]

Candy

PT1: Sober to Death

Ellie Williams x Reader

I’m home and here to stay like a ghost to haunt. You can’t shake me off your back for I linger in your head like carelessly uttered curse. Summer falls to ashes in my mouth and so I will spit them into your urn, just like that all of my devotion turns violent.

Premise: After a mental break you are being held together by nothing but glitter glue and craft yarn. You seek refuge with an old friend in a coastal town to live the life you thought you left behind.

Warnings: SENSITIVE THEMES / reader is a recovered addict / mentions of drug and alcohol abuse / angst / brief mentions of violence / possibly triggering discussions of drug addiction

Read at your own discretion

Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal has been forced into a cage where it thrashes and screams. Perhaps I will turn into a snarling wolf and rip out the throats of each girl who made me go home crying in middle school. Maybe I will don the pelt of a sheep and surprise all of those who convinced me it was a good idea to try ketamine when I shed my cloak and reveal my long curled claws and fangs sharp as knives.

I'm heartless at worst and helpless at best.

I don't know how else to be. I was raised like a stick of dynamite lit from both ends and I can describe in detail how the earth warps beneath my feet or how I watch the sky bend until it snaps and collapses onto a body too tired to lift it back up.

Everything miles ahead of what I was, to them, I was only ever an addict. Cursed with the nickname 'popper' since tenth grade and everyone thought it to be nothing more than a joke they didn't know how I found serenity in the tablet of acid that rested on my tongue. 

It started with pot and drinking on the weekends then flew into full-blown benders when I swallowed back synthetic sunshine like it was candy. None of my friends thought I would end up with my back plastered on my dorm floor, eyes wide with what once was a bottle of pills frothing out of my mouth. 

It took me two overdoses to get here, had to put my white blood cells to work.

"I didn't think you'd be up this early," Joel smiled at me, he was nursing a mug of coffee, a plate in front of him with a half-eaten piece of toast and a golden yoke running onto the porcelain. That might've been my favourite thing about the farm, fresh eggs. Once you have them you can never go back to the sad pale grocery store eggs.

"That makes two of us," I pulled out a chair from the wooden dining table and sat down. Joel had put so much love into this home. These days I’m too nauseous to eat breakfast.

"Ellie doesn't even wake up this early," He took a slug of his black coffee, the scent was strong, filling up the entire house, I could smell it the second I woke up. "How's the room? Is everything to your liking?"

I had felt so guilty for free-loading off Joel whom I hadn't seen since I was twelve, it had been eight years. He sent me cards on my birthday every year but I never was able to grasp how close our parents had been. I'm pretty sure I was friends with Ellie when I was little, there were pictures of the two of us hugging each other and playing beneath sprinklers, my front teeth missing, Ellie covered head to toe in Spider-Man band-aids. I didn't have any recollection of us when we were close, as we got older we got more stiff around each other. When my family would visit, she would hang out with her friends and I would keep to myself. Of course, my parents moved us to the city where everything hit me too hard all at once. "It's perfect, thank you."

"It's pretty hard to peel yourself off that mattress, huh?" Joel smiled at me, showing me every ounce of warmth he had when I was a child.

I nod in response "So much more comfortable than those stiff dorm mattresses," It almost felt like I was making conversation with a ghost.

"Since you're up so early, care for a tour while I do some chores?" He asked. I had been here a few days already, though I just kept to myself I didn't want to impose on his pleasant life with his daughter who hadn't called him at three am sobbing because she had too many opioids. I had wandered briefly around the farm of course and I had remembered bits and pieces of it from my childhood but I felt so out of place that I mainly locked myself inside of my temporary room and lived through my friend's Instagram stories.

"I'd love to," I smile politely, unsure of what else to do. 

 "Do you think you're gonna go back to school?" Joel asked as he stood up with his plate and mug in hand and began to wash them in the stainless steel sink. "No pressure, there's life outside of a lecture hall."

This was a question I had been thinking about day in and day out. I was a year and then some into getting my degree when my 'fun habits' began spiralling uncontrollably. My parents had managed to snag me a two-year deferral so I could go to rehab and go back to school the following year but I was so full of shame that I shook with the thought of going back. For the first time in my life, I am afraid I have no real desires. 

When I was dead inside a motel bathtub, I thought I needed to be somewhere different but now that I'm there, I need to be someone different too. "I'm not really sure right now, just please don't tell my parents I said that."

"Secrets safe with me," He opens a cabinet and pulls out a bag of cat food, shaking it until a scrawny calico cat appears out of thin air. Pepper happily devours the food Joel puts in her little bowl. I remembered Pepper, she was a kitten way back then and I would cut open socks to make clothes for her. "You should just know that it's never too late."

Very early in my life, it was too late. "Thanks, Joel," Not yet a corpse and still I rot like all of my ambitions turn to sludge at my tired feet.

He looks around, exhaling a deep breath, trying to scope out anything else he has to do in the kitchen. "You outta get geared up, I'm gonna wake up Ellie then me and you can get to work."

I nod in agreement even though I'm not sure what he means by 'gear up' so I figure that's just him saying to put on a hoodie and some rain boots. I stand awkwardly by the door, waiting for Joel. Absentmindedly I rock back and forth on my heels hands clasped together. I'm twenty years old but I feel like I'm twelve again, trying to find a place for myself in someone else's life. 

I thought of the last time I was in this house. I was twelve, unaware of the future that awaited me, I had buried a time capsule with Ellie and her cousins somewhere on this property. Writing to my future self, talking about all of the things I should be. If only she saw the brain-rotten zombie that was her destiny.

My parents had told everyone back home I was backpacking across Australia and taking a break from academics to see the world. In the eyes of those who knew me well and were more than aware of what happened, it was a shame to them that I had wasted a sharp brain and a pretty face. It takes a whole lot of strength the endure myself.

It doesn't take long for Joel to walk back down the creaky stairs, Ellie trailing behind him, sleep in her eyes. She's in boxers and one of Joel's old t-shirts, hair still messy and unbrushed. Ellie yawns and gives me a little wave- it wasn't really a wave, just her raising a hand in my direction as an acknowledgment. 

We hadn't spoken much since I got here, I had met her in the past but we didn't know each other. A lot can change in eight years. She wasn't unfriendly toward me, we indulged in small talk and laughed at each other's jokes but each conversation was so shallow I wanted to lay face down and drown in them. 

Ellie goes straight for the fridge, unlike her dad, she pours milk into a sickly sweet cereal which seems cavity-inducing. She was back from college for the summer, taking advantage of her father's love and food. Joel walked over to where I was standing at the door, slipping into his mucking boots. "While you're both here," He says before looking at me "How much do you know about boats?"

I furrow my eyebrows "A good bit I guess?" I answer, figuring he was just trying to rekindle a spark between Ellie and me that had been put out eight years ago by rain, ocean spray, and vodka.

"Y'know, Els," He gestures towards me "This one used to work at her parent's marina, they tell me she's done a couple of repairs and I bet she could give you some pointers on how to fix up that boat." I'm confused by his words, this is the first I've heard about a boat. Joel can see the uncertainty on my face "Her uncle gave her a piece of shit boat last summer before she went back to school, over the year I guess some teenagers thought it was a good hideout and trashed it even more."

"Seriously?" Her head pokes up "It would be great if you could come down with me later, she just needs a little love," Ellie spoons some cereal into her mouth. I had always thought it weird how people spoke about their boats like they were women, I even caught myself doing it on occasion. "Only if you want to, of course."

"Sure," I agree, no idea how much repair this boat was in need of "I've got nothing better to do."

I could tell Joel counted this as a win. I knew he had been commuting with my parents and how desperately they wanted me to keep myself occupied for the summer. "Well, we've got some work to do, kiddo."

After a solid five hours of following Joel around like a duckling and re-learning all the names of the animals, I was walking with Ellie toward her pickup truck. "Wanna drive?" She asks as we walk to the long beaten driveway

"Oh, I can't." The coolness of the morning has ebbed away into a borderline unbearable heat, I wasn't sure how Ellie was absolutely unfazed in her Jeans, T-shirt, and trucker hat. 

"You never got your licence?"

"No, it got taken away."

She cracks a grin "Jeez, what did you do? Hit a pedestrian?" Ellie teases.

"Something like that," Truthfully, my licence got revoked after I got a DUI and swerved my car off the highway, I was too high to realize the danger I was in and laughed the entire time warm blood pooled from a gash in my head that had to be stapled shut. Luckily my parents can throw money at anything and the problem will go away. 

She hops in the truck, there are little bits and pieces of it that show how it's lived in. A rubber duck with sunglasses sits on the dashboard and I'm partially surprised it hasn't melted in the sweltering heat. 

As beautiful and scenic as the drive down to the docks is, it's also extremely awkward, only on my end, Ellie seems completely unfazed. Travelling down the dirt roads until we finally hit the pavement. 

The salty breeze of Andromeda Cove carries conversations of clubbing and tanning, mingling with the sweet scent of coconut sunscreen and sea salt. Colourful beach umbrellas dot the shoreline. Seagulls glide effortlessly overhead, their calls blending seamlessly with the distant laughter of beachgoers. Quaint shops and cafes line the bustling boardwalk, offering an array of surfboards, souvenirs, and freshly caught seafood delicacies.

The Cove was immune to those gross and bland modern buildings that looked like something I would've made in Minecraft as a kid. Everything down here was local and kept its charm even after all these years. "Do you ever miss it here?" 

"I don't remember much of it to be honest."

"Really?" She asks, taking a turn down to the docks "It doesn't seem like it was that long ago."

"Yeah, my memory just isn't very good." My lungs are burnt and my brain is fried. You could tell me that I was in cheerleading for five years of my life and I would probably believe you. 

"Alright." 

I hadn't remembered her being this quiet but then again I don't remember much, I should probably write down everything I can before Alzheimer's sets in. There are lapses in my mind where memories should live, I recall my life through glimpses.

Ellie takes her keys out of the ignition and hops out of the truck, leading me down the docks. I keep guessing in my head which boat belongs to her and then the second I spot it, I know and how I dread. It's a sailboat or what's left of one, sharpie graffiti scribbled all around it. The word 'wanderlust' had once been titled along the side though the first half was scratched out by what I assume were those teenagers Joel mentioned so it just said 'lust'.

Ellie had no problem climbing aboard, I on the other hand had doubts that it could support the weight of two people, let alone itself. There were chips of white paint scraped off, Ellie motioned for me to get on deck  "How long has this been abandoned?"

She waves me off  "There's freedom that comes with abandonment."

I raise an eyebrow "Sinking in a boat that's docked is a very lame way to die."

"Nah," She says "We can haunt the marina."

She holds out her hand for me to take it and with hesitation, I do. Stepping over the gap between the dock and the boat, I haul myself over the rails. Even in the dark, I could make that climb, it was almost like muscle memory from working at my parents marina summer after summer. "She's a beauty, yeah? In her own special kind of way," Ellie pats the side of the companionway. "I actually made some progress on it last summer, if you can believe me."

"I don't know if I can," I look around, following her as we duck into the saloon.

She reaches for a notebook with a pink sharpie clipped onto it on the table of the saloon and turns to face me "Whoever was here must've been a real wordsmith, what I can't figure out is how the words got out of the notebook and onto my walls." 

I crawl onto the cushioned V-berth to get a better look at all of the writing on the walls. Most of it had been poetry, not Edgar Allen Poe but the kind that only an angsty teenage girl on the verge of a mental break could've written. 

The Statue of Juliette:

May I ask what you have done to women?

That your hands have only learned to harm one

Hand after filthy hand

Is dragged

Groped

Caressed

Prodded

Over my rusted skin

The things I have seen

The things I have endured

No water can clean me

No blanket can warm me

Take a hammer to my bronze flesh

And I will thank you for your kindness

As my body crumbles and clatters against cobblestone

I am eternally grateful

For this is the gentlest act I have ever faced

"I know," Ellie says, and I look back to meet her sharp gaze "A real Sylvia Plath.”

"Is this your candle?" I reach for it on the ground, it's halfway through its life. A vanilla bean bath and bodyworks candle.

She takes it from my hand and gives it a sniff "I was wondering why it smelled so good in here, I just thought that was you." She places the candle back onto the saloon table "So, Neptune's daughter, where should we start?"

I snatch the notebook from the table and flip it open to a page clean of any writing. It takes a little less than fifteen minutes to seek out all of the trouble spots. Ellie followed behind me and nodded to everything that I was saying. 

The boat isn't in nearly as bad of condition as I expected. I suspected that the teenagers who occupied it while Ellie was away at college had all been girls, they took relatively good care of the boat aside from the graffiti, allegedly most of the damage had been there when Ellie got it from Tommy a year ago.

We now sat next to each other in the booth around the saloon table, the ocean rocked the boat beneath us ever so gently, the same way a mother would rock her child's cradle. I missed the sea when I was in college, on a bender I had driven three hours just to be back with it, it seemed the only safe place to let go and be reborn. I liked the sharpness of the air, the vastness of the horizon and the mystery beneath it. I thought I would rise from the seafoam a new woman the same way Aphrodite did but no, I threw up on the sandy shores and called my parents to make it go away.

I give the notebook over to Ellie, a new entry written in bright pink Sharpie amongst the poetry and anecdotes. 

Wanderlust's issues:

Mainsail and jib seem sketchy; Unfold the hoist for a full assessment

Wiring issues are out of my hands but a probable concern-should probably call in an expert

Nav instruments are cracked

Leaks on starboard window, probs cracked moulding

Interior woodwork is original, mainly solid despite a bit of mildew

Graffiti and chipped paint, graffiti likely cleanable (May need a new coat of paint)

Possible rigging issues

Underside? That's a question for the experts

Final Verdict: Wanderlust is a seaworthy vessel in need of some love

Ellie lets out a low whistle "God, I love a girl who knows the difference between a mainsail and a jib." She cracks a mischievous grin.

"You're teetering very close between sexy and crass," I tease her in return.

She seems a little taken aback by my comment, like she hadn't anticipated a response but ignores it nonetheless "What would it take to make you my first mate?"

"I'm sorry?"

"For someone with a bad memory, you seem to know your boats, Joel said that you used to work on charters. You gotta know more about sailing than me. It'll be a fun summer project, get you out of the house a bit."

I furrow my eyebrows as I look at her "You want me to work on the boat with you?"

Ellie nodded. She didn't rush to fill the silence that stretched between us, she didn't bother to sweeten the deal or hunt for some reason I would like working with her. She just let it stand. I looked her in the eyes, trying to figure her out. She goes from being almost non-verbal with me and now she asks me to spend the summer on a boat with her. I wondered if she knew what she was doing at all and if I would be carrying her through this.

I had a feeling that Ellie would become my next bad habit. It's easy to get addicted when everything interests you and nothing satisfies you. "I'm in."

"You won't regret this," Ellie almost jumps up, I swear I could've seen her making calculations in her head "So, I'm thinking we get rid of all this junk and get a good look at it bare bones, make a list of supplies and give her the spa day shes in desperate need of."

On my second day as first mate, I had been scrubbing away inside of the saloon while Ellie did some work on the exterior, my Scrub Daddy was being put to work. By the time I even made a dent in all of the Sharpie poetry, it was nearly falling apart and begging to be killed.

When I emerged from the companionway to replace my filthy bucket of water I spotted Ellie chatting up a girl on a dock. She had long glossy black hair that cascaded down her back in strategic ringlets. "So you're gonna sail on this thing?"

"Rebuilding her first," Ellie tells her, leaning against the railing. The girl she's speaking to looks like she's freezing, denim shorts cropped high and a white tank top.

"Do you need help?" She smiles and even I'm seduced by it. She has tanned skin that she's clearly been working on and sunglasses pushing back the silky hair from her forehead. "I've been on boats, lots of times," Her arms are crossed over her chest. I can see goosebumps all over her legs from the chill brought to us by the gray sky above and the frigid air. 

"That so?" Ellie asks, rising to her full height. A wrench in hand, it looks like the beginning of a really bad movie, not a family-friendly one. She saw me then, standing behind her. I watched her facade drop. Her smile changed as I approached, turning from flirt to friend in two seconds.

"Oh, hey," The black-haired girl regards me like I'm some kind of threat. "So do you need help or what?" 

Ellie looks at me and then back to her "Thanks for the offer but we're all set."

"Do you maybe wanna grab lunch or something?" She completely ignores me.

Ellie shakes her head "We've got lots of work to do, but-" She takes a deliberate pause and I almost cringe "I'll probably be at the shipwreck later. Stop by if you're around."

"See ya'," She grins and takes the sunglasses off the top of her head, placing them on the nose bridge before walking back down the dock.

"Wow," I dump my bucket of water over the rail of the boat "Looks like super difficult work out here, you are so brave." Sarcasm drips from my tone "Without you, who will flirt with all of the hot girls at the marina?"

"No need to be jealous," She says "I'm spending every waking minute with you after all."

I gave her the evil eye but I truly wasn't jealous. I didn't chase the thrill of a fling or late nights with girls whom I would forget by morning. I had dropped that by college and replaced it with ketamine and opioids, I abused liquor like I was its two-faced love. Now the only thing I chased was calmness. 

I wasn't jealous, just briefly reminiscing over how carefree I used to be. 

The tide was rolling and the sky above us was gray and angry as if something was raging within it. "Shit," I mutter, waves shifting from a distant hiss to a closer hush. The air hung heavy, I hadn't even noticed the change in weather from what seemed like the century I spent scrubbing away in the saloon. 

Ellie must've noticed what I was. "So, I'm thinking we should go?"

"You think?" I retort.

Moments later we're packed and rushing down the dock to find her truck. It doesn't take long for rain to begin to splatter on the ground beneath us, it isn't light and gentle, it's harsh. It sounds like pebbles being tossed onto a sheet of glass.

By the time we reach the truck, I'm soaked, hair sticking to my forehead and neck "You didn't want to poke your head into the saloon and say 'Hey, it's looking like there's gonna be a storm'?" 

"I was a little preoccupied," Ellie isn't much better off than I am, she takes off the flannel she had on top of her tank top and tosses it into the backseat, her tattoo out on full display. The rain is so heavy that everything on the outside of her truck looks like a blur. 

"Can you even drive in this?"

"No, can you?"

"No, I told you I have a DUI," The second the words leave my mouth I regret the slip-up. My eyes go wide and a hand slaps over my mouth, I'm acting like I just told her I was the one who took out JFK.

"You didn't tell me that."

"Well," I look forward, ignoring her piercing gaze, "I thought I did."

If not for the rain outside that pounded against the glass as if it wanted to be let in, we would've sat in complete silence while we drowned beneath all of the words going unsaid. My mind begins to wonder, first I think of the black-haired girl at the docks; I hope she didn't get stuck outside in the rain, especially with her lack of clothing. Then I think about what Ellie's thinking, did she know already? Had Joel told her? I'm humiliated all over again like I'd been when the paramedics dragged my half-naked body out of a bathtub.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks. I don't say anything and she takes this as a hint "We don't have to talk about it."

I'm beginning to grow comfortable with the silence. I almost preferred it to the back-and-forth banter Joel and Ellie constantly had, which was more so father and daughter teasing each other.

Joel had probably known more about me than I did, my parents liked to keep him filled in after all. They just loved to keep tabs on me, if it was legal I'm sure they would put cameras behind my retinas and watch my every move. Eight months ago when I was in rehab, that was the most peace I've ever felt. As much as my parents wanted me clean, they held resentment since I ruined my life and was destroying theirs by association. Joel didn't seem like the type to gossip to his daughter but it nagged at me regardless. "Did Joel tell you anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just-like," I search through my brain to find the words "Like what I've been up to?"

She shrugged "He just said you are on a deferral and need a break from the city."

"Okay," I say, my voice so quiet it was almost smothered by the obnoxious rain. 

"Are you hungry?"

We had thrown on two jackets Ellie had in the back seat of the cars. She offered me Joel's black raincoat while she humbly took the bright yellow rain poncho. It took everything in me not to laugh at her, she looked like Georgie.

Ellie slung one arm around me, we were both hunched over as we ran as fast as we could. She was shouting stuff at me but I couldn't hear her through the rain, I just nodded in agreement and hoped she hadn't said something awful.

She tugged me left, the deluge chasing us into Salty's for cover. It was nearly dead in there, two other tables, one was an elderly couple and the other was a group of girls, laughing like hyenas while one of them showed the others a picture on her phone.

Ellie wasted no time in taking off her poncho and I didn't blame her, no one wanted to be seen in that. The second we settled into a booth by the huge glass window which took up the entire storefront, an over-eager waiter came up. He was tall, had dark hair and had handsome features, he must've been bored with how slow it was in here. "Hey, Jesse," Ellie said "Can I have water and a big-buck burger?"

He nodded and swerved his body to look at me, "Alright and for you-" He looked up from his notepad and paused for a moment before a huge smile cracked on his face "I haven't seen you in so long!" 

"Hi," I smiled, my mouth hanging openly awkwardly as I tried to recall him.

"Do you remember me?" He asked, his hand dropping to his side "Jesse," He reminded "We used to go to school together."

I had no idea who he was "Oh my god, yes!" I say "I remember."

His smile grows "God, you look so different."

"You too," I gesture at him "You're way more-" My mind falls flat "Grown."

He nods along to my words "Have you had a chance to look at the menu?"

Wanting this conversation as soon as possible I nod despite not even opening the menu “Yeah, I'll just get the, uh, big-buck and a club soda.” I repeated Ellie's order.

He jots it down onto his notepad "It'll be right up."

"Ellie, I don't know who that is," I say when I see him retreat to the server station to fill in the order. The entire restaurant is nautical-themed, the walls painted black, and there were nets with faux fish covering every square inch of the ceiling.

"Wow, I had no idea," She says, sarcastically "Damn, your memory really is fucked." 

Trust me, I know or at least I think I do. I disregard her comment "Water? Don't you wanna get rootbeer or something? Joel said you drink so much soda that your blood is made of corn syrup."

She grins "Gotta keep up the tough guy act."

Across the restaurant one of the girls waves to Ellie, this one has curly brown hair and a sundress "Hi, Ellie!"

Her eyebrows furrow "Hey there-um...you," Ellie said "Good to see you again."

The girl smiles slyly at Ellie before turning back to her friends. "Looks like I'm not the only one forgetting people, what's your excuse?"

"There's a lot of girls in the world, I can't remember all of their names."

"You must've gone through every girl in the cove, power to ya'," I say "No idea you had such a reputation."

"You don't know a lot about me."

I shrug "You know even less about me."

"I bet I could guess."

"Be my guest."

She leans back like she's carefully considering her next words, choosing them very wisely before she finally settles "You picked a major like communications and got bored quickly, decided you needed to do some soul searching. Probably read 'Eat, Prey, Love,' then went on a backpacking trip, expenses paid by your parents. Alternatively, you lived in a van and pretended to be a broke hippie."

I shook my head "Very cliche and you were only right about one thing."

"What?"

"I got bored quickly," The rain outside was failing to cease. Across from me, it looked like Ellie was calculating my every move. Her auburn hair was still wet, and from her hairline, a droplet of water dribbled down onto her button nose to rest on her cupid bow.

"Can I have a hint then?"

"No."

I see a realisation hit her "You partied with frat guys?"

I shook my head "I've always been too cool for them." I wasn't too cool for them, I was too fucked up to even know they were throwing a party until someone verbally informed me, by that point all I've ever done at a frat party was break in through a window and steal a keg like the disgusting fiend I was. It was nothing to be proud of, my friends thought it was hilarious and posted it on their Snapchat stories, egging me on and feeding into this sickening behaviour. What wasn't funny was how I got caught and winded up with a busted lip and broken rib. With pupils the size of my iris, I couldn't feel the pain I was in.

"Okay, now you have to tell me."

"I can't, I lose my mysterious allure."

The bell above the door chimes signalling the arrival of another customer and said customer makes a b-line for our table. She takes a seat next to Ellie "Jesse texted me that you were here.”

"Dina, were you at work?" Ellie furrows her eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's not like anyone's buying souvenirs right now and Jesse told me you finally came back," She whips her head to look over at me.

I genuinely remembered her, unlike Jesse. She had buried the time capsule with Ellie, her family and I. I also recalled how her older sister used to give us hand-me-down clothes. "Dina, hi."

She has freckles scattered across her face the same way that Ellie does. Her smile was so comforting, I forgot that I was soaked to my bones and shivering. "Well we should all do something together tonight," Dina grins "You're doing Ellie a huge favour by helping her fix that rig, she better give you some good head for it."

I almost choke on my saliva while Ellie just groans with disappointment like she had anticipated Dina saying something along those lines "D, you can't say that stuff around every girl I'm with, this is essentially my sister for the summer."

Dina raises her hands in defence "Sorry, my bad, I was unaware since you failed to mention that you have my old friend living with you." Ellie looks like she's going to say something but Dina speaks up again before she has the chance to "Let me give you my number."

Wordlessly, I hand my phone over to Dina who fills out her contact information and then gives my phone right back to me. I study Dina's face and her mannerisms, hoping that something might bring me back to my childhood which has been wiped away by every upper and downer you could put a name to. Something about her seemed familiar, maybe we had been closer friends than I thought.

I nod along to whatever she and Ellie are saying, chiming in random bits of dialogue but my mind is stuck on the two of them side by side. They're what I could've been if my family never moved us away and I hadn't turned my brain into sludge.

The life I could've had.

 Ellie smoked from what I knew, maybe Dina or Jesse were into something a little more hardcore. Hardcore? If hardcore qualifies as drowning in a concoction of cough syrup, Vicodin, codeine, and Gatorade to balance out the flavour of self-destruction. The bottles I swallowed to sleep, I showed up to almost every lecture high. Here I was handed what was nearly a good life and I tossed it away for something with a sweeter taste than a stable job and proper education.

The horrors I've committed. No good deed will ever outdo the bad that I have unleashed upon this godforsaken earth. From my clouded brain, paralyzing thoughts come to life to curse myself, the nightmare no mother would wish for her child to endure. 

Relapse after relapse, I would fall sick with the thought of how many times I had to relapse until I was finally clean and that bitter flavour washed from my mouth.

"Are you okay?" Dina asks with a smile and furrowed brows "We kind of lost you there."

It's one in the morning and I want to drink wine then slip beneath the rapid waters that will gladly pull me under and claim me as theirs.

Instead, I opt for a class of water. As Dina had said earlier, she wanted to get a bunch of friends together but the second we got home, I showered and locked myself away. Echoes of laughter and chatter drifted through my window.

I slip down the steps that lead to the kitchen. Outside the rain has finally dissipated and Ellie, Dina, Jesse, along with a handful of people I don't know crowd around a bonfire. The kitchen is illuminated only by moonlight, the moon hung over me as I poured myself water from the tap, a dead thing over a dying thing. 

I have seafoam in my veins and centuries-passed sunshine that induces my craving for some pills that will put me to sleep. Three months completely clean and yet that doesn't end the yearning for the drugs that comforted me more than any human ever had. 

The door cracks open and in comes Ellie, she's laughing and from the uncontrollable giggles, drowsy gaze, and slightly disoriented walking I can tell that she's been smoking. "Hey," She smiles at me, reaching passed me to grab a mug with Garfield on the front and fill it with water but she doesn't take a sip, she just sits it down on the counter behind us and stares at me.

Our faces only inches apart, I contemplate her next move. This close I can smell the marijuana on her and I almost want to scuttle upstairs and light a candle. Ellie hugs me, wrapping her arms around my midriff and letting her head find its resting place in the crook of my neck "Are you okay?"

"Mhm" She hums "I'm just glad you're here, whatever the circumstances are, I'm happy that you're helping me with the boat," I'm carrying almost her full way, and she's slouched against me "I love you man, I know you don't remember a lot from when we were kids but we had a lot of fun together."

"Thanks, Ellie," I give her a little pat on the back "That's really nice of you."

She peels herself away from me, using the counter to lean against instead. She looks me up and down, having an intense staring contest with my pyjamas "Do you wanna come out and smoke with everyone?" She's shed her tank top and thrown over a gray hoodie to shroud her from the oncoming cold.

I shake my head, no "I don't mess with that stuff."

"That's smart," She says "Have fun in your room, stowaway, I'll see you tomorrow to work on our boat," With that Ellie leaves without grabbing the Garfield mug she came in here for.

A/N: Hey, y’all. I’m aware I have a million open docs, I assure you they are all getting some love but I needed to come back to my roots and write some angst. These are some issues I have struggled with and I feel that it’s important to bring attention to it so it’s not taboo.

[bumblebugwrites]

chapter 3: oh, children

Pairing: Victor!Treech x fem!Reader

Summary: With the passage of time comes the day of the Reaping, and your involvement in the Games begins to feel more and more real as you prepare your tributes for their probable deaths.

Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Themes, Mention of Injuries, Character Death, Weapons.

Word Count: 7.6k

Taglist: @nekee-lilac02, @mr-panda357

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The morning of the reaping is hot in 10, though any month past March usually is.  You had stayed at home the night before, foregoing sleeping in the bunkhouse for the bed you share with Fawn, and as the first rays of light begin to peak through the blinds, you fight the urge to roll back over. Today is the day.

Pushing the covers off only your side of the bed so as not to disturb the mess of hair and limbs beside you, you allow the soles of your feet to soak up the heat of the floor for a moment before moving to stand. 

There is movement in the kitchen. You can hear it as you approach from down the hall. Though it does not surprise you, your mother is always up early on reaping day, flitting about the house nervously, ironing the same outfits she painstakingly selected the night before. This morning, it is Fawn’s dress, and you watch as she turns it this way and that, passing the iron over each fold and wrinkle with unwavering concentration. When your father was still alive, he would say it was as though she thought her efforts could keep the day away. That if she kept on ironing, the reaping would never come. You knew better. Knew that her shaking hands and furrowed brow were only indicators of love. A love that she pressed into every seam with each careful pass of the iron, like a final plea to the Capitol. Please, you don’t understand; these children are loved by someone. They are loved by me. Why can’t that be enough?

It is Fawn’s first reaping today. The thought has clouded your mind for weeks. And though you reassure yourself that it is nearly impossible that you could both be reaped, there is still a sick feeling pooled in your gut. You attempt to shake it off as you pour yourself a cup of coffee, nabbing a piece of toast from the table. Whether Fawn’s name is pulled or not, you are headed for the Capitol today, and who knows the next time they will remember to feed you. 

As you shuffle over to the table, you note the letter from Teff that had arrived just yesterday, still sitting out from last night. You fold it neatly, placing it back in the envelope before standing to file it away with the others. Two from Trawl, four from Teff, and a single letter from Treech. Your fingers reach out to gently trace his handwriting on the back of the envelope before closing the drawer. You’d already read it enough times to have the damn thing memorized. Besides, you would see him soon enough, back in the Capitol for the Games. The Games. You feel yourself flood with guilt for the indulgence of your line of thinking. Two children will be reaped today. That is what’s important. That is where your attention should be. You shake away all thoughts of Treech, returning to your coffee and toast and observing your mother as she finishes her work on Fawn’s dress.

“It’ll be okay. She won’t be picked,” you assure her over the lip of your mug.

“Like you were okay?” She doesn’t look up as she responds, but there is a cold tinge to her voice, and you feel the sting of her words; the sting of knowing the ghost of your Games still haunts your mother. Before you can respond, there is shuffling from down the hall, and you rise from your seat to grab some of the honey you’d bought from the local bee farm just last week for today’s breakfast. Something sweet to ease the pain. Fawn emerges, her hair stuck out at odd angles with Lennox hot on her heels. At only six, it would be years before your brother’s first reaping, and you help him into your lap, beginning to spread the honey onto a piece of toast just for him. 

“Fawn, when you’re finished eating, go get your brush so I can braid your hair.” Your mother has moved on to pressing Lennox’s shirt as attendance at the reaping is required for all citizens of the Districts no matter their age, and you note your own outfit, hung from a handle on one of the cupboards. A long jean skirt paired with a leather vest and a nice button-up. The vest you recognize from your father’s own wardrobe, though the fit now looked suited to your own shape, and you realize your mother must have made some adjustments so that you might wear it. The skirt surprises you, though you suppose it makes sense. In previous years, your mother had opted for jeans, knowing the chances of your survival in the arena were only increased by the mobility they would provide. But those years were over, and with the Games behind you, there was no chance of your name being drawn. With no tesserae taken out in her name, Fawn would only have one slip in the reaping barrel, and you know your mother is relying on the dress to draw out her youth and innocence should she be selected. There is a strategy to it. To all of it, you think, and though it feels calculated, it is the price of survival.

Fawn scampers off to retrieve her hairbrush after virtually inhaling her toast, and you remove Lennox from your lap, sending him in your mother’s direction to get changed. 

As you comb through the mess of hair before you, you feel the spirit of your mother overtake you, pleating love into each and every fold like a prayer. This child is loved. This child is loved by me. Why can’t that be enough?

A letter had arrived several days ago, notifying you that you were to remain on the stage throughout the reaping. A display of your new role as a mentor. A reminder of your victory. An echo of every child from 10 who had and would succumb to the Games. You approach the steps and spot Calpurnia situated beside an empty seat, the stage teeming with Peacekeepers, and you feel your brow furrow at her presence.

“What are you–” “I’m here to do the reaping,” she says, delivering a curt nod in your direction.

“But the mayor does the reaping,” you respond, thoughts returning to this day just two years ago when his sweaty hand had dipped into the barrel and fished out your name.

“Not anymore. Capitol orders.” As you settle into the seat beside her, you recall an incident from last year in 12, projected onto the screen above the stage. A girl who slipped a snake down the dress of the mayor’s daughter. You nod in understanding before taking the seat beside hers, hands clasped tightly in your lap. You search the crowd for Fawn, stiff in her place among the other twelve-year-old girls. She does not look up, eyes fixed on the ground before her. 

The kids from 12 are reaped first. The girl is older, lean but with muscle you recognize must come from work in the mines. The boy can be no more than thirteen, and you swallow hard at the look of fear plastered across his face, forcing your own gaze downwards. Eight comes next. Then 6 and 11. You note Teff in the corner of the screen as the two tributes from his District are drawn. His features remain tight and unmoving. District 10 goes seventh, as it does every year, and as Calpurnia rises from her place beside you, your jaw locks into place, eyes drilling holes into the sides of the barrels as though looking hard enough might allow you to see the names drawn before they even pass through the opening. As though it might allow you to breathe. Not Fawn. Please, not Fawn.

“Ladies first,” Calpurnia states, and there is little showmanship to the affair as she wastes no time plucking a carefully folded parcel from the barrel to her left. 

“Bee Shepley.” The name rings out across the square, and your relief at not hearing Fawn’s name is short-lived as you watch the section of fourteen-year-old girls begin to shuffle. It is not hard to pick her out, a skinny little thing with a face full of freckles. Her mouth moves as though rigged to do so, opening and closing without any sound coming out. Around her, girls begin to shy away, leaving a cold, empty space with Bee at its center. From within the surrounding crowd, there is a horrible, shuddering cry, followed closely by the babble of what you can only assume to be a toddler. With a push from the girl beside her, Bee advances towards the stage. 

She is crying, you note, as she makes the slow journey to the stairs, but before she can take the first step, she presses two firm hands against her face, wiping the tears from her eyes. By the time she takes her place, the fear on her visage begins to meld with determination, a steely look passing over her features. 

“Now for the boys.” Calpurnia moves to snag a second paper, though there is something different in her tone, which for the first time sounds strained and watery. You realize with a start that this woman has probably never before seen the districts, and now here she is, damning two of 10’s children with their own probable deaths.

“Colt Harrier.” You know Colt. He had been a few years behind you in school and looks to be about seventeen as he moves from his place among the boys. Your fathers had worked out on the ranch together, and for a while, you’d worked side by side in the slaughterhouse after leaving school at around fourteen. He was only twelve then. He is bigger than you remember, no longer so boyish. With dark hair and piercing eyes, he towers over Bee as he takes his place beside her. Still, his face betrays nothing, and had you not recognized his sister among the cluster of fifteen-year-old girls, you might have thought his gaze was simply trained ahead, unfeeling. 

What comes next hits you like a bag of bricks. Four Peacekeepers emerge to collect the tributes, and a look from Calpurnia indicates to you that it is time to depart. No goodbyes. No final moments. They might as well be branded: property of the Capitol from this day forward. You enter the arched doors of City Hall, and they slam heavy and unmoving behind you. It is all so fast. No.

“No.” Calpurnia startles beside you at the sudden outburst, but you pay her irritation no mind. “No. They should get to say goodbye.”

Ahead of you, the Peacekeepers continue to guide your tributes toward the exit that will lead the group of you to the train station. You do not care, planting your feet in refusal.

“That is not in the instructions–” Calpurnia begins, but you stop her soon after.

“Instructions? They might never see their families again. They should be allowed to say goodbye.”

“It’s just never been that way,” she chides, moving her arms as though trying to usher you forward. Down the hall, the Peacekeepers begin to slow, having noted your absence.

“Well, this year is different. It’s already different. There are mentors and escorts, and they should be allowed time with their families. Ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking. Calpurnia, you’re the only one who can–” 

“We are going to be late.” And her tone is sharp, but her eyes dart towards the ground, and you can feel her caving to your request.

“Well, they’re not gonna leave without us.”

“I– Will you stop this nonsense if I ask?” You nod solemnly, and she sighs, leaving you momentarily to speak to one of the four men. There is a back and forth, and he seems displeased, but eventually, he begins to guide Colt in a different direction, another Peacekeeper following suit with Bee, while the remaining two make towards the stage you have only just left.

“Five minutes,” Calpurnia hisses as she returns to your side, “It’s all they would agree to.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, alarmed by the heavy sincerity of your own words, and you see it, in that moment, something soften deep within her eyes. She nods before spinning around to face the other direction, her heels punctuating each step with a sharp click.

“Well, come on then. We’ll meet them on the train.”

It is twenty minutes later when the doors to the train open, and Colt and Bee stumble inside. Lighter than her District partner, Bee takes the impact of the Peacekeeper’s shove worse than Colt, skidding onto her hands and knees before looking up to eye the table where you sit beside Calpurnia. You are on your feet in an instant, moving to help her up, but Colt bars your way with a glare, dipping to lend her a hand. Your heart sinks deeper into your chest. 

“Right, if you could both take a seat, we have lots to go over,” Calpurnia states, sorting through the array of files spread across the table before her, and Bee takes a hesitant step forward. Colt does not move.

“What is she doing here?” He is looking at you.

“I am your mentor for the Games,” you explain, resisting the urge to shrink beneath the look he gives you.

“So you work for the Capitol then?”

“I suppose technically I do,” you answer, and even Bee’s eyes trace over you, guarded by a layer of skepticism. “But I’m here to help you. We both are.”

“Okay, we really don’t have time for this. We have a schedule to go over, people,” Calpurnia huffs, making an ushering movement with her hand to urge both tributes to take a seat. Bee slides into the seat beside yours, and after several seconds of silence, Colt follows her lead.

“Alright, so, upon arrival in the Capitol, we will meet with the team of stylists for District 10 who will get you fitted for tonight’s tribute parade as a part of the Opening Ceremonies–”

“Parade?” Colt’s brow furrows, and a mixture of confusion and anger begin to darken his face.

“The parade will take us to the newly built Training Center, where you will be staying until the Games commence. Tomorrow, after being allowed a day to determine your own strengths, you will be assessed on your skills, and we will close out the night with individual interviews. Are there any questions?” Calpurnia finishes, looking up.

“One day that’s not enough ti–” Colt begins.

“What do you mean interviews?” Bee asks quietly from beside him.

“Why are we doing all this shit anyways? If they want us dead so badly, just put us in the fucking arena; why waste the energy?” Colt demands, his steely gaze fixed on you.

“Because this year is different. The Games are changing. Now, why is none of my business, and frankly, I don’t know if I could answer that question myself.” A small lie never hurt anyone. “But what we do know is how. All this ceremonial bullshit–” Calpurnia shoots you a look of warning, and you clear your throat.

“--Stuff is so that the Capitol can get to know you. Starting last year, a system was put into place, one that allowed Capitol citizens to sponsor their favorite tributes so that their mentors could send them gifts in the arena: food and water. Things you need for survival. We know that the arena is different this year, which means that these gifts could be more important than ever in helping you survive.”

“So putting us in the Hunger Games wasn’t entertainment enough for them? Now, we’re supposed to make them like us before they send us off to die? Fuck that, I’m not doing it.”

“This is not a matter of choice. You will participate,” Calpurnia cuts in.

“Or what? You gonna kill me again?”

“Not you. But your sister, maybe. Your mother. The Capitol does not take kindly to refusal. Trust me,” you speak, your voice harsh like it’s never been before, and your thoughts travel to Hector. Hector who is dead for his defiance. Colt crosses his arms, sinking back into his seat and you feel yourself nearly jolt in surprise at the sound of Bee’s voice.

“What do we have to do?”

Arrival in the Capitol is certainly not a calm affair. The moment the train stops, the four of you find yourselves being ushered into a car that takes you to a building just off the City Circle. While Calpurnia wrangles Colt and Bee, guiding the two down the hall straight ahead, several Peacekeepers meet you at the entrance, taking you in a different direction, presumably to meet up with the other mentors. 

To meet up with Treech. No. You shake the thought from your head, urging your brain to remain focused. You don’t have time to think about him. Not now, not ever. 

It is not long before the two men leading the way stop outside an ornate wooden door, one stepping forward to tap a key card to the pad on the wall before opening the door.

You seem to be the last to arrive, likely on account of your request that Colt and Bee be given a moment to speak with their families, and your eyes flit across the room, decorated with a large couch, a television, and an open bar. Trawl is the first to spot you, a boisterous greeting bursting forth from his lips as he rises from his spot at the bar to wrap you in an embrace, Teff only a few feet behind. The handshake he extends to you bears a more solemn tone, but his eyes dance with the familiar light of the friendship you have come to know from his letters.

“How are you?” He leans in to whisper, concern evident in his tone.

“I’ve been better.” You shrug, attempting to plaster an easy smile across your face, and he nods in return, traces of sympathy in his eyes. Turning, you cast a wave over your shoulder at the victors from 1 and 2 who populate the couch, and from his place beside Antonia, Octavian gives you a nod. You spin back around, expecting to encounter Teff once more, only to find he has been replaced.

“No hat today?” Treech.

“No, hello? It’s nice to see you?” You joke, and your eyes rake up and down his figure, taking him in for the first time in months. He looks nice, still in the outfit you assume he wore to the reaping. It is similar, you note, to the one he wore in his Games, and you decide it must be considered the fashion back in 7. “Besides, I see you’ve got one on for me.”

He reaches up to grasp at the brim, tipping it in your direction, and you feel your features split open into a smile, nearly forgetting the reason you are here. Nearly. Your grin fades at the recollection, and you suddenly remember another thing.

“You never answered my last letter.” It isn’t a question. Not really. There is no explanation demanded of him, but you fail to disguise the disappointment in your words, and his face seems to fall as well.

“I–” he begins, but then seems to think better of what he was going to say, instead clearing his throat before continuing. “I must have forgotten.”

“Hm.” You nod before skirting around him to rejoin Trawl and Teff at the bar.

“Trouble in paradise?” Trawl teases, raising his drink to his lips to take a sip while his eyebrows lift suggestively, head tilted in Treech’s direction. The boy from 7 stays standing where you left him for a moment, gaze still trained on you before opting to take a seat beside Beau on the couch.

“Are you fucking serious?” Trawl’s mouth opens once more as though he intends to quip back but quickly shuts upon further consideration. After several moments of silence, he speaks again, caution evident in his tone.

“Yes?” You only glare in his direction, further discouraged by the soft snort from Teff. 

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you both seem so resistant to the fact that you clearly wanna fuck each other,” Trawl shrugs, and you feel your mouth fall open in shock.

“Are you ill?” You demand, reaching out to press the back of your hand to his forehead. He only swats it away.

“Am I saying something untrue?” He asks, looking to Teff for help.

“Ill-timed, insensitive, inflammatory, could probably get us all killed for encouraging collusion or friendly mingling among the Districts, you know, given that the Capitol wants us to hate each other–” Teff begins, marking each new point by lifting a finger.

“Thank you, Teff,” you cut in, breathing a sigh of relief, and beside you, Trawl’s smirk begins to form a pout.

“I wasn’t finished. All those things are true, of course, but he’s still not wrong–” Your look of thanks turns to a glare, and from beside you, Trawl lets out an excited yelp, causing the people on the couch to look in your direction. 

“Yes!” You are sure to reward him with a swift elbow to the stomach before turning to mouth an apology at a rather annoyed-looking Lux.

“And if we can see it, I promise you they can too,” Teff continues, pointing to the emblem of the Capitol decorating the mirror behind the bar shelves. Trawl’s look of victory quickly disappears.

“No! That’s not– You’re supposed to be backing me up here–” he whines, but you only sigh, allowing yourself a glance in Treech’s direction. When your eyes reach his face, you find him looking right back.

“He’s right, Trawl. It’s too dangerous. Even if it is true.”

The Opening Ceremony goes about as well as you could have hoped. Both Colt and Bee appear to be dressed as cowboys of some sort, and you make a mental note to thank Tigris for what you assume to be her intervention, guaranteeing your tributes are not costumed as unidentifiable roadkill. Bee even manages a small smile, coached by Calpurnia, no doubt. Still, you feel yourself fill with gratitude at the sight, knowing it might just be enough to charm at least a single sponsor. 

Each set of tributes stands on a chariot, and as the procession makes a particularly wide turn, you note the chains keeping their ankles bound to the mode of transport. Your shoulders sink at the sight of them. 

The parade continues throughout the city, each block lined with Capitol citizens, and it soon becomes clear that it has no intention of returning to City Circle, where you remain with the other mentors. Instead, it pulls to a stop before a grand hotel you quickly recognize from your last stay in the ‘Gem of Panem.’ It is not long after that a group of Peacekeepers enters the room, escorting the lot of you to an awaiting vehicle, likely headed in the same direction. 

You expect to stay with your tributes, so a jolt of surprise runs down your spine as you are all led to the same suite as last time, with the assurance that you will be given the privilege of visiting them in the morning. The place remains virtually untouched, aside from a single wooden box set plainly at the center of the coffee table beside the couch. Trawl is the first to approach it. As he lifts the lid, you catch sight of ten slim cases, and he dips his hand inside, pulling out the first one. 

As he cracks the case open, you spy an almost iridescent disk with a hole directly through its center.

“What is it?” You ask, noting that most of the other victors seem to bear the same look of confusion.

“It’s a DVD,” Lux supplies suddenly, a look of excitement on her face. “We used to have them back in 1 when I was a kid, before– Well, you know. They play things on the television.” 

She moves quickly to stand beside Trawl, taking the case from his hands before turning to observe the television at the front of the room. After a couple of minutes of fumbling with the remote and a slim black box below the display, the screen springs to life. And suddenly, your heart feels as though it is free-falling through your chest. 

The footage is distant, clearly that of an old security camera blurred with age, but you recognize it immediately. The arena. The slow pan across twenty-one individual tributes. It is a feed of the very first Hunger Games.

Your eyes flit to the remaining nine cases in the box and you feel as around you, the other victors seem to come to the same conclusion. Octavian remains frozen, eyes glued to the television. He looks as though he might be sick. 

“Turn it off,” Antonia urges from her place beside him, and Lux returns once more to fumbling with the remote. On the screen, the countdown begins. “Turn it off!”

The screen goes black, but your mind is racing. Who else has access to these DVDs? Who else has seen them? You had known during your Games that the Capitol insisted on streaming them to the Districts. To send a message. But here they were again, immortalized on a flimsy piece of plastic, readily available for consumption, seemingly for no reason at all.

“Why–” Beau begins, voicing the same question lurking just behind your lips.

“To study,” Treech answers, taking a hard swallow before beginning again. “To help us strategize and find weaknesses to extort.” He looks tired as you study his features, shoulders slumped and head bent towards the floor. Your own mind swirls with memories, consuming you in horrible waves of terror. Beside you, Teff is shaking, with rage or fear you can not tell.

“They can count down in that arena all they like, but these disks mean the Games have already begun.”

Your room feels empty without Treech’s mattress populating a part of the floor, but you do not invite him to stay. Nor does he ask, trekking down the hall, following the discovery of the box before slamming his door behind him. You sigh, readying yourself for bed before descending into a restless sleep.

To say you do not often have nightmares would be an outright lie, but tonight’s is worse than any you have experienced in a long time. You are back in the arena, the count ticking down from ten, but the boy from 5 is no longer beside you, as he had been in your own Games. Instead, Trawl looks back, eyes pooling with a fierce hatred. Your head swivels, taking in the other tributes, and you note that no more than ten people surround the cornucopia. To your other side, Beau bears his teeth, an animalistic hiss emitting from deep within his chest. Your eyes scan the arena with desperation, and without really knowing why, you are looking for him. Searching for Treech.

He is several places away, eyes narrowed in concentration, and you spy the axe on which his gaze is fixed, determination weighing down his every feature. The countdown hits three, and without meaning to, you stoop to run. Only then it is at one, and you are stuck, frozen in place, watching, stiff with fear as the Games begin. Antonia is the first to go, eyes glinting with betrayal as Octavian spears her through the chest. Then Teff, struck by Trawl’s trident. Your eyes move to Treech, and he is already looking at you, taking slow steps in your direction, axe at the ready. He is three feet away now. Two. One. Your noses are so close that it feels almost like intimacy, but his gaze is hard and resentful. He lifts his axe to kill you, and you find the movement to sink back, away from its blade. An arrow pierces his chest, sudden and sharp. He looks almost surprised. He looks like a boy. He looks like he hates you, and you are not sure which is worse: that he is dying or that he wants you dead.

He begins to sink to his knees, but his hand darts out to grasp your arm, pulling you forward into the blade of his axe. And you are screaming. Choking on your own blood but unable to stop yourself from falling further forward into the pain. Into him. 

There is a hand on your arm, and someone is shaking you awake. Your eyes peel open, and you fly into an open embrace. It smells like cedar. He smells like cedar, whispering words you know are meant to soothe, but the panic rises like bile in your throat at the sight of the boy who, only moments before, had looked at you as though you were nothing. Scum. You pull back, hands stretched out before you in defense, nearly tumbling off the other side of the bed. Treech reaches out to steady you but thinks better of it as you cower further into the duvet.

“I won’t touch you. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but you have to breathe.”

He is right; the choked gasps for air are doing you no good, so you steady your eyes on him as he takes a deep breath, hand rising and falling with the action as though he is instructing you. You do the same, and as your gaze bores into his, you note no hatred within the look he gives you. Only concern and care. The emotions split his face open in a way you have only seen once before: that first night with his smile. You inch closer.

“You were screaming,” he says, huffing the words out like a breath. “I thought something was wrong– I thought–” 

“I’m okay. I’m okay now,” you reassure, noting the familiarity of your situation. “You can go now if you want to.” 

And you look away, not wanting to watch him leave.

“Do you want me to?” Your eyes dart up, meeting his gaze, vulnerability plastered plain and simple across your visage. You pause, considering his question. Considering the fear you had felt only moments ago as the same curly hair and soft eyes had attempted to end your life. Only that was not him. No. This boy is looking at you as though you are something to be protected, something worth saving.

“No.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want, if–” he assures you.

“No.” You shake your head, moving over to allow him room, and he slides into the bed beside you.

“Could you–” you begin to ask almost absently, the way you would of Fawn.

“Of course.” And he reaches a gentle hand out to trace simple patterns into the fabric of your shirt, just as you had done for him. After a while, you turn to face him. Treech’s gaze searches your face intently. 

“You never answered my letter. You wrote me first, and then you just–”

“Don’t do this,” he asks, but it’s more like begging.

“I wanna know why. Tell me why,” you reply evenly, and a piece of hair falls into your face with a slight movement of your head. Treech reaches out automatically, brushing it behind your ear.

“You know why.”

“No, I–” “I heard your conversation with Teff and Trawl. You know why.” And the embarrassment of his admission has your cheeks feeling hot. Until you make a second connection.

“You also–”

“Stop.” You do. But you do not turn away, instead pressing in. Closer. He pauses for a moment before wrapping you in his arms, his voice merely a whisper against your forehead.

“Just for tonight.”

You are up early the next morning, though this time Treech is already awake, features hardened in comparison with last night, but his arms still locked around you in a tight embrace.

“I have to–”

“Go,” he answers, unraveling himself from you, and you stand, ushering him out the door so you can prepare to meet with your tributes for the first time since yesterday.

A Peacekeeper lets you into their suite after you make the journey down to the tenth floor, and when you enter, you see Calpurnia, already present, a spread of papers before her. There is food in the kitchen spread across the counter and a fresh pot of coffee, which you gladly indulge in before joining her on the couch. It is then that you see it. The small wooden box beside the television. You note with relief that it appears untouched and sip your coffee while waiting for the clock to strike 7:00 am, at which point you rise to knock on each of your two tributes’ doors. They exit not long after, picking at the food on the counter before settling onto the couch to hear you speak.

“Today, you will be taken to a training center to hone any skills you might have before being assessed tonight. Now, you may think the most important part of today is preparing yourself for combat, but I want you both to look at it as an opportunity to make allies.” Colt huffs from his place on the couch, and you attempt to level with him.

“Allies will be important–” you begin once more, but he cuts you off.

“We don’t need allies.” There is a finality to his tone, and you sense that this battle will not be an easy one.

“Well, then, you’re being arrogant,” you respond. The truth is harsh, but it is the truth. “Now you’ve got each other, and that’s a good start, but if you manage to align yourselves with another District–”

“Why should we listen to anything you have to say?” He cuts you off again, and this time, the disrespect in his voice is blatant. You look to Calpurnia, but her brow is furrowed in equal confusion at the sentiment.

“I– I’ve done this before. And survived, which is more than most people can say,” you tell him, doing your best to keep your voice from shaking.

“Yeah, barely. And if we’re being honest, it was probably just luck.”

“What?” You really aren’t sure what else to say. Where is this coming from?

“We watched your Games last night. Parts of it,” Bee speaks up for the first time from her place beside Colt.

Ah.

“My Game–”

“We need to get ready. For the Training Center, but we’ll see you there,” Colt states, standing from his place on the couch before stalking off to his room. Bee only gives you an empathetic nod but follows all the same. You remain stood in place until Calpurnia’s voice manages to pull you from your thoughts.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

“It’s official. My tributes hate me,” you mutter to Teff, who stands to your left. You are arranged in order of District, stood against the back wall of the Training Center as Coriolanus Snow delivers several opening remarks to the twenty-four tributes. Something about using the equipment and their time to the fullest. You do not listen. Instead, your thoughts swirl with concern. If you can not make your tributes trust you now, they never will. And in the Games, trust is everything. Colt’s face haunts your every breath. The frustration in his eyes. The words he so clearly longs to say. You’re pathetic. You’re not cut out for this. You will never be good enough to bring me home.

You are too distracted to hear Teff’s response. Too distracted to notice Treech’s eyes on you. And definitely too distracted to hear Snow the first time he speaks in your direction.

“So, any volunteers?”

“What’s happening?” You whisper to Treech, who fixes his gaze ahead. 

“Demonstration. He wants two of us to spar, to give the tributes an idea of how they should be training.” You swallow hard, mentally kicking yourself for not being more suspicious when Calpurnia provided you with training clothes as well this morning. Still, you say nothing.

“No one? Alright then, let’s just have our two most recent victors.” He smiles in your direction, and his blue eyes light up with a warning. The two most recent victors means you. You and–

Treech steps forward, making his way towards the wall of weapons without much hesitation, and his face, which only moments ago held concern for you, has morphed into something different. Something you recognize from the glimpses you had seen of his Games. It is as though he is playing a character. You follow his lead. 

You are not surprised at his decision to take the axe and you take your time in considering the possibilities offered by the wall. Your eye catches on a small knife hung beside a bundle of rope, and you take the rope first, unraveling it before tying a single quick knot and snagging the knife on your way toward the mat. 

Treech stands on the opposite end, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

“You will go until one of you taps out,” Snow calls from off to the side, and you adjust your shoulders, loosening your frame. Across the makeshift ring, Treech speaks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.” 

It’s a bit like a slap in the face, and though there is a lightness to his voice, a teasing edge, you sense that there’s some truth in it. You’re pathetic. You’re not cut out for this. You will never be good enough to bring me home. You can feel Colt’s gaze hot on the back of your neck. You need this win. 

Treech blinks back at you, unmoving, before taking a step forward. He is confident. Too confident.

You toss the lasso in a loose arc across the ring. It lands just before Treech’s feet and he gives a quiet huff of laughter, eyes glinting at the prospect of an easy win.

“You missed,” he says, his face splitting open into a sly sort of smirk. One, you could imagine him donning in the arena before cleaving his axe clean through your skull. You only shrug, posture loose and unbothered. He steps forward as though baiting you, placing his foot inside the open loop of your lasso.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” he teases once more. And this time, you can’t fight it, the laughter that bubbles from your lips at his ego, the way it blinds him entirely. Then, you pull. Hard. 

The panic in his eyes is evident as he hits the ground with a thud, and you give another good yank, dragging his body closer within reach before lunging forward to pin him with your knee and bringing your knife to his throat. You pause for a moment, allowing yourself to soak in his surprise, before leaning forward to press your lips to his ear, speaking in a whisper meant for no one else. 

“Just because I didn’t go out of my way to kill anyone in my Games doesn’t mean I wasn’t capable. Remember that next time you’re thinking of going easy on me.” Treech gives the mat a series of three taps, and you pull back, releasing your grip on him before moving to stand.

His brow is furrowed as you lend him a hand, and you sense that you’ve revealed too much with your words, the insecurity you’d been battling to keep hidden gushing out in a moment of weakness. He says nothing. Only shakes your hand with a nod before moving off the mat. 

You turn to face the tributes, but your eye goes directly to Colt, his eyebrow still raised in a look of surprise. Beside him, Bee allows the beginnings of a smirk to grace her features. You will win them over, you think. You don’t have a choice.

Assessments go off without a hitch, and though Bee scores relatively low with a six, Colt manages to pull a nine, leaving you feeling a bit better about their initial odds. Several tributes stand out, including those from 1 and 2 and a boy from 8. There is also Trawl’s girl, Mags, who receives a ten, and you make a note to keep an eye out for her. With interviews on the horizon, you find yourself tucked away in the corner of Bee’s dressing room, doling out several last-minute pieces of advice, confident Calpurnia will have a much easier time convincing Colt to listen to her than you might. With Tigris and her team gone, it is just the two of you, and in her absence, you advance to fret a bit over Bee’s hair, tucking several pieces behind her ears and adding pins here and there.

Your thoughts travel briefly to Fawn, but you shake the connection, aware of the fact that it will only serve to weigh you down.

“And just remember to smile, and–”

“He doesn’t hate you, you know. He’s just worried, I think,” Bee says suddenly, eyes searching yours through your reflection in the mirror.

“But he doesn’t hate you. Calpurnia told us what you did, letting us see our families. He’s grateful; I know he is. And he remembers you. From when you were young together, he says. I know he’s mean sometimes, but promise me you’ll still help him?”

“Bee, I–”

“We both know he has a better chance and when I’m gone, you can’t just leave him to die. Please, promise me.” She is so young, you think. Sitting here, begging you to save Colt’s life. You crouch before her, grasping both of her hands in yours. 

“I know Colt is not evil. He’s just a kid. And I am going to do everything in my power to protect you. Both of you. I promise,” you nod at her, and she gives you a nod in turn. 

“Will you braid my hair? Before the Games tomorrow? I don’t want it to get in my face, and I never learned how.”

“Of course,” you say, but you look away, no longer able to conceal the tears in your eyes and wishing more than anything you could change the world. If only so that this little girl might go home.

It is nearly midnight when you arrive back at the hotel, and you decide to stay with your tributes for the night, sneaking up to your room for a blanket and pillow before returning downstairs. At 2:00 am, you have yet to go to sleep, working on some final paperwork assigned by the Capitol, when down the hall, you hear a creek. From the shadows, Colt emerges.

“Late night?” He asks, and for once, there is no malice in his tone.

“Just finishing a few things. You?” You reply, looking up to take him in. 

“Can’t sleep.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” he huffs, and the guard is back up, but you will not allow this opportunity pass you by.

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust me. You think I’m a traitor. A sellout. That I have nothing to teach you. So, let’s start over,” you offer, and he gives you a long look, expression hard, before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

“I am here as a job, yes. But not one I chose to do. It isn’t exactly a coincidence that the only victors who aren’t here are dead. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna do my best to get you through those Games.” Colt looks down at this, and you sense his guilt before you see it written across his face. Still, you continue.

“I didn’t win by slaughtering my opponents because I knew I couldn’t do it. Physically, I was capable. I knew all the right tendons to cut, all the places that hurt the most. You don’t learn nothing working in a slaughterhouse. But I knew, when it came down to it, that I couldn’t do that to another person for the sake of my own survival. So I outlived. I hid, and I survived. After 12 and 11 were gone, I knew that most of the other tributes had probably never gone for as long without food or water as I had before, so I waited. And eventually, the kids from 1 and 2, they hunted the rest of the tributes down. They were so hungry and dehydrated, I don’t think they could’ve remembered me if they’d tried. And then they started killing each other until there was only him. The boy from 2. Orion. The girl from 1 got him pretty good. And he was just laying there heaving and dying. Suffering. So I came out, and I could see it in his eyes. He thought he’d won. That it was over. I remember he just closed his eyes and nodded. He didn’t have to ask; I knew what he– Anyways, there is more than one way to win the Games. And if you will let me, I’d like to help you try.” 

By the end of the story, you are shaking, fighting hard to keep from crying. Colt’s expression reveals nothing, and you begin to sink in on yourself, certain that it's over. That you’ve lost him forever. 

And then he nods.

“I believe you. I believe in you,” he says, standing from his place across the couch. You breathe a sigh of relief, the weight on your chest lighter than it has been in days, only to return the moment he reaches the hallway, spinning back around to face you one final time.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

[seneon]

What do your moots remind you of?

wait wait this gonna be a long ass list. all under the cut. interesting question tho anon 😵‍💫

@tojiluv ⌇ ory

the smell of office documents and coffee. you radiate a comforting vibe but at the same time you have like 7261616377271 works for complete so you escape to cafés.

@amourlyns ⌇ ven

sports cars speeding through the night. maybe it's the previous batman theme, but you really remind me of those soothing late night drives through cities.

@itonashi ⌇ shina

bone china mug and any type of tea. i can picture you sitting and drinking tea from the bone china mug and humming to yourself saying "mm yes yes... tea."

@syomi ⌇ syo

wine red stilettos and a jazz bar. you remind me of an elegant woman in an old jazz bar just fancying her night through with a drooling group of men who tries to get your attention.

@anqelically ⌇ angel

japanese cherry blossoms and spring mostly. you're like a pretty sakura. you LOOK like a pretty sakura. you are a pretty sakura. so cute right. ily angel ur really an angel 🩷

@yuquinzel / @luvmequmi ⌇ hana

flowers! definitely a white tulip or a camellia. you're so sweet and you treasure + honour your friends more than yourself. so, you deserve a flower or two occasionally as achievement.

@noomon ⌇ noo

raincoats and gumboots. noo you're like a soul that always goes out after the rain stops just to jump in puddles. or or, you'd go out in the rain just to dance in it.

@caelivir ⌇ kory

a stoic apothecary. idk you remind me of someone who'd be so obsessed with testing poisons and finding a cure/medicine to everything. all done in pure stoicism.

@saewako ⌇ winter

snowy trails and misty fogs. you highly remind me of a tired village girl escaping from home and now she walks through the snow and mist with sore, red feet. heha.

@milyz ⌇ mila

clouds and a farm. you're not working on the farm though. you're a visitor of the farm and you'd sit by the balcony of the inn just to stare into the clouds. bonus if you're drawing.

@hyoismbbg ⌇ vy

konapun toys. especially the popin' cookin' ones. or a japanese drugstore. you're definitely someone who likes to buy bags of stuff from cheap drugstores.

@httpshujii ⌇ ray

red lipstick and leather jackets. add in some knee-length boots and you'll rock the look. to put simply, you remind me of a sweet, kind, and cool rockstar girlfriend.

@okkalo ⌇ kalo

bubblegum and cotton candies! you actually remind me of very sugary treats that either melts in your mouth or will have an enjoyable time chewing.

@saelestia ⌇ rain

vivienne westwood's gunmetal orb heart lighter. fancy and classy, that's the vibe that you give off. i chose a lighter because there's also a fierce and fiery side of you.

@kyoghurts ⌇ kenji

i've said this before, and it's the smell of a bakery. like the scent of a very sweet dessert. red velvet cakes, soufflé, grape-flavoured cheese tarts.

@rninies ⌇ kylin

yves saint laurent's opyum sandles. no because honestly my first thought after like checking your blog out, it reminded me of those ysl heels. and honestly? you'd look good in it.

@iluvies ⌇ luvie

white butterfly koi fishes. they're so majestic and beautiful and they honestly remind me of you, someone's who's so kind and beautiful like a butterfly koi. you're very gentle too!

@todorokies ⌇ knives

would it be funny if i said actual knives? okay maybe not... but daggers or swords. the ones which are freshly forged and ready for battle. you're like a honourable warrior. so kewl.

@steleir ⌇ vegas

penthouse night parties. along with some cool fruit punches, party music, a pool, disco lights, vice versa. all the cool fun stuff during the night because you're a cool and fun person!!

@omitea ⌇ sinnie

green tea and zen gardens. you remind me of a japanese girl who sits by the engawa (wood corridor) of an old japanese-style house's garden, relaxing with nature.

@wishmemel ⌇ safi

pearls. simply... pearls. because you're a really elegant person and all you remind me of is fancy and naturally expensive pearls. you're like a gem, an unobtainable one.

@noirflms ⌇ zen

laces and ruffle skirts. cute, coquette, soft. those are the elements that heavily reminds me of you. maybe even some strawberry shortcake and strawberry milk.

@saturvue ⌇ nyyra

gold jewelry. very specifically gold bangles. those really detailed ones worn by southern asian princesses. your name kind of sounds like a goddess' name too.

@kaiser1ns ⌇ kiki

love letters. those sweet, corny, and super romantic ones. oh and one of the letters which is from a secret admirer definitely talks about being crazy in love with you...

ok that's all. i think i missed a few people but these are all i got LOLOLOL i love all my moots and friends and sennies and senation

[bradshawsbaby]

Fall & Halloween With The Bradshaws

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: Happy Early Halloween! These are just some headcanons I wanted to put together about how the Bradshaw family celebrates the season!

Warnings: Nothing but warm family fluff.

- Fall is always a big time of year in yours and Bradley’s household. It’s your favorite season, as evidenced by the way you decorate the house from top to bottom and cram as many fall-themed activities into your family’s schedule as possible during the months of September, October, and November.

- Though the temperature in San Diego rarely dips below 60 degrees during the autumn months, that doesn’t stop you from lighting as many pumpkin and apple scented candles as humanly possible, and snuggling up under cozy throw blankets with fuzzy socks and warm mugs of hot apple cider in hand. Bradley often teases you that San Diego could be experiencing a heat wave, but you’d still stick to your thick scarves and cable knit sweaters if the calendar says it’s fall.

- From the time you were dating, going apple and pumpkin picking and visiting as many fall festivals as you can find within a fifty-mile radius have been major traditions for you and Bradley. He loves how happy just the sight of a haystack or a pumpkin patch can make you.

- Once the kids come along, trips to local orchards and farms become all-day family affairs. Goose, Lydia, and James love running around, trying to see which one of them can collect the most apples, and choosing the best looking pumpkins to take home and carve. The kettle corn, pumpkin donuts, and other sweet treats you allow them to indulge in don’t hurt either.

- Speaking of sweet treats, baking in your house gets taken to a whole new level during the fall. While you love baking all year long, your recipe book for autumnal treats in particular is thick and extensive. Some of your family’s favorites include your cinnamon crinkle cookies (Bradley loves them with extra cinnamon), warm apple crisps, pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, chocolate pecan pie, pumpkin tarts, and homemade apple cider.

- On the weekends, or whenever the kids are home from school, they love being able to help you in the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients and blending them all together with your gentle guidance. It usually means a much larger mess in the kitchen, but it’s a price you’re gladly willing to pay to see how much joy it brings them.

- Bradley often tells you that one of his favorite sights is when he comes home from work to find you and the kids in the kitchen, laughing and singing and covered in flour from head to toe. “It reminds me that I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he whispers to you, his kiss letting you know just how much he means it.

- Each fall, you and Bradley make it a priority to take the kids for a visit to his hometown in Virginia, where they get to spend time with Bradley’s family and where you get to visit Goose’s and Carole’s graves as a family. The weather is always so beautiful in Virginia at that time of year, and you know how much it means to Bradley to get to visit and spend time with his parents in such a peaceful place.

- Halloween movie nights are something that you and Bradley have been doing since the very beginning of your relationship, and it’s something you continue with your children. You were never a big fan of horror movies, so you usually stick to the more wholesome, family-friendly classics. Halloween isn’t allowed to come and go without you all having watched Hocus Pocus, Halloweentown, Casper, Double, Double Toil and Trouble, Scooby Doo! and the Witch’s Ghost, Under Wraps, and other beloved movies from yours and Bradley’s childhoods.

- When it comes to Halloween costumes, you and Bradley always dress up together. Some of your favorite couple’s costumes have included Rick and Evy from The Mummy, Squints and Wendy from The Sandlot, and Kenickie and Rizzo from Grease. Before the kids were born, the two of you would usually attend Halloween parties at The Hard Deck, where you once even won for Most Creative Couple’s Costume.

- Dressing up for Halloween becomes even more fun once Goose, Lydia, and James are born. You put a great deal of time and effort into picking out the perfect costumes for them when they’re babies, even making some of their costumes yourself.

- Each one of your children dresses up as a little rooster for their first Halloween in honor of Daddy’s call sign, sharing the same costume among the three of them with minor tweaks for sizing purposes. They’ve also each had a year where they dressed up in a tiny flight suit and baby Aviators, which Bradley always finds hilarious. You have plenty of photos of him holding each of your children, the two of them clad in matching flight suits.

- As the kids start to get a little bit older, you’re able to plan some fun family costumes to wear together. Some of your favorites over the years have included The Addams Family (before James was born, so you and Bradley were Morticia and Gomez, and Goose and Lydia were Pugsley and Wednesday), 101 Dalmatians (you and Bradley were Perdita and Pongo, and the kids dressed up as the puppies), and The Incredibles.

- Once all the Dagger Squad members start having families of their own, Halloween becomes a major spectacle. All of you get together to take the kids trick-or-treating, and then head back to Mav and Penny’s place for a little end-of-evening party. The kids get a massive sugar rush from all the candy, then end up crashing all over the couches and floor, while the adults get to enjoy some spiked apple cider and time to just relax.

- Whatever activities you and your family are doing, you always make sure to take lots of pictures and organize them into photo albums so that all of you will be able to look back on the fun memories you’ve made together as a family. You know how special the pictures are to Bradley, in particular, who always carries them with him when he has to travel for work.

- Despite how much you try to plan and do, you can honestly say that your favorite fall memories are the small ones—the sound of your children’s laughter as they help you bake cookies in the kitchen, their squeals of delight as Bradley lifts them onto his shoulders to help them reach for an apple dangling from one of the tall branches in the orchard, the feel of your husband’s strong arms wrapping around your waist as you stand at the sink in the kitchen after baking some small treat, the smell of cinnamon that somehow manages to cling to the air in your home all season long.

- While you claim that fall is your favorite season, the truth is that any season is your favorite, so long as you get to spend it with your favorite people by your side.

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1740

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

THE CHAIN MASTERLIST

Part Eight

They had been back at the farm for two hours and there was still no sign of them.

It was close to midnight, and she was starting to get worried. She went out to the front porch and sat on the front step, like that was going to make them show up quicker.

The glamour was now gone. Her hair tied up on top of her head. In a tank and jeans, wrapped in one of Sebastian’s cardigans, the one that she always made fun of him for. His old man cardigan. It smelt like him and that was all she cared about right now.

She knew it was stupid to just sit here and wait for them. It was only going to make her worry more as the seconds ticked by, but there wasn’t any other place that she wanted to be.

She had no idea how long she had been out there when she heard the front swing open and the springs of the door creek when it shut itself with a swing.

“Hey, if you’re going to be out here. You might as well have this”

She looked up and gratefully took the cup of tea out of Santiago’s hand as he sat beside her on the step.

“They should be here by now”

“They may have gotten caught up”

“But with who?”

“Listen, the gunshots were not Rojas”

“How do we know?”

“If it was Rojas and he was on to us. We wouldn’t be here”

“Geez, that’s comforting” she chuckled

“It was probably a drug deal or a mugging that went wrong. They will be here”

“I can’t believe I left them like that”

“That’s the way they would want it. Gabriela” he told her strongly “Will, included”

“That’s beside the point” she sighed “They would never have left me”

He chuckled sweetly before she looked over at him confused. She had never heard him laugh before

“Those rules are a little different with you”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you”

“That doesn’t make sense”

“To you maybe”

“Don’t be a jerk”

“I’m not” he laughed

“I think we need to keep moving. As much as I hate to say it”

“Means we’ll be in the jungle a lot longer”

“You sayin’ I can’t handle it?” she teased

“Gabriela, you know why I’m concerned”

“I’ll be fine, Santiago”

He looked over at her surprised. She had never once called him that, in all the years that they had known one another.

 

He spotted headlights up the dirt road and nodded his head in that direction. She looked over and sighed in relief. He didn’t even think that she realized that she done it. He left her and went back into the house without saying another word.

 

She didn’t say anything neither, when they parked the car and climbed the stairs. They wouldn’t admit to it but it was nice having someone waiting for them on the front porch.

Will walked up first. She mouthed ‘thank you’ before he smiled and winked at her. Frankie walked up the stairs, kissed her on top of her head and kept walking. Sebastian however, sat beside her.

“The cops caught up with us”

“They what?”

“About the club” he chuckled sweetly “We told them we were there but didn’t see anything. We just got out of there”

“Did they buy it?”

“Helped that I told them I was with a bunch of tourists” he teased

“Shut up” She bumped his shoulder playfully

“It worked”

“We’re going to get out of your hair”

“No”

“Yes”

“Gab”

“We have to keep moving”

“Listen, you got them a plane. Frankie is a pilot. Give them the address of the cabin and you. Luna, you stay here”

She gently took his face in her hands and shook her head

“You know I can’t do that”

“You’re going into a jungle. You”

“I’m going to fine, Baby. I’m fine”

“Just because you have pushed it down. Doesn’t mean you have dealt with it”

“It’s a few days surrounded by a bunch of men I trust. Its completely different. It’s all going to be fine”

He leant over kiss the tip of her nose. Sebastian didn’t tell her know that she had a nightmare the night before.

She was still dreaming about it.

 

#

 

She sat on the edge on Sebastian’s bed repacking her backpack. She was nervous, not that she would ever admit to that. Everybody had been quiet. Either getting their game face on or getting their minds ready. She wished she had that skill, but she didn’t. She knew this was going to suck. Getting back in their newly stolen car, at least it was only one this one. There was five of them, no reason to take anything more than they needed.

Suddenly something banged on the floor. There was a very well-worn pair of hiking boots at her feet. She smiled up at him.

“They are better than the girly shoes you have on right now”

“They’re not girly. They are ballet flats, and I didn’t know I was going hiking”

“I’m just glad I kept them”

“You kept all my stuff. You need to make room for yourself, it’s your house”

“Or you could just stay” he told her quietly

“Baby”

“There is no need for you not too.”

“You know I can’t do that”

“I know” he sighed sitting next to her “I had to try”

“Any other time I would say yes in a heartbeat”

“You know how I feel, right?”

“I do and I feel the same way, with my whole heart. I’m going to come back once I get them all out of this. I’m going to quit my job and come back here and we can figure out the rest”

“Just get through the next few days and call me once that plane lands in Canada”

He got down on the floor and put the boots on her feet and tied the laces, maybe a little too aggressively but she knew it wasn’t aimed at her. It was concern rather than anger

“I promise” she said softly

“I swear if this wasn’t for Frankie being here. I’d lock you in that damn barn”

“If it wasn’t Frankie, I wouldn’t be here at all”

He gently placed her feet back on the floor before offering his hand and pulling her off the bed, wrapping his arms around her tight

“If Gunner touches a hair on your head get all four guys to break his hands”

“Please with those guys. They would fly him over a chasm and drop him down” she joked “I’ll be fine”

There was a small knock on the doorframe. They both spun around and smiled at Benny

“Do you want me to take your bag?”

“Thanks Benny” she said reaching over handing her bag to him and not quiet letting go of Sebastian “I’ll be down in a few minutes”

Benny made his way downstairs and outside to the guys and the car. Santiago was looking annoyed more and more as the seconds ticked by.

“She’ll be here in a minute”

“We’re going to lose the light”

“It’s eight in the morning, Pope” Frankie told him quietly

“Doesn’t make it less true”

“Five minutes, man”

He didn’t say anything, but he hopped into the driver’s seat and fought the urge to press the horn. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmed his heartbeat. Once they were on the road, he was going to feel a whole lot better. At least that’s what he told himself

 

#

 

The trekked through thick jungle it had rained just before they had gotten there, it was both a good and a bad thing, but it was still better then being in a car driving anymore than they already had over the past week.

They always placed her between them. Two in front and two behind. She wondered if they even realized that they did it. Had they been in the job so long that it was second nature.

Frankie watched her as she walked behind Benny.

Suddenly she felt Frankie hold her hand before she looked up at him surprised

“You’ve been quiet today”

“Haven’t meant to be. Sorry”

“No, its fine”

“I’m okay, Frank” she chuckled sweetly “I promise”

“I think we better stop before we lose the light” Will called out

They didn’t really say much to each other after that. She guessed there was no need too.

She sat on her sleeping bag and planned to use her pack back as a pillow. She reached for her pack of cigarettes but before she had even lit up. Santiago took the packet out of her hand and threw it straight into the dense jungle. She stared in the same direction, wide eyed and mouth gaping

“What the fuck!”

“What happens if you spark a fire just cos you need a fix?”

“We’re all saved from your tomfoolery” she answered

“Tomfoolery? What is this Victorian England?’

“Go find them”

“Not a chance, Princesa”

“Don’t call me that”

“Reina?” he asked raising an eyebrow. She tried to suppress a smile but failed miserably “Yeah, thought you might like that”

Gabby only knew a little Spanish from what she picked up from around the place, but she knew what he had just called her

Queen.

“You’re annoying, Garcia”

“Feeling is mutual, Gabs”

“Maybe we’d all be better off if they just slept together already” Benny said under his breath

“Yep” Frankie answered quickly 

Although they knew where they were. They were all looking forward to  the time their heads could hit the pillow and all hoped it wouldn’t be a long night.

Thank God, they didn’t have to carry the money with them

#

She woke up in the pitch-dark hearing the bird calls and the animals scurrying around them. It felt too familiar. The smell of the wet soil and the sound of the trees swaying.  Suddenly she wasn’t there anymore. Suddenly it was hotter. The air was thicker, and she was dizzy. She felt sick.

Gabby’s eyes flew open as she shot up in her sleeping bag

She looked around at all the guys sleeping peacefully. She was thankfully that none of them had noticed. The last thing any of them needed was to be worried that she was losing her mind.

She had to remind herself where she actually was and who she was with

[unrequitedloveletter]

Constantly- Jesper Fahey x gn! reader

Okay! This is a rare fic of mine that sort of follows post-ck canon and I think it’s a pretty good foothold for the Spring Break Fic-Athon. A lot of my fics will have hurt/comfort and then fluffy undertones and with this event, general feelings of contentment accidentally became a running theme lol. 

Fic type- this is mostly fluff! I love domesticity and my love for it is definitely communicated through this fic lol

Warnings-none

You grinned as you woke, finding yourself in the Henley that Jesper had worn the day before. You paused, waiting to either hear the sound of Jespers voice as he hummed or the sound of rain pelleting against your window. 

It was much to your delight that you heard both, the rain gently smattering against the window in typical Ketterdam fashion combined with Jesper as he spoke, the words having been ones that you couldn’t quite make out. 

You got up, pulling on a thin flannel that you’d purchased on a vacation to Novyi Zem in the years before, pulling on a different pair of sweatpants to the ones you’d gone to bed in for a bit more warmth without having to touch the heater. 

You proceeded down the steps of the home you’d bought in the Financial District, headed to the left and found yourself standing in the kitchen, silently watching Jesper and Colm as they talked. 

“Yeah, it’s been great,” Jesper said. “Married life, I mean. I could get used to this. I think I already have.” 

“Marriage isn’t for everyone, but everyone who it’s for finds it incredible,” Colm said with a smile. “Coffee on Saturdays, lazing about on Sundays. Knowing that you’re with someone who you love, someone who your heart never wants to let go of, it’s one of the best feelings out there, Jesper.” 

You proceeded in, wrapped your arms around Jespers shoulders for a moment, grinning as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Morning, love,” he said. 

“Hey,” you responded, grabbing a mug and feeling grateful that hot coffee had already been brewing on the pot. “Sorry I slept in.” 

“Wanted to surprise you with breakfast, so you’re fine,” Jesper said. “Da popped in for a visit. He’s staying at the Geldrenner this week. Told me he’s looking to close on a farm in the countryside, though he won’t tell with whom it is he’s making a deal.”

You shot Colm a knowing look. “Kaz Brekker?” 

Colm laughed incredulously. “How the fuck did you know?” 

You shrugged as you poured the coffee into your mug, topped off Colms. “You’re not the kind of guy who appreciates the criminal deal, but you don’t see Kaz as a criminal,” you said. 

“You, in spite of everything you witnessed back in the days of the Ice Court, think of him as a semi-legitimate businessman. Kaz probably found out when he overheard Jesper and I talking, or Inej heard and told him, that you were looking to buy a piece of farmland either with a house attached or one cheap enough that you could build one on the acreage. He’s definitely bought off a decently priced piece of land and has probably offered it to you at a rate that you can afford, or that Jesper and I can afford should you not be able to. Kaz is exactly what Matthias used to compare him to. A demon.” 

Colm laughed again. “You compare your own friend to a demon?”

“He is one,” you laughed. “He’s a demon who cares very begrudgingly, but he cares even still. Why do you want a piece of farmland in Ketterdam, anyway?”

“I was gonna buy it for you folks, as a wedding gift,” Colm said. “I am going to. I know it’s been three weeks since you got married, but you and Jesper talked about living off of the money you’d make from farming in the Geldrenner during the Ice Court days. Don’t know if it’s still your dream, but there ain’t no house on that property and I’m sure Kaz wouldn’t hate you if you sold it back to him.” 

Jesper met your gaze as you took a sip of coffee. “Still your dream, love?”

You laughed. “Of course. Still yours?” 

Jesper nodded. “I’d go anywhere with you. Yeah.” 

“Well, building a house will take two years, at minimum. Are you sure you can handle that?” Colm asked. “Do you have the finances?” 

“We split our Ice Court money to finance this, and Kaz has put us in on a few heists with payouts in the millions in the years since, so I think we’ll manage,” Jesper grinned. “We’ll adopt a few farm cats. Cats make good mousers, and they’re not too difficult to feed.” 

You grinned, pressed a kiss to Jespers cheekbone and tried not to let the contentment you felt grow overwhelming. 

You and Jesper had long discussed it, the idea of buying a plot of land and living off of it. You could grow wheat, turn that it into flour and sell it to bakeries. You could grow fruits to sell them at the markets. With the right plot of land, you could open a vineyard and have wine, bourbon, and kvas to sell to Kaz so that locally made alcohol filled the bottles that were then poured at the Slat and at the Crow Club. It was an idea that both of you liked, an idea that both of you had agreed to look into after your wedding.

It seemed Colm had beaten you to the idea, though. 

“Thanks, Da,” Jesper said. “Thank you so much. We appreciate this endlessly, and we’ll pay you back for it.”

“It’s a wedding gift!” Colm said. “No, you won’t pay me back for a fucking wedding gift, Jesper. I love you, and that’s why I’m doing this. I’m gonna finish my coffee, close a deal, and then have Kaz reach out to you with the location of the acreage I purchased.” 

You and Jesper both laughed at Colms insistence. “Thank you,” you said.

Colm shook his head. “You’re family, and if you want to retire in your twenties, like you are now, you feel free. I would’ve if I had the chance.” 

You took a sip of your coffee, let yourself feel true happiness. You had the life you wanted after so much time spent chasing it. It felt so good to be able to say that, and damn if you were going to enjoy it. 

-

The farmhouse had taken three years to be move-in ready, but, six years since Colm had bought you the land, as you stood in your own backyard with Nina, sipping water and trying to ignore the feeling of contentment as it built in your heart, you had to agree that it was worth it. Wylan was playing the flute, and you were drinking water outside as Jesper and Kaz talked with Inej and Hanne. 

“So, Ketterdam again, hm?” You asked. Nina laughed. 

“Missed it too much, and Hanne gets it. We’ll be long distance for a few months, but I--I missed the salt in the air.”

“And you totally didn’t miss a flute playing demo man, or a wraith, or a sharpshooter, or a very intimidating guy with a very terrible haircut, or even a certain person who’s an expert with a crossbow?” 

“I missed you guys too,” Nina laughed. “A lot, actually. If I have to hear about one more milestone through a letter I’ll stab someone, I fear. Speaking of milestones, hows the baby?” 

The baby who was upstairs, fast asleep. Aditi Inej Fahey, named for Jespers mother and the best friend you’d known since you were seventeen years old. 

“She sleeps all the fucking time. It’s insane. Jesper and I think the universe is trying to trick us into having a second kid,” you laughed. “We’ve agreed not to, but on the basis that we might get two babies who sleep all the time, we’ve been tempted.” 

“Kaz and Inej dealt with the same thing,” Nina laughed. “Oh, I’m glad they didn’t have another mini-Brekker, but imagine the chaos if they had. Kaz would have taught the kid how to pay their bills before they could talk.” 

You laughed, and not long thereafter, Kaz and Jesper joined your conversation where Inej and Hanne went to talk to Wylan. 

“I quite like the life we’ve got,” Jesper said. “It’s fucking perfect.” 

Kaz nodded his agreement. “When you least expect it, you turn around and suddenly, it feels like life is wonderful.”

You grinned. “So you don’t hate your house in the Financial District, then?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’s close enough to the Slat and the Crow Club. I work from home a lot now, too, so no. I hate it considerably less than I thought I would.” 

Jesper laughed. “Yeah. Soon enough, you’ll be buying a plot of land, building a house on it, and moving in. Farming brings in good money, and these houses are perfect for summer. The fields are good for get-togethers and vow-renewals, as has become apparent.” 

Kaz shrugged. “I would live on a big plot of land, sure, but I wouldn’t use that for farming. Big machines around can lead to fatal accidents, so I would rather not. Good for a walk, though, maybe a few strawberry bushes.”

“Strawberries are perfect in summer,” you nodded. “Get them onto a stove with some sugar and they make an excellent jam or syrup. Blueberries too.”

“Inej has tricked me into eating homemade jam. Pretty good stuff, honestly.” 

The conversation continued, and one by one, your friends left. First, it’d been Inej and Kaz, gone home to make sure that the Slat didn’t devolve into chaos and to see that Colm wasn’t too tired after he’d offered to babysit. Then it was Wylan, leaving with hugs and promises to meet up for breakfast in the following weeks. Nina and Hanne left last, exiting with kisses pressed to cheeks and tellings of excitement for Ninas return to Ketterdam.

Just like that, you and Jesper were alone in your house again, folding laundry and humming and mentioning bringing the flour that you’d gotten from the wheat and the kvas that you’d gotten from it, into the city. It was summer, and you would return to the city once more with the start of autumn. Seeing Kaz and Inej would grow frequent as you once again became bigger players and got decent paychecks from more than just the farming. 

You would laugh at Jespers jokes and have dinners with him, Inej, and Kaz. You would bond over how it’d begun to feel as though time was flying by, how it’d felt like that for the better part of a decade.

But, in that moment, as Jesper offered you his hand and you took it, as you danced in the light of the candle you’d lit on your coffee table, you found that you were so excited for life to keep on going, because it kept on going with Jesper. It kept on going with your friends, the people who made life worth it, the ones who’d mattered to you then and would always matter.

Jesper pressed his forehead against yours. “I will love you until I am rendered incapable of doing so,” Jesper whispered. “I love you constantly.” 

You grinned as Jespers arms wrapped around your waist, as yours rested on his shoulders, and your lips met, your response being communicated in just that kiss. 

Jesper loved you constantly, and in return, you loved him the same. You always would. 

[dreamriordanverseunboxings]

General mystery items/collections ideas for my dream Riordanverse unboxings

Weapons

Pins (and an armory themed pinboard or hanging)

Charms to go along with their hiding place (like a charm at the end of a pen for riptide or on a rune pendant for Jack/Sumarbrandr or on a bracelet for Serwa’s blade)

Stickers (and an armory themed sticker book)

Pens

Gods

Playing cards - 14 god cards for each pantheon to correspond with 2-10, J, Q, K, A and a joker/trickster card. And ideally similar gods would be in similar places, so Zeus and Odin might both be kings. Collecting four pantheons would allow you to play any regular 1 deck card game, but maybe having pantheons from similar areas (Greece and Rome, Mayan and Native American, Egyptian and Ghanaian, etc) be the same color would allow for mixing and matching or games where two decks are used, like five crowns. Or could play games like UNO. I once made a game like this for a camp I taught, so this one is close to my heart.

Trading cards with stats for a mythomagic type game across the pantheons

Pins (characters, or cabin sets representing each, or chariot or car, or train car representing them and their power)

Stationary set with quotes

Themed socks (this might be the part of me that wanted to make sock monkeys for each camp halfblood cabin)

Dice sets (Artemis dice on tic tok was doing a Norse mythology one as I was reading Magnus Chase)

Monsters/Enemies

Lenticular cards (many of them morph somehow with the mist)

Trading cards with stats for a mythomagic type game across the pantheons

Stickers! Or magnets/pins.

Tshirts of locations they work (monster donut!)

Plushies

Replicas

Coins (golden drachma, Mayan death/jaguar coin, etc)

Quest items

Prints

Blueprints of important locations

Maps

Family photos/friend or quest group photos in family portrait mode

‘Photos’ from locations or moments between combat

Menus from food places

Report cards or detention slips

Wanted posters

Scrapbook pages (to go with the prints, make your own demigod scrapbook - my inner middle schooler would have gone nuts to use this as a way to do a book reports - note to self, reading notebooks with book report type prompts!)

Lists of chapter titles

Demigods

Wanted poster pins or sticker sets

Pins with themes

Stickers with themes (I saw an awesome sticker set that had what each quest member had packed for a quest)

Famous quotes on bookmarks

Famous quotes as stickers

Detention slip notepads

Their own playing cards or trading cards with stats

Camps/training locations

Tshirts (beyond the usual camp halfblood/Jupiter, I also enjoy seeing the ones like Delphi strawberry farms!)

Lanyards

Maps

Other wearables, like backpacks/hats

Beads for a growing beaded necklace collection

Important locations/realms

Stickers and a 9-realms passport sticker book!

Fairy doors

Keys

Potions or potion ingredients

Runes as stickers (decorated with their meaning somehow)

Puzzles

Mugs or cups

[mjolnir-steve]

if ur feeling so inclined i'd love to read something with our bestest boy steve rogers, maybe fall-themed? maybe you're making hot chocolate or carving pumpkins or something 🥹 of course no pressure. congrats again my love!!!

AM I EVER!!!! Thank you so much for this sweet prompt and for being an even sweeter friend. I adore you 🥺💜 I guess I’ll call this a ficlet because it’s almost 1000 words. Oops!

A Whittle More Practice

Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Word count: 876

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff hehehe

A/N: Special shout-out to @the-sal-del-mar for the pun/title 😉 Sweet divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics!

“Steeeeeeeeeve, we have to grab some pumpkins! Pretty please?” Before he had a chance to respond, you were already walking over to the wooden pallet where pumpkins of all shapes and sizes were stacked for purchase. You were on the checkout line at the apple orchard after spending most of the morning on your boyfriend’s shoulders, picking the most perfect, unblemished apples from the tops of the trees. He even helped out a few families whose little ones insisted on using the former Captain America as a human elevator.

As you scrutinized the selection in front of you, Steve grabbed a pumpkin-carving kit at the register while a teenager weighed your basket of apples. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he called to you, smiling and running over to help you since you were struggling to carry four medium-sized pumpkins on your own. He handed his debit card to the boy ringing you up before you even had a chance to take out your wallet, earning a huff from you. He leaned down to sign the receipt, tutting at you. “None of that. This was my idea. My treat.” 

You pressed a kiss to his flannel-covered bicep before he placed the pumpkins and apples in the complimentary wagon from the orchard. With the handle in one hand and your hand in the other, he wheeled your purchases back to the car, loading the trunk swiftly as you climbed in and started the engine, turning up the heat just a little bit.

A little less than an hour later, you made it back to your shared apartment. “Hey, why don’t you go up and clear the table for the pumpkins? I’ll carry everything,” Steve ordered gently, squeezing your hand in his before getting out of the car. To Steve’s dismay, you took two of the pumpkins and the gallon of fresh apple cider and climbed the two flights of stairs, awkwardly maneuvering to get the door unlocked with your hands so full.

Once inside, you poured some of the cider into a pot and turned on the stove, warming the sweet and spiced drink to enjoy while you kicked off fall festivities. You set to work clearing off the kitchen table and set down some newspapers and plastic bags to aid in cleaning up the inevitable mess. Finally, you changed into your stained, designated crafting t-shirt so you wouldn’t ruin your new sweater you’d picked out just for this morning’s activities.

“Sweetheart, can you come open the door for me?” Steve called from the hall, arms full of all sorts of farm-fresh goodies, plus the other two pumpkins. You let him in and helped carry everything to the kitchen counter, then stopped to pour the two mugs of cider and brought them to the table. “That smells amazing.” He smiled softly and his eyes closed on instinct as he inhaled the scent of the drink, his face so innocent, reminding you that there was so much he never got to experience as a kid and before going into the ice.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend is the most beautiful man in the world,” you cooed, cupping his cheek in your hand before kissing him, making him blush all rosy and warm. You peppered kisses across his face, making sure not to miss any freckles, until he was laughing so hard you had to stop.

“All right, all right. I give.” He kissed your cheek, mouthing a thank you against your skin. He grabbed his laptop from the bedroom, placing it on the kitchen counter and playing Hocus Pocus, which you’d introduced to him this time last year. “Let’s do this.” Steve rubbed his hands together in determination before tearing open the carving kit. He’d never done this before, but how hard could it really be? 

You set to work on your first pumpkin, cutting out a standard jack-o’-lantern face with ease. As you started on your second, Steve was still struggling with his first. The knives were too small for his hands, and no matter how careful he was, he kept breaking through the rind in places he hadn’t intended. You could tell he was becoming frustrated, so around the time “I Put a Spell on You” finished playing in the background, you slipped away to Steve’s office and returned with some of his paints and brushes.

“Baby?” Steve looked up at you, dejectedly dropping the tiny blade to the table. “Would you rather paint your other pumpkin? I think we can just use this one for pie at this point.” You gave him a small smile, placing the supplies on top of a clean section of newspaper. He tilted his head up to kiss your cheek, then grabbed the bottle of black paint, shaking it vigorously before squeezing some out on the newspaper and dipping a brush into it.

“How do you always know how to fix things? Fix me?” He began by painting the stem black while he thought of his design.

“There was nothing to fix, Steve.” You rubbed his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “You just need a whittle more practice.”

Steve snorted, nearly spitting out the sip of cider he’d dared to take. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

[crestfallercanyon]

🎄 Tag Game Wednesday 🎁

Thanks for the tag @mybrainismelted ! These are so cute! (I feel bad because I think there was definitely one last week that I’ve blanked on, maybe I’ll go back and do it if I can find it lol). And thanks @jrooc for making the qs!

🔠 Favourite nickname you’ve ever been given: I was called Sunshine throughout most of k-12. It’s nice to think people found me to be so chipper.

🗺️ Where are you located? I’ll give you the same as I have on my AO3 — on a US coastline.

🥶⛱️ What season is it where you are now? Winter

🥳 Favourite tradition this time of year: I adore going on long walks and seeing Christmas lights.

🥧 Favourite holiday food: I’m a big fan of all the different cookie traditions from families and friends. They’re just a sweet little personal treat you don’t get any other time.

☕️ Mulled wine, eggnog or hot apple cider? Eggnog.

🍗 Turkey, Ham or Nut Roast (Or Tofurkey?)? Probably ham?

🏔️🏖️ Would you rather spend the December holidays in:  A cabin in the woods surrounded by snow, or a house on the beach with sun and sand? A cabin in the woods surrounded by snow. I love the cliche classic of it, I love when it FEELS like winter around me during the holidays.

❄️ Are you pro-snow or anti-snow? I adore snow from about December through February. Then I’m good. Don’t need it anymore lol.

⛄️ Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. Not in a LONG time though.

⛷️ Skiing or Snowboarding? Skiing — you have more control. Though, to be honest, I prefer sledding or snow-tubing or even ice skating as I would rather not have my feet attached to long boards where if I fuck up I can swiftly break both my legs.

🎍 Do you decorate for the holidays? A little! Also changed all my coffee mugs to my collection of winter themed mugs.

🎬 Favourite holiday movie? I love the classics — It’s a Wonderful Life, The Preacher’s Wife, White Christmas; but I also am basic and enjoy Elf and watching the silly Hallmark movies too 😂

📖 Favourite holiday fanfic? Um, gosh, I don’t know if I go back and reread any holiday fanfics in particular, but my brain’s a bit slow today so maybe I’m missing something obvious. I, too, though, am enjoying the sam_writes_fics 12 days of Christmas. I’m also POSITIVE there are lots of coldflash (captain cold/the flash) Christmas fics I’ve enjoyed over the years. If someone else knows I’ve read something, I’m sure you’re right and I probably loved it!

🎥 If you were to star in a Hallmark movie, who would be your love interest? Well, going by hallmark stereotype, I am the woman with the overly stressful job who needs to be disconnected from my world, so I would imagine either a man who owns a Christmas tree farm or like a carpenter, some sort of woodworker who is in touch with nature. If I’m supposed to actually cast the person myself? … I don’t typically do that kind of thing, but you can refer to my “tumblr blorbos” for inspiration.

Where would it take place? A small town, surrounded by farms and forest, get back in touch with my hometown roots.

To tag 💕! @michellemisfit , @mmmichyyy , @callivich And anyone else who would like to join!

[percabeths-blue-cookies]

In My Heart is a Christmas Tree Farm

Here’s the ao3 link

Summary:

Annabeth, Conner, and Travis plan on going home for the holidays, but Annabeth dreads having to face her parents and their opinions on her relationships, work, and just life in general. She intends on getting someone to go with her for the trip to pretend to be her boyfriend so she won’t have to suffer all Christmas vacation listening to her parents complain. That’s when she meets Percy…

-Chapter 3-

Annabeth spent the next morning laying on her couch, drink hot chocolate, and eating sweets. She felt her phone buzz and she grabbed it off of the coffee table. She was surprised at who was calling her

“Hello?” She said

“So when am I picking you up?” Percy asked

“I never said anything about picking me up?” Annabeth said confused.

“Well you invited me to your friends game night, so the least I can do is walk with you.” He says

“Oh, um around 3:45?” She says smiling

“I’ll be there wise girl” he says and hangs up

She then realizes that he doesn’t even know where she lives.

Annabeth: I didn’t even tell you where to pick me up at

Coolest guy ever to exist: well duh but I know what building you live in so I’ll just meet you outside

Annabeth: sounds good

Annabeth: oh and I forgot to tell you, it’s kind of our tradition to wear pjs to these game nights. And tonight’s theme is Christmas pjs so you better show up in something amazing

As Annabeth settled back into the couch she gets another call

“What Conner” she says irritated

“Jeez, love you too Annabae” he says laughing

“Sorry I’m just trying to relax.”

“Okay well you can wait a second.” Conner says

“Okay Conner what’d you need?” She asked

“Who’s this guy that you’re bringing tonight.” Conner asks

“His name is Percy, the one that I asked you about last night.” Annabeth says as she gets up and rinses out her mug

“Okay… how’d you two meet.” He asks

“Well two days ago we bumped into eachother and he spilled coffee down shirt on accident.” Annabeth goes onto explaining yesterdays events

“Awww has Annabae finally found her true love.” He says laughing

“Conner shut the fuck up before I come over to your house and shove your own foot up your ass” Annabeth says

“Whatever Annabae you know you love me.”

“Bye conner” she says and hangs up roller her eyes

Annabeth watches another movie and then start getting ready. She’s wearing a Christmas sweater that says “Where’s my Ho at” with ornaments and slowflakes all over it, and plaid pajama pants with Ugg slippers. As she tends to her hair she checks the time. It’s only 3:14 so she still has plenty of time. As she gets ready she turns on Christmas music.

Once she’s finally ready she grabs her jacket and heads out of the door. As she walks out of the smartens complex she sees Percy. In a Rudolph onesie. And it has lights all over it.

She starts laughing at him as he walks up to her.

“What are you laughing at wise girl.” He says smiling

“You dummy, I love your onesie.” She says still laughing.

As they walk over to pipers house Annabeth explains who everyone In the friend group is.

“So first there’s Piper obviously. She is beautiful, and she has a good sense of humor. She’s a literal queen at putting together these game nights so be prepared to be dazzled.” She says

“I’m very prepared.” Percy says

“Then there’s Jason, her boyfriend. He’s pretty smart but doesn’t have much of a sense of humor and sometimes takes things too seriously. But he’s a really good guy.”

“Okay…”

“Then there’s Leo. I don’t even know how to explain Leo. He is basically a little kid in an adult body. He makes way to many jokes and can rarely ever take anything seriously. He also physically can’t sit still so he moves around a lot. You too would definitely get along ”

“Hey!” He says with a smile and lightly pushes her arm

“Then there’s Frank. Frank is a super chill guy. He’s a quiet dude. He looks really scary but is really a bit teddy bear.”

“And then Hazel is Franks girlfriend. She’s really sweet and baked most of the food at the game nights. She’s a really good artist too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And then there Conner… he’s super chill, and he’s funny. But don’t get on his bad side. He’s also kinda protective of me since I’m like his little sister.”

“Noted”

As they approach pipers apartment Annabeth gets exited. She hasn’t seen her friends for weeks now.

“Also I might wanna warn you, they will probably make some stupid jokes. Just ignore them though okay?” Annabeth says

“Okay. You ready?”

“Yep” Annabeth says opening the door.

Leo, Jason, Piper and Conner were already there. Piper was in the kitchen warming up mugs of hot chocolate. Leo, Jason and Conner were all in the living room playing a racing game on Jason’s Xbox.

Piper was wearing a Santa hat, with a red tank top and plaid pants like Annabeth’s.

Jason was wearing a Santa Claus onesie.

Leo, because he was Leo, decided to wear a Santa hat, a shirt that says “Ask about my big tree” with a plastic Christmas lights necklace and pants that had grinch heads all over them.

And Conner had a penguin onesie on.

“Hey guys!” Annabeth says as Piper runs up to give her a hug.

“Annabeth! Finally I havnt seen you in so long.” Piper says

“I know it’s been a busy few weeks.” Annabeth says as she sets down her bag

“And who’s this?” Piper says looking at Percy.

“This is Percy, Percy this is Piper.”

As they shake hands Jason, Leo, and Conner all come into the kitchen.

“You must be Percy, love your onesie man I’ve heard lots about you.” Conner says as he shakes Percy’s hand.

“Conner what are you even talking about I didn’t tell you he was even coming until today.” Annabeth says blushing.

“I know Annabae I’m just playing around.” Conner says

Leo and Jason both introduced themselves to Percy. Fifteen minutes later Frank and Hazel walk in with boxes of cakes cupcakes cookies and more. As they set up the food table Annabeth went into the living room to help pick out the first game.

“Percy, how do you feel about monopoly?” Leo asked with a smirk.

“I don’t think he’s ready to play monopoly with you and Piper yet Leo.” Annabeth says laughing

“Why not wise girl?” Percy asked

“You’ll see” she says grabbing the monopoly box and opening it.

After hours of yelling, cussing, monopoly prices flying everywhere, and Leo jumping across the table at Frank, Hazel and Frank end up leaving.

“Yeah I guess it’s time for us to leave too,” Annabeth says

As her and Percy walk home Annabeth figures that it’s time to ask him.

“Percy?” She says suddenly nervous

“Yes?” He says

“Um so tomorrow Travis Conner and I are leaving to go back home for the holiday, and um-“ she cuts off

“Spit it out wise girl” he says laughing

“Well my parents are always telling me to get a boyfriend and stuff so I was just wondering if you would want to ya know go with us to Colorado and pretend to be my boyfriend.” Annabeth says really fast.

“I could think of some worse things than spending the week with you.” He says smiling.

She looks down blushing.

“I’ll just have to find a ticket tonight. And let my mom know I won’t be here for Christmas.”

“Okay are you sure? I mean I could pay for your ticket if you want.” Annabeth says

“Of course wise girl. And no it’s fine I’ll pay for my own ticket. Like what could be so bad about visiting your parents?” Percy says as they make it to her apartment.

“Oh you don’t even know.” Annabeth says with a small apologetic smile.

As she gets into bed that night she texts Percy.

Annabeth: our flight is at 11:00 am tmr

Coolest guy ever to exist: okay I’m booking a ticket right now

Annabeth: ok are you sure I can’t buy it for you

Coolest guy ever to exist: I’m sure Annabeth. I’ll see you tmr bright and early.

[susiecarter]

Tag 9 People You Want to Get to Know Better

I was tagged by @nixie-deangel!

Three ships: Mmm, if I had to pick only three to sustain me forever—Xena/Gabrielle, Bruce/Clark, and Garak/Bashir!

First ever ship: Probably also Xena/Gabrielle, tbh. My family didn’t have satellite or cable TV for a pretty long time, but once when we were on vacation somewhere that did, I caught like half an episode of XWP and I was ENTRANCED—I didn’t ship them ship them, I didn’t know what that meant, but the emotional intensity about each other was the thing that grabbed me, so it was definitely the first, like, wordless shipping impulse I felt.

Last song/album: I’m an Old, I still have mix CDs I’ve burned for myself in my car’s CD changer (the car is also an Old :’D), so the song was “Come with Me Now” by the Kongos, but the “album” was “Susie’s favorite songs either directly off the Lucifer soundtrack or just more generally about the devil”, because that is that CD’s theme. :D

Last movie: Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings! I’d seen it when it came out, but my mother hadn’t, so the last time my sister and I were at the house for dinner, we all watched it together.

Currently reading: ... Long story, but at my last appointment, my dental hygienist gave me a copy of her husband’s self-published novel, and I need to read it before my next cleaning, so that’s what I’m working my way through right now. (It’s about a mountain man in the Old West and his survival in the wilderness, which is, uh. Not really my jam. /o\)

Currently watching: I’m actually working my way through a couple different groups of things, because what I watch depends on the activity I’m doing while watching. Work project that’s also eating up my off-hours = I need something to listen to, but I need to have already seen it before so I can concentrate = Campaign 1 of Critical Role on Youtube (for about the fourth time), S1 of Legend of Vox Machina, and Better Off Ted. Crocheting = I can actually look up sometimes and also have enough brain free to absorb new things = CW Stargirl, S2 of Legend of Vox Machina, NCIS: Hawai’i, and Clarkson’s Farm.

Currently consuming: A big mug of chai (like, Oregon Chai mix out of a packet, not real tea :’D) because it snowed all day yesterday and part of today and I need some c o z y.

Currently craving: ... I honestly don’t know, tbh. My usual cravings are for chocolate, Chinese food, and pizza, but I’ve satisfied all of them within the last week, and pretty generously, too. Maybe the true answer here is NAPS—I’m always craving sleep a little bit, but the time change last weekend definitely made it worse than usual. /pulls blanket over head

If you see this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged! ♥

[providencepeakrp]

Wolf Wild Rescue

The rescue will be accepting donations at their stall all week, offering a variety of merchandise that would make a great holiday gift for anyone in need of a warm hoodie made for Colorado winter days or a mug for that holiday hot chocolate. Don’t be scared off by two of the oldest and laziest rescues lounging at the feet of employees in the booth! They’re content to snooze for a few hours and help demonstrations of irresponsible crossbreeding before returning home for the night.

Farm to Fork

If you smell something delicious, it’s almost guaranteed to come from the large kettles brewing melt-in-your-mouth ham and bean soup and a warm vegetable medley lining the tent beside Farm to Fork’s booth. Other than soup, they also have plenty of organically sourced jerky and fruit and vegetable leathers to browse through as well as other foods that are bound to make your mouth water.

The Midnight Club

Need a little pick-me-up during your late night holiday shopping? Never fear! The Midnight Club will be offering their darkest of brews guaranteed to keep you up for the of the season! Top it off with their Krampus triple dark chocolate cookies if you’re really feeling the spirit.

The Open Range

Have a dog or two or three? The Open Range dog park will be selling oodles of gourmet dog treats for you to spoil them with! Don’t have a dog? No worries! They’ll also be selling cat treats, toys, and treats for a variety of animals including those outdoor birds that may swoop by your windows. All proceeds go to the improvement and upkeep of the dog park located in University Heights.

The Sugar Shack

Stop by the booth that smells the sweetest to fill your stockings hung by the fireplace quickly. The Sugar Shack will be offering everything from bags of mixed candies to holday-themed toy candies that are sure to wow even the most picky child. You can also find handpulled candy canes in a variety of flavors and chocolates in every shape and size to fulfill any of your holiday needs and hosting gift orders!

Blooming Dale’s

A kind old man who could be mistaken for Jolly St. Nick himself, the owner of Blooming Dale’s will have a variety of handpicked in-seasons flower bouquets and potted poinsettas. In a pinch for a holiday tree or have a small space to fill? Blooming Dale’s has partnered with Jack’s Tree Farm to offer the residents of the city a rent-a-potted-tree program. Pick up the tree from the holiday market and return it to either location after the season is over for it to be planted back on the farm.

Frontier Foods

The grocery store will be accepting donations of unopened pantry items to contribute to the local food bank and families in need and will be at their booth for the entire week. Be sure to stop by and see where you can help out!

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

You find a package delivered to you. Inside you find a plush toy cow that moo’s when squeezed, a large farm themed blanket big enough for 3, and a large adamantium mug with Ultra-dad engraved upon it. There is also a small note, “For your kin, from our Kin - the Leagues”

Guilliman smiles and gives Minerva the cow, the hugs her and Yvrain under the blanket.

[strawberryhierophant]

Coffee Date (short story)

He was afraid she might not show, but more afraid she would.

"Wes?"

The voice was honey. Wes looked up from his phone. The cafe was packed, noisy. She leaned over his table, the V-neck of her sunflower-yellow blouse dangerous. It offered Wes a glimpse at her small, pert breasts. The skin glistened. She smelled of lilacs.

"Alice?"

She took a seat, smiling. Wes wondered if she could detect the drop of gin he'd thrown back in the car before he'd hurried into this awful crowd. The people made him nervous, and he felt himself glancing over his shoulder as he said, "Nice place. I've passed it before, on my way to work. You've been here?"

"My favorite spot," she said, motioning for a waiter, "I come here for a late night coffee sometimes."

"Coffee before bed? Isn't that bad for sleep?"

"It helps me," she said. The waiter took her order: honey latte, iced, almond milk.

Wes rubbed his forehead with one finger, trying to wipe away the layer of glistening sweat. He wished they'd chosen a different time. Mornings at a cafe. Of course it would be busy.

"Would you like to sit outside?"

It felt like a plead. Wes saw a hint of confusion in her eyes and changed the subject.

"I love the vibe in this place. Most coffee shops around here have an industrial feel. This one feels... more like a regular room."

"Right!" She almost exploded with exuberance. "It's like a cool combination of rustic and eclectic with nature themes. Did you notice the terrariums on those shelves over there?"

He hadn't.

"I did!" Wes nodded aggressively. "There are so many." But he was looking at the barista, who was looking at him. Tight lips, oval face. Did she recognize him from somewhere? He hoped not. He took a sip of his coffee. His mouth felt dry.

"I've always loved nature," Alice said as the latte arrived. She sighed appreciatively, staring into the large white mug. "My biggest dream is to own a farm someday. Sheep, cows, chickens. Just a little place in the country. Wide open air."

The crowd seemed to press in around them.There was no doubt about it now. The barista was watching him. Her shifting eyes kept darting in his direction.

Sweat dripped down Wes' back. It tickled his spine. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, turning away from the counter, away from the prying eyes of the barista.

"And quiet."

"Mm," Wes agreed.

"That's why I love Natural Ground."

What was she talking about now?

"It's not cold or stuffy like some other cafes. All the green is so inviting, don't you think?"

A woman at a neighboring table leaned in and whispered something to her male companion, who promptly burst into a fit of laughter. Tickling sweat trickled down Wes' spine.

"Natural Ground," he repeated. "Is very inviting."

Was that the name of the cafe? He couldn't be sure. He couldn't remember.

"What about you?" Alice asked. "Do you have a dream?"

The barista was on the phone. Who was she calling. Outside, he thought he saw the flash of lights.

"Something you'd like to do?" Alice went on. "Somewhere you'd like to go?"

Her eyes glimmered with curiosity, with genuine interest.

"There is, as a matter of fact."

Alice leaned in, elbows on the table, the mug of coffee cradled in both hands.

"Actually, I could show it to you."

Alice's eyebrows shot up. A flicker of mischief flashed in her eye.

"We just got here," she said.

A very tall man rose from his table and walked menacingly towards their table. His hands were large and the knuckles went swinging past Wes' head, dangerously close. The barista was occupied with a customer.

"It's a one-time invitation," he said, forcing a devious smile. "Take it or leave it."

Alice placed her coffee down.

"Well," she said, "Aren't you interesting. What sort of trouble are you trying to get me into?"

Wes shot a glance behind him. The tall man looked him in the eye as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"You'll have to find out," he said, taking her hand. When he rose from the table, he was surprised, and relieved, that she followed his lead.

END

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