#me when we are cake topper

[scout-stims]

bald eagle with sweet treats stimboard!!!!

🦅 🍰 🦅 🍰 🦅 🍰 🦅 🍰 🦅

#very self indulgent............ #stimboard #my stuff #bald eagle #gif #gifs #stim gifs #brown #brown stim #pink #pink stim #me when we are cake topper

[blujayonthewing]

WE DID THE THING

#MARRIED!!! #for all of my panicking leading up the day of was PERFECT oh my god #it was so beautiful and everyone cried very much #and there were SWORDS #and I love my FRIENDS #and I MARRIED!! MY BOY!!! HUSBAND BOY #I will probably come back with more pics when we get the pro pics back-- at least for topper ON the cake and SWORDS heeheehoohoo #but YEAH. GOOD DAY. I'M MRS JAY NOW AND THAT'S WILD #about me #justin #HUSBAND

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Seen some posts about how it's a good idea to watch OFMD with non-fandom people and see what they think. Watched the first three eps with my parents and they had some great takes

My mom was righteously upset that Stede isn't wearing any fun outfits. "He must be so sad!"

She was also really sad that Ed crashed a wedding. "It didn't even look like a fun wedding," I said. "Yeah," she goes, "but what if that happened at my wedding? :((("

My dad said he didn't like the first episode and seemed really anxious the whole time. Upon prompting, it's because he's the biggest Lucius/Pete fan on earth and he was just upset Lucius wasn't there. "No wonder Pete was so grumpy!"

The wedding cake toppers actually made my mom cry. We had to pause the episode.

When Lucius showed up my dad literally jumped out of his chair like he was watching a sports game. I had to spoil them getting married because he would not stop asking me if they get married this season.

The biggest and most surprising thing is how much they, two old straight people, really loved the reunion mermaid scene. I'd been prepared for them to think it was too weird since it is so unapologetically sweet and camp and just queer. They fucking loved it and wouldn't stop talking about it. Just proves that forcing queer content to be sanitized "for the straights" is a pure nonsense.

#ofmd #our flag means death

[s-4pphics]

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 

As a dishwasher. 

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from��� 

Where were you before this? 

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 

You woke up screaming. 

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. 

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 

You’re not fucking crazy. 

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 

A heavy exhale left her. 

“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 

That was odd. 

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 

Family. You almost broke down. 

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?” 

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.” 

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 

Everything around you went dark. 

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 

You love me, Ellie… right? 

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 

Ellie… d-do you love me? 

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid. 

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 

Started drinking. 

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 

See? I can stop whenever I want. 

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 

Hm? 

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 

But you didn’t believe her. 

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 

… Are you fucking drunk right now? 

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you. 

She knows. She knew. 

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 

“Ma’am?” 

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 

Some silence passed before you spoke. 

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 

It can’t be. 

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 

“Look at me! I love you!” 

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 

“I love you more.” 

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 

“E-Ellie?” 

Silence. 

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 

A dark chuckle left you. 

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 

You’re awake. And you’re angry. 

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 

You’re going fucking crazy. 

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 

Silence. 

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.” 

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?” 

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 

Ellie… Ellie, please… 

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 

“Miss me?” 

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 

Is… Did she cut you with that? 

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 

“E-Ellie?” 

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 

What the fuck is going on… 

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 

Her words were hardly registering. 

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 

Other side? “… Am I dead?” 

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?” 

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 

You missed her so fucking much. 

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 

“You wanna watch?” 

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 

“So much fun.” 

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 

Almost. 

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 

“You’re a bad kisser.” 

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 

“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 

Ellie… 

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 

I’m so sorry… 

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 

I miss you so much… 

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 

I love you… I love you… I love you… 

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 

You love me. 

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 

But you spoke first. 

You love me, right? 

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 

More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 

A sad smile grew on your face. 

“Almost did…” 

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 

I wish I hated you. 

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 

“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 

“Your stamina’s fucked.” 

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 

“What.” 

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.” 

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 

When you wake, there’s warmth. 

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 

—

—

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #kinktober #lesbian #demon!ellie #works 𖧧࣪

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 #OFMD S2 Teaser #OFMD Season 2 Spoilers #Gentlebeard #Blackbonnet #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Oluwande Boodhari #Jim Jimenez #Frenchie #Fang #Izzy Hands #Spanish Jackie #Revenge Rambles #OKAY NOW I'M ALL OUT OF JUICE HSDLJKSS #ALL OUT OF BRAIN POWER #BUT MAN #MAN!!! #SO SO SO OSO SO SODOSJDKLSDKLS EXCITED

[rafesfavgirl]

gurl i neeed a part 2 of stop asking me to stay, that broke me😭😭😭

you ask, i deliver :) hope you like it!!

i don't regret a thing — r. cameron

part 1.

❝ we're not the only ones,  i don't regret a thing every word i've said, you know i'll always mean ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, knowing the situation with ward, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: swearing, toxic relationship, mentions of drug use, mainly fluff, a little angst, might still make you cry. rafe being an absolute simp for you, basically.

rafe wakes up the next morning, faced-down on topper's living room couch with almost no recollection of what happened the night before. except one thing—you'd finally walked away from him.

"not enough to choose me. you give in every time." your words echo in his head, as he opens his eyes.

fuck. what did he do?

"good morning sunshine," kelce comes down the stairs and greets rafe, who looked as if he couldn't move from the couch. "you sleep well?"

"i slept like shit," rafe groans, finally sitting himself up. "what the hell happened last night?"

"you mean other than you getting coked out and royally screwing things over with y/n?" kelce sasses him. "not much bro."

rafe shoots him a glare. "i did not royally screw things over with y/n."

"are you sure about that?" kelce raises a brow at him. "cause i had to drive her home last night crying, bro."

rafe's ear perk up at kelce's confession of you crying over him. you wouldn't have. you were the one who broke up with him.

"she was crying?" rafe asks.

"do you seriously even have to ask?" kelce replies. "i can't even count on two hands how many times you've made her cry the last few months."

no, that couldn't be true. surely he hadn't made you cry that often.

"shut the fuck up kelce," rafe gets up from the couch in complete denial of how shitty he's treated you the last few months and makes his way over to the kitchen.

rafe opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, while kelce joins him in the kitchen.

"you know it's true," kelce says, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "you just never see it, because she won't let you."

was he right?

"you know how y/n is, bro," kelce adds, as i take a sip of water. "she'll never let you know you're hurting her, because you fear nothing more than being the cause of her pain and losing her. but she's also not going to beg and cry for you to stay and fight for her."

i did know that. that's what i loved about her. she didn't necessarily play hard to get when i tried asking her out on a date after months of texting, but she didn't give in too easily either. she wanted me to prove i was serious about her before giving me a real chance. she knew her worth.

i recap the bottle i'm drinking from and set it down on the counter beside me, my eyes focused on kelce. "so what should i do?"

kelce holds his hands up. "if you don't know by now, i can't help you."

—

rafe wasn't an idiot. he knew what he had to do.

so, after going home and taking a shower to freshen up and get a change of clothes, he drove to the flower shop in town to get you a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, then nothing bundt cakes to get your favorite treat—a white chocolate raspberry bundt cake—and finally, your house.

once he parked his truck in front of your house and got out, he went through his usual routine of rounding around to your backyard, where he moved the ladder the gardeners used towards your bedroom window.

he climbed up and knocked, balancing the flowers and bundt cake in one hand.

you were sitting in bed watching after we fell on your laptop with a box of tissues beside you and puffy, red eyes when you hear the knock on your window.

without even thinking about it, you already knew who it was. this was just what he did. and against your better judgment, you got up from your bed, and walked over to pull the curtains open and find rafe outside with a regretful look on his face, a bouquet of flowers and a small box of your favorite treat.

slowly, but surely, you unlock the window and pull it up.

"i'm sorry," he speaks before you can, and you scoff.

"you know, i'm getting real sick of hearing you say that," you reply, turning around to walk away and reposition yourself back on your bed, while he slips in through your window.

"i got you flowers," he offers you a small smile and holds both items out to you. "and your favorite bundt cake. white chocolate raspberry."

your eyes shift from the gifts in his hand to his piercing blue eyes. they were no longer dark like they were last night, but there was a sense of uncertainty in them. like he wasn't sure he could win you back.

"so what? am i suppose to just forgive you? just like that?" you retort.

he lets out a sigh, and takes a seat at the edge of your bed, placing both items down on your bed next to your box of tissues. he finally gets a good look at you—from the messy bun on your head, to the bags under your eyes from barely getting any sleep last night, to your red, puffy eyes—and realizes just how badly he's messed up this time.

"i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun." he still couldn't believe he said those words to you last night.

"i don't deserve your forgiveness," he admits. "i know that. but i want it, y/n. and i'm willing to work for it."

while those words were music to your ears, you were apprehensive. he apologizes every time. and while things do change for a while, they're never permanent. and a week or two from now, you'd be back in this same situation again. was that really worth it?

"i know i don't deserve any more chances," he continues, his eyes only focused on yours. "but i promise… i promise just give me one more and you won't regret it."

your eyes shift between his. he looked a little… scared? was he really that afraid to lose you?

"i don't know, rafe," you say honestly, shifting a little. "you've hurt me so bad… i don't know if i can take you doing it one more time."

"i'm not going to," he immediately shakes his head and reaches out to take your hands in his, fiddling with your fingers and glancing down at them. "please, baby, please. just let me show you i'm the guy for you. that i can be the guy you need and want me to be."

"how?"

"you'll give me a chance?" he asks, his eyes lighting up at the idea of being given another chance to win you back. 

despite your brain screaming at you not to, your heart wins over and you nod. you couldn't help it. every part of you yearned for him. and if he was willing to show you that he really could be the guy you knew he was—the guy you fell in love with—then maybe it would be worth it.

"wear something nice," he says. "i'll come back to pick you up at seven."

—

at exactly seven on the dot, you hear rafe park his car in front of your house, and look out your bedroom window to see him dressed in skinny black slacks and a long sleeve, white button down carrying a bouquet of red roses as he walked towards your driveway and front door.

you can't help the small smile that forms on your face as you hurry to strap your heels on and look at yourself in the mirror one more time, before grabbing your purse off your vanity and heading down the stairs.

"where are you heading off to?" your mom asks when you pass by the living room, all dressed up.

"date with rafe," you reply, walking towards the front door.

your parents had never been rafe's biggest fan—they weren't exactly unaware of how often he's made you cry the last couple of months—but they also knew they couldn't stop you from dating whoever you wanted, so they never fought you on it, and you were grateful for that. it was comforting to know they'd support you no matter what happened.

taking a deep breath, you place your hand on the doorknob, and finally open the door when the bell rings.

rafe's eyes instantly widen at the sight of you, his eyes trailing down your body wrapped in a tight, short, satin red dress. "wow," he gasps. "you- you look…"

your cheeks redden at his loss of words. "you don't clean up too bad yourself, cameron."

he smiles at your use of his last name as a nickname, and holds the red roses in his hand out to you. "these are for you."

"you already got me flowers this morning, you know," you joke, taking the bouquet from him. your mom was gonna be pleased to know rafe was back to filling up all her flower vases.

"i know, but…" he trails off. "you deserve the best."

the blush on your cheeks deepen at his words. "give me a second," you turn to walk back towards the living room, and set the bouquet down on the coffee table in front of your parents. "don't wait up."

they don't even get a word in before you're walking away again to join rafe outside.

"shall we?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes, as you closed the door behind you.

"just… one more thing," a sly smile comes across his lips, as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a black blindfold.

you stare at it, your mouth agape. "you're kidding, right?"

he shrugs, "i want it to be a surprise."

you groan, but give in anyway. "fine. but if i trip in these heels because i can't see where i'm going, consider us broken up for good."

he laughs at the threat, even though a part of him was afraid you still wouldn't forgive him after tonight. "you know i won't let that happen. turn around."

you do as he says, and he ties the blindfold around your eyes, before taking your hand in his and leading you down the driveway towards his car parked up on the curb. he opens the door for you, and carefully helps you into the passenger seat, before closing the door and rounding the car to get in the driver's seat.

the second the engine comes on, your romantic taylor swift playlist plays through the car's speakers.

"you didn't," you say. he would always complain when you had aux because she was all you'd ever play.

"i guess she's not too bad," rafe shrugs, chuckling as you began singing along to the lyrics of wildest dreams.

rafe continued driving through the island for another ten or fifteen minutes, before he finally pulled the car to a stop in front of his family's beach house on the edge of figure eight, completely secluded from everything else.

he gets out of the car first, and helps you out, taking your hand in his to lead you through the house and out to the back porch.

"are you ready?" he leans in towards your ear, and goosebumps rise along your skin at his proximity.

you nod, and he reaches his hands up to the back of your head to untie the blindfold.

it takes a little while for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, a feeling of warmness fills your heart at the sight in front of you.

red rose petals were scattered in the sand of the private beach, along with fairy lights, a candlelit table for two set up in the center of it all, as acoustic instrumentals of taylor's best love songs played through the speaker situated on the porch.

"you like it?" he asked.

you turn your head to look at him. "rafe, i… it's perfect."

"that's what i was going for," he shrugs smugly, and nods his head towards the set up. "come on."

you both remove your shoes, before he takes your hand in his again and leads you down the back porch to the table in the middle of the beach.

"i can't believe you did this for me," you say, as he pulls a chair out for you to sit in.

"i'd do anything for you," he smiles, taking the seat across from you once you're seated.

—

after a three course dinner and a bottle of wine, which was all served to the both of you by a waiter that rafe hired from the country club, the night slowly came to an end, an endless amount of stars filling the night sky above you.

but while you were focused on the stars, rafe was focused on you.

"god, you're beautiful," he says, causing you to look at him now.

you chuckle, "shut up."

"no, i'm fucking serious," he replied, standing up from his seat.

you watched him carefully as he walked over to you, and held a hand out.

you glance at his hand and tilt your head up at him, "what are you doing?"

"dance with me," he says.

"you're asking me to dance?" you raise a brow at him.

"mhm," he nods. "you gonna say yes?"

"well how can i say no?" you reply, a small smile forming on your lips as you put your hand in his.

he leads you a few feet away from the table, and rests a firm hand on your waist, as you trail a hand up to his shoulder.

he locks his eyes with yours as you both begin swaying to taylor's timeless, and scans your face.

"what?"

he shakes his head, "i don't deserve you..."

"rafe…"

"but i'm gonna do everything i can to make sure i become the kind of guy who does," he cuts me off. "i want to be better, y/n. not only for you, but for myself too."

you smile, and pull him closer, your hand snaking to the back of his head.

"i'm sorry for being such an ass the last few months," he says, and you close my eyes, taking the moment in as he continues. "i know i haven't deserved all the chances you've given me, but i'm not gonna disappoint you again. i want to be the guy you think i am."

you pull away, just enough to have your eyes lock with his.

"you are that guy, rafe," you tell him, and you mean it. "you just need to let him show more."

he smiles, "you're pretty damn amazing, you know that?"

"so i've been told," you shrug jokingly.

he chuckles. "i love you, y/n."

"i love you too."

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Secretive Santa: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (8) Seasons may have changed, but some hearts still need soothed. And what better time than Christmas for some well-intentioned mischief? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Established relationship. Theve (?) Soft smut , mild angst, humour, fluff and cunning plans throughout. (w/c 7.3k)

You would never forget the look on Thor’s face as the Fiat had drawn up the loose stone drive to the cottage. The glow of his smile was visible through the windshield at 100 paces.

As he and Rogers had exited the car with a spring in their step, you were starting to think the last two days had been just what everyone had needed.

The air was crisp this morning, winter’s first biting chill stinging your cheeks.

Steve’s face was glossy and fresh with the flushed sheen of recent spa treatments. His forehead shone. He strode towards you with a nod, extending his hand to shake Loki’s with a quiet ‘howdy’ as Thor brought up the rear.

‘Do you really think they slept together?’ you’d gaped to Loki as you’d lain in bed after dinner last night, thoroughly sated with food and sex. Loki had laughed gently, making your chin bounce on his bare chest. ‘There were twelve condoms in the pack I bought to get a rise from Rogers,’ he’d replied. An eyebrow had risen as you stared vacantly. ‘How many times have we had sex, darling?’ Loki had continued.

A smirk had played at the corner of his perfect mouth, still glistening with your arousal. It was burned into your memory. The soft mischief in every line.

You had bit your lip, the look of intense concentration on your face making Loki chuckle again. ‘Full, or just oral?’ you’d replied wilfully. ‘Ten,’ Loki had mouthed, raking a hand through his hair as he arched his back. One of his legs draped over the side of the single bed. ‘There were ten in the box when they left. So either-’ ‘It’s happened, or it’s going to!’ you’d gasped. Loki had shrugged. Maybe, his silence had said - but he was still smiling. Now, you tilted your chin as Thor stood beside Steve.

The captain hooked an arm around the blonde god’s shoulder, the pep of the men’s familiar pleasantries filling the air like birdsong. Thor’s followed suit, giving each other an affectionate pat before breaking apart. “You guys ready to blow off?” Steve asked, gesturing to the Fiat.

Loki’s nose wrinkled. “I humbly petition to sit in the front passenger seat this time.” he muttered, making his suitcase disappear in a flash of green. “We can take turns,” Thor offered. A relevation.

Startled, Loki’s eyebrows rose. You looked between them, smiling as the men nodded agreement in sage trifecta.

Although you’d been lumbered driving for the next seven hours back to the Essex compound, it would be another world than the trip up had been. And besides, none of these particular Earth's Mightiest Heroes could drive stick.

“Let’s go home,” you murmured, meeting Loki’s eyes as his hand slid into yours with a squeeze. “Home,” he smiled.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. The seasons changed again. But thankfully, Loki had not.

Frost adorned trees lining Central Park were visible from the god’s bedroom window. Like cake toppers, you mused as you pulled the curtains behind a sash, dusted with icing sugar. A pair of strong hands slid around your waist, slippers nipping at your heels as he moulded his stomach against your back.

Long fingers tugged against the loose sash of your robe.

“Come back to bed,” he murmured against the muss of your morning hair. His breath was warm in the shell of your ear, the heat of his skin sinking from his bare chest through your gown.

You could feel the bulge in his loose pyjama pants pulse against your ass. “They need me,” you whined, tilting your chin to meet his pleading eyes. He knew you couldn’t resist those eyes. Christmas lights on the tree in the corner lit up the golden veins of his irises. “I need you,” he retorted. The wounded tone of his voice tugged your heartstrings.

You rolled your eyes.

Loki tutted. “Agent?” he warned playfully. Playful, but no less devastating. It made your core flush with ill-timed desire. “We don’t do that anymore.” It had become a mantra. An amber light which snuffed out behaviours that no longer had a place in your relationship. And expectation of equality, you conceded, worked both ways. “Come back to bed,” he husked again, deeper this time.

Loki’s forefinger looped around the sash of your robe, stepping back slowly. Two steps, then three. You followed, falling to his lap as he sat back on the mattress. “It’s cold outside. Rogers will understand.” You scoffed, curling the mess of his hair behind one perfectly formed ear. Whatever happened, it needed to sound believable. Just a normal mission. A normal mission. “It’s not Steve I’m worried about,” you said.

Loki frowned, urging you to continue as his fingers danced dangerously up your leg. They began to massage the curve of your ass beneath the silk. “It’s your brother – he’s been antsy all week. All month, actually. Chewed Scott out the other day for being late – even Steve was embarrassed.” Loki’s hand paused. “Will he be there? On this ‘very important mission’?” he muttered, staring at your breasts with a faraway look in his eyes. “My brother, I mean…” You swallowed, the oath of utter secrecy bubbling behind your teeth, willing itself to be broken.

You managed a half-hearted shrug. Loki’s pinched fingers slid down the opening of your robe, before raising his gaze with a wolfish glint.

“Perhaps Rogers is rubbing off on him,” he quipped, lips stretching in a smirk. You slapped his shoulder lightly, trying to stand before Loki pulled you back in. His lips traced your own, inhaling against your breath. “Or on him,” he finished smugly.

You slapped his shoulder again.

“It’s been ages since the lakes, and neither of them have said a word,” you huffed, standing and shrugging your robe to the floor.

Taking a moment to enjoy the awed slant of Loki’s brows, you turned and made your way to the small selection of clothes you kept in his rooms. “If they were a thing, we’d know by now. They barely speak to each other these days.” You unhooked a combat suit, feeling the weight of Loki’s stare on your naked ass. “Has Thor said anything to you?” you asked innocently, glancing back over your shoulder. The god’s eyes snapped from your rear to your face.

“What?” he coughed. He was hard. “Has Thor said anything to you?” you repeated, trying to hold in a satisfied smile. “About him and Steve?” Loki crossed his legs, trying to dampen the arousal pumping through his veins. “No,” he sniffed. “But he is acting particularly meat-headishness of late. I should speak to him.” “You should-” you said, pulling the suit over your shoulders and sliding the zip upwards. Loki’s crestfallen eyes lingered as your cleavage disappeared from view. “I should-” he muttered absent-mindedly as you drew closer and leant down to give him a kiss. His train of thought dissipated in the air.

You paused, feeling his breath cloud around your mouth. As much as you wanted to stay, this was important. The secrecy that surrounded Steve’s message had made that clear.

Loki kissed you. First soft, then firm. A promise.

And the warmth of it lingered as you made your reluctant way down the Tower elevators and into the crisp New York December day.

You checked the top right corner of the screen nestled in your thick gloves. Nine seventeen. Shit. The dot on the GPS moved up East 50th street. Skies had darkened, clouds threatening snow. Wreaths and lightbulb-adorned foliage hung against shop windows, festive displays catching your eye.

That jacket would look incredible on Loki, you thought fleetingly; before the shade of a skyscraper loomed above. Making a mental note to come back and get it, you paused; taking a moment at the railing. It overlooked the golden statue in Rockefeller Plaza. Even at this time in the morning, skaters made their way around the rink with various displays of aptitude. A man who reminded you very much of Colin Robertson hung stiffly onto the side as his other half skated backwards, encouraging him enthusiastically. You smiled. “Thanks for coming,” a voice murmured over your shoulder.

You clutched your chest. “Steve!” you gasped.

Ever since the lakes, the relationship with your superior had become a lot more familiar. An unexpected bonus. The captain wore a thick hat low on his brow. And sunglasses, of course. A navy blue jacket was zipped up under his chin. He looked stiff, hands jammed in his pockets. He glanced anxiously over his shoulder while you leant against the railing. “You going to tell me what this is about, now?” you said quietly.

Steve nodded curtly, clearing his throat. It fogged the air. “Seems I drew Odinson in the secretive santa and I need your advice.” You arched a brow, ‘secretive santa’ making your lip twitch with laughter which would be entirely inappropriate.

“Go on,” you mustered warily. Steve cleared his throat again, removing his sunglasses. He produced a small microfibre flannel from his pocket, beginning to polish them. “You know him better than I do, see” he mumbled, meeting your sceptical gaze. You titled your head. Steve’s cheeks were pink. And not from cold. Not just from cold, anyway.

“I don’t know about that,” you replied softly. The captain’s eyes narrowed, searching for any hint of ulterior meaning.

“You spent a lot of time together before the cabin,” you explained, seeing his face soften. “- which I appreciate, by the way. We both do.” You squeezed his hand. “I think together we can find the perfect gift – don’t you?” Steve exhaled loudly. It was relief. “Well, I did have one idea I wanted to run by you…” he smiled shyly.

Your eyebrows rose.

In response, Steve nudged his head towards a store on the other side of the plaza. A smile stretched across your face.

“Perfect!” you cried, making Steve cringe. “Keep your voice down,” he hushed, wincing as a passer by jostled his shoulder. “I don’t want that Heimdall character ruining the surprise.” You laughed playfully. “If you’re on his radar then-” you started, before thinking better of it. Thankfully, Steve was too busy putting his sunglasses on and tugging the woolly hat down to notice.

FAO Schwarz was heaving with shoppers. Crowds bustled around elaborate displays of every toy imaginable. Normal-looking businessmen and women clutched large paper bags with boxes slotted in expert precision making their way quickly past you to the entrance. Trying to fit in what they could before work, you reckoned. The superheroes of the everyday. New York’s iconic toy-store was a Christmas wonderland, wreaths adorning pillars and large glittering snowflakes hanging from tall ceilings. Paul McCartney’s chirpy vocals rang from concealed speakers, heralding the season. Steve paused beside one of the perfectly coiffured trees lining the walkway through the store, glancing shiftily over his shoulder. “Maybe you should lose the sunglasses?” you suggested. He nodded reluctantly, slipping them into his pocket. “It’s over here,” he murmured.

He was frowning lightly, concern in those famously blue eyes. His Captain face. If you weren’t acutely aware of the context, you might be forgiven for thinking that this was a super-serious mission.

But, you reminded yourself, for him...maybe it is. You decided not to make light of it.

The two of you slipped around several hordes of shoppers towards a wall at the back of the store. Rows of plush animal faces stared vacantly in immaculate lines. Steve stopped. He folded his arms, spreading his feet in a stoic stance.

“There,” he said firmly, nodding towards a modest circular display. “Oh my god,” you whispered, eyes widening.

Out the corner of your vision, you saw Steve’s chin snap towards you; the feeling of his anxious stare beating into your profile. A grin spread on your lips. “It’s perfect,” you squealed, turning to him. You gripped his shoulders, shaking him lightly. “You’re a genius. He’ll love it.” Steve blushed, looking down. He scuffed his foot on the polished floor. It squeaked. “Golly,” he muttered, smiling bashfully. “You really think?”

You nodded, meaning it with your whole heart. “Perfect.”

Loki pursed his lips. He could hear the neolithic grunting of his brother doing some manner of inane task in the kitchen up ahead. It echoed.

Apparently, Thor had not been called to whatever mission had stolen you from his bed after all.

He rounded the corner, immediately tensing. The God of Thunder stood hunched over a toaster, miniscule in one meaty hand. In the other, he had a knife jammed deep in the contraption, wiggling it around. “You should turn that off at the wall, you know-” Loki drawled. Thor looked up, smiling.

“My breakfast is entrapped, brother. There is no other way.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I thought you weren’t doing that anymore,” Thor muttered, demeanour hardening. "The rolly-eye-thing."

Loki bristled. “For some things there is no alternate or adequate lexicology to express oneself, brother.” Thor humphed, rattling the knife deeper.

A blackened pop-tart fell to the counter amid a cascade of crumbs. With silent vindication, he raised it in his grasp and shook it in Loki’s direction. A triumphant grin spread across his face as Loki slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “So?” Loki said smoothly, tilting his head. It was a loaded syllable. Thor’s brow scrunched. Loki wasn’t sure if it was the bitterness of his ill-gotten prize or the vagueness of his opening gambit which caused it. “What?” Thor crunched. Flecks of burnt fell with abandon to his scruffy beard and a white muscle vest stretched tight on his chest. It was stained with what looked like mustard, and chocolate - one hoped.

This is not that garment's first dawn, Loki thought. He sighed pointedly. “Look, we’ve been dancing around this for weeks. Your increase in short-temperedness and decrease in both affinity and hygiene has been noted.” The blonde pressed his fingers sarcastically to his chest, eyes wide. “You talk of me?” he exclaimed incredulously before chuckling, shaking his head.

Without warning, Thor released a thundering fart. It tapered to a whining toot before he spoke again. “You must be mistaken brother.” Loki didn't flinch. Not even a millimetre.

“I am not,” was Loki’s curt response. He clasped his hands on the counter-top, now marred with specks of charred pop-tart. They looked like ants. His disapproving eyes rose to meet his brother, now looking shifty. He was chewing, avoiding Loki’s analytical stare.

Thor flicked his hair back. It had a crispness to it. Some kind of resolve settled over his features, and there was a sharp glint in his eye Loki didn’t like.

“Have you told her you love her yet?” his elder brother quipped bitterly. Sarcasm seeped from him like steam. Or maybe that was the lingering stench of flatulence. “Again?” Loki tensed, resisting the bait. “That is none of your concern.”

He straightened, making space as Thor leant on the counter opposite, fist propped beneath his chin. The blonde batted his eyelashes innocently. Loki wanted to punch him. “Oh but it is, brother-” Thor smarmed, lip curling in a smirk that Loki would recognise in a mirror. “I am most concerned about it indeed.”

The two of them sat in silence, unspoken asgardian curses curling the air. “A truth for a truth?” Loki postured coldly, circling his fingertip on the counter. The question hung in the air. An old compromise last involked in their youth, in the days of the cabin-with-no-place.

It had become such a staple of breaking their stubborn stalemates that Frigga had commissioned the Asgardian Crones to weave a token.

‘To solidify the sentiment, for harmony’ she had said.

Millions of silken threads created the finest handkerchief in Asgard, an ombre of green and red which softened in silken waves to the centre; melding to one. Harmony.

On it, hand-stitched in the truest gold were the words. The only words which could provoke amnesty between the heirs. The symbol exchanged between them at times of familial discord. Whoever held it, must forfeit one admission for another or face the consequences.

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet, A truth exchanged for a truth, Loki mulled as he traced a dark vein of the marbled counter-top.

It was not an accord invoked lightly. The ceremonial handkerchief itself may be lost to places known only to few, but once uttered, the oath must be fulfilled. He followed the winding tendril to the edge before meeting his brother’s eyes. Thor snorted, slapping the hand beneath his chin to the surface. “Fine” he gruffed.

“You and Rogers-” Loki cut in, seizing the moment. He watched his brother’s brow crease, short-lived victory turning to regret. “Is he the cause of the foul mood which has plagued you these past weeks?” Thor shuffled his feet, pushing himself upright against the counter. “I see not business that is of-” he began to parrot, but Loki waved a dismissive hand. “Brother, please-” he snapped sharply. “Even adorned with our lifespans, this banal rhetoric could last us to the gates of Valhalla.” He watched as his brother’s features relented, a quiet sigh rising in his chest. Thor swallowed. “He will not speak of it,” he muttered.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Of what?” Thor’s jaw set, looking at his brother with exasperation. “Our amorous union, short-lived as it was.” A small smile played at Loki’s lips.

Vindication, he thought. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

He summoned the willpower that had become so familiar from his newly-trained approach to your relationship, reminding himself that vulnerability was to be encouraged, not exploited. Carefully, he re-adjusted himself on the stool. He made sure he looked sympathetic. “I wasn’t sure if-” “Yes, yes…” Thor mumbled dismissively, glancing around the walls. Pink had risen in his cheeks.

“Rogers asked me not to say anything. But methinks it’s all for nought now regardless.”

“So the two of you...at the cottage?” Loki probed.

Thor nodded. “It started as a ruse, a part of the plan should it be required to stay you in the correct location but-” he swallowed.

“When the moment arose, the moment took me...us, and- our kinship, such as it was, had changed somehow. The nights we spent setting things in motion for the two of you, we grew closer. I cannot place it, brother. I just…”

“That sounds familiar,” Loki said softly. Without realising it, he had reached for his brother’s hand.

Thor squeezed it, staring down as he continued. “The love of a male is not unfamiliar to either of us-” Thor said, glancing up briefly. “But to Rogers…” he trailed off. “-It is all unfamiliar.” Loki finished. His brother nodded. “At the spa...we talked about what the future could look like. Many plans were made, but-” Thor swallowed thickly. “-when we returned, things were different?” Loki murmured tentatively.

Thor nodded again.

Loki knew that fear all too well. He would be lying if he said that his heart hadn’t pounded the whole flight home, wondering if a return to reality outside of the bubble created in the cottage would return you to your senses too. The thought of losing you again had been almost too much to bear. “I know not if it is his values. His image. Whether his feelings have changed or whether the intrigue was more of an allure than reality- he has barely spoken two words of warmth since our return. And when he does speak – I find myself behaving most unbefitting my feelings. Pushing him further, like you did.” Tears welled in the blonde’s eyes.

“Or perhaps it is I, brother,” Thor continued, smiling in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. It twisted Loki’s heart. His elder brother released a mirthless chuckle of resignation before continuing, fingertip circling on the marble anxiously. “Perhaps it is I.”

In seconds, Loki stood and rounded the counter.

He drew his brother close, feeling the strength of Thor’s grip tentatively curl around his shoulders. The god’s chest heaved, shallow breaths ricocheting against Loki’s neck. He found himself pressing his brother’s head into his hold, trying to steady the silent sobs swallowed with every gulp of air.

Had they ever embraced like this? Loki didn’t think so. Not that he could recall. But, strangely, he found he didn’t care.

“It’s alright, brother” he heard himself murmur, not knowing what else to say.

Thor choked back a shuddering sigh as Loki continued to stroke his hair. He rested his chin on his brother’s head, closing his eyes. “It’s alright.”

A paper bag adorned with toy soldiers rustled by your feet below the table.

Steve had given strict instructions to keep it in your sight while he bought coffee. You peeked inside again, smiling.

Somehow, you’d managed to convince him to while away a little more time before heading back to the Tower, citing Loki’s suspicions. But really, you just wanted to spend time with him.

Ever since the lakes, Steve had softened – which wasn’t a bad thing. In some ways you felt much closer, but in others; from others – he seemed to be pulling away. “Careful, it’s hot” he quipped, nudging the wooden chair out with his foot.

He squeezed to sit at the world’s smallest table that you had commandeered in the corner of the café. You mouthed thanks, pulling the mug over. “Reminds me of the cottage,” you smiled; looking up innocently. Steve’s eyebrows peaked, before he frowned lightly. “I guess,” he muttered. Festive jazz played over the bustle of mid-morning conversation and clinking plates. The milk steamer spluttered endlessly behind the bar. You scooped a blob of cappuccino foam onto your finger, sucking it off. It was now or never. After all, it was Christmas.

“Are you alright, Cap?” you started deferentially, hoping that the softness you felt in your heart shone through. Steve looked up, blue eyes deep in thought.

“Can I trust you, Agent?” he asked warily as his gaze glanced over your shoulder. Your features softened further, tension easing. You reached across the space between you, fingers curling over his forearm. “Steve,” you whispered. “I owe you so much. So much. I care about you, and Loki does too.” Steve’s brow arched sceptically. “He does,” you smiled, squeezing his arm. The smile fell gradually as you studied his face. “You can trust me,” you said quietly. Seriously. The captain nodded, taking a deep breath. “I…” he started.

Your brow twitched, an uneasy feeling spreading under your skin as Steve readjusted his feet beneath the table. His fingernails scratched at the wood, tapping as he glanced out the window and back again. “I…” he pursed his lips, avoiding your eyes. “-fucked up,” he hissed. Your stare widened. “Steve!” you gasped. He looked at you sheepishly. “Apologies,” he muttered. Clearly, your look of abject confusion was enough to spur him on. He leant forwards, urging you to do the same. A woman stood at the next table. Both of you watched her leave. Steve turned back to you, his eyes trained on the coffee cup nestled between his palms. “Our...mutual friend. The blonde,” he said quietly. You squeezed his arm again to signal understanding. “Well...as it turns out, I enjoy his company a bunch.” Steve’s eyelashes fluttered upwards, bashful gaze swimming above pink cheeks. He bit his lip. “A bunch. You see?” “I see,” you replied gently. Steve released a wistful sigh.

He licked his lips, fingers playing with the mug handle. “Things happened at the lakes that I didn’t expect. That I never woulda...that I-” he sighed, hanging his head.

“I told him it was a mistake.” He blew out a puff of air. “What a ninny,” he chided himself under his breath. You tilted your head. It was breaking your heart. “Do you think it was a mistake?” Steve shook his head, sighing again. “No,” said quietly. “But now he won’t talk to me. Not like before– as though he’s realised it was a mistake. He’s done with ol’ chum over here. I can’t blame him. I guess it’s not a big deal for a god and whatnot but for me-” Steve swallowed, words drying up. “Trust me, I know how it feels” you whispered.

Steve’s eyes met yours. They were glassy with tears, darting from your own to the pictures hanging on the wall and back again.

“I fucked up,” he breathed again. His voice trembled on the swear.

“It’s alright,” you cooed sadly as your thumb stroked Steve’s palm. You squeezed again. "It's gonna be alright."

Loki paced back and forth across the rug in his living room.

He’d tried buzzing your apartment four times at thirty minute intervals. Each time, he had been left more enthused than the previous.

His mind was alight with the thrill of the plot.

Through an entirely subtle process of elimination over the past hours, he had deduced that there was only one member of the team you could be with on this auspicious morning. Rogers. And after his conversation with his brother – he needed the intel you had most certainly gathered – whether intentionally or no.

There was more to this ‘mission’ of yours than met the eye, of this he was certain. He was certain, because he had planted the seeds himself.

There was a knock at the door. Loki’s feet skidded back against the rug in his haste to the handle, throwing it wide and bustling you inside.

“-Loki-” you gasped while he glanced to either side of the hallway before spinning you against the wall with a ravishing kiss.

His senses came alive beneath your touch. The bright cool of your skin, the scent of coffee and spiced gingerbread clinging to your hair; an almost imperceptible tacky patch on your cheekbone where some soul had left a passing kiss. Lipbalm. Rogers.

“What have you been up to my secretive elf?” he purred against your parted lips. Your coat hung open, the avengers uniform you had donned this morning for his benefit, he was sure; on half-display.

“I...uh-” Loki smirked as your palms steadied against the wall. You were panting, face flushed from the onslaught of his affections. Fingers raked through your hair as you met his eyes, blinking several times.

“You tied your hair back,” you noted, dazed.

Loki scoffed at the attempt at subterfuge, grabbing your hand.

“Come,” he said as he pulled you towards the sofa. You landed with a soft bounce as the god took centre stage in the living room. He pressed his fingertips together, hands peaked in a triangle. It touched his lips briefly. “Brace thyself, darling” he drawled. Unbuttoning your coat, Loki felt his gaze fall down the black material tight to your arms. It clung to your chest, the zip far too low for any official business. His stare lingered on the curve of your waist, how it taunted and teased him as you shuffled back on the sprawling sofa.

“Consider me braced,” you said pointedly. He cleared his throat. “My brother,” he started, pausing for effect. You stared at him expectantly.

Loki admitted to himself that he was a little disappointed you did not seem more intrigued by the fatted bounty of gossip he was about to spill forth. But he decided to maintain the theatre it deserved regardless. “-is in love with…” he paused again, smirking mischievously- “Rogers.” Your head fell back, landing in the cushions as your hands covered your face. “Oh thank fuck for that!” you gasped, beginning to laugh despite yourself. Loki frowned. This was not the response he had expected.

Between sighs of relief, you peered through your fingers at the bemused god. He was standing with his hands on his hips, the irritation palpable. The foot began to tap.

“Come here,” you placated. Patting the cushion beside you, his face softened; but an eyebrow remained raised.

“I would have thought my most excellent investigations would yield a smidgeon more praise from you my dear,” he said with feigned annoyance as he sat. “Nonetheless, I imagine your response means welcome news?” You nodded. “Steve feels the same. At least – I think he does.” Loki’s face scrunched. “You think? Please. Rogers should be on his hands and knees thanking the norns for my brother’s affections.” It was your turn to frown. “But Steve doesn’t know how Thor feels – your brother’s been palming him off.” Loki smirked.

“Not like that,” you sighed as you fell back again against the cushions. “We have to do something Loki...they’re mad about each other. They both think the other isn’t interested for one reason or another. They just need-” “-a little nudge?” Loki purred.

You met his stare. Those beautiful eyes swirled with the warm glow of the treelights, sparking mischief in golden flecks buried in deepest blue. Shadows cast by candlelight danced in the carve of his cheekbones.

“A little nudge,” you repeated, tilting your head with a knowing smile.

“After all, it would be rude not to return the favour. Don’t you agree?” the god murmured as his fingers danced up your suit.

They fastened around the zip at your chest, pulling slowly down. In seconds, Loki had gracefully shifted and buried his face in your cleavage. Hot kisses worked against the skin, breath warming any hint of chill still lingering in your bones.

Your hands slid past his temples as he made it to your neck, fingers winding in the lengths of his ponytail before pulling it free.

“Minx,” he slurred against the curve.

You could feel the sharp of his teeth against your collarbone as he smiled. Hands sliding over his broad shoulders, you took a moment to appreciate the tight knit of the camel sweater he wore at the meat of his biceps. Camel, he’d insisted. Not beige. And in the heady afterglow of lovemaking amidst a sea of sparkling Christmas lights, a cunning plan began to form.

You made your way to the common room, gift-bag swinging.

The presents that you and Loki had procured for your team-mates sat nestled inside – one for Scott, one for Wanda.

The tradition was a fairly new one, but a highlight of the festive calendar. On Christmas Eve, before outsider guests for Tony’s annual party began to arrive- the Avengers gathered and exchanged all manner of tat and risque shit. You often wondered how much the picture on your phone of Bruce holding up the dinner-plate sized cock ring Tony had made for him would fetch on the open market. But you had decided long ago that it was priceless. “Brother!” you imitated in a deep, accented growl.

Thor spun on the common room sofa, his wary look melting to a wide smile. You ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He spun, making you squeal. A whining mash of faint tunefulness emitted from his chest as the god lowered you to the ground. Jingle Bells. “Ah, you pressed the penguin’s nose” he hummed, booping the knitted beakish blob. “He sings,” he explained, pleased with himself. “I can see that,” you said as you made your way to the tree. “But turn around – you can’t see which presents are ours...” Thor obliged, smiling as he busied himself fluffing a garland by the fireplace. "Perhaps we should invite my Penguin friend to the carol concert at Stark's festive jamboree tomorrow," he boomed across the room. You watched him, remembering the feeling of acting normally while tendrils of heartache wrapped around your insides.

"-Certainly, he can hold a tune better than I" Thor continued, chuckling to himself. A pang of sadness mellowed as you turned back to the pile beneath the tree. Scanning, you tried to look for one that could be Steve’s – but none fit the bill. “Okay I’m done,” you said casually as you stood. Thor continued fluffing the garland. You sidled over, trying to act casual. “Have you um...added yours yet?” Thor shook his head regretfully. “Having a little trouble with my assigned giftee” he muttered. His eyes flickered to yours guiltily. “There is something I wish to give them, but I am unsure it would be welcome.” A small smile played on your lips. “Something tells me any gift of yours would be welcome,” you said, watching his bottom lip roll beneath the top with a sceptical grunt. “Is it something I can help with?” you probed, “maybe a second opinion would ease your mind.” “No,” Thor mumbled. He sighed. “I fear this is something I must endeavour alone, sister.” You frowned. How the fuck did Thor manage one of these cunning plans, you wondered as Michael Buble crooned in the background. “I wished to speak to you as it happens,” he murmured. Your lips pursed. The tone of his voice, the tension in his shoulders. Flashing lights interwoven in the fireplace garland illuminated a newly crimson hue to his skin. “Did my brother...mention anything to you of late?” You snorted. “You’ll have to be more specific when it comes to Loki. He never shuts up,” you smiled, feigning ignorance. Thor chuckled. “Indeed,” he said as he picked at a ribbon. “Well then...more specifically about, me.” You shook your head. You hated lying to him, but in this case – it was for the greater good. The god nodded softly, still inspecting the ribbon between his fingers. “Good. Well. That wasn’t what I wished to speak to you about anyway.” You swallowed. Cryptic Thor was never a welcome guest at any gathering. “My brother,” he continued cautiously, eyeing you before moving his fingers to another strand of greenery hanging over the side of the mahogany mantel. “-He intends to declare his love for you this Yuletide.”

Your jaw dropped, neck craning forwards. “Oh,” was all you could manage.

The side of Thor’s mouth twitched in an apologetic smile. “I am aware that your relationship has been, what is the parlance...taken ‘back to basics’ in some respects-” “Yeah,” you mumbled. Suddenly the ribbons decorating the garland looked very interesting. You and he stood in silence, straightening Pepper’s ornamentation.

Thor cleared his throat. “Knowing you the way I do sister,” he said softly, “I thought that forearmed would be forewarned.” “It’s the other way around,” you snipped. "Forewarned is forearmed." Out the corner of your eye, you saw Thor’s face fall. “Sorry,” you added quietly. The god’s hand curled around your shoulder, pulling you to him in a brief sidehug before releasing it.

“It’s just...we agreed not to rush things,” you explained under your breath.

You knew that he knew this, but verbalisation was needed. The cogs of your mind whirled.

“We haven’t moved back in together, we just keep a few things at each others places...go on a lot of dates, we’re working on ourselves, you know? Avoiding the mistakes we made last time. Like...well, like rushing things.” Thor turned towards you, bicep leaning against the mantle-piece as he listened diligently. You could feel the track of his gaze over your face.

Unable to take it anymore, you turned to look at him. “He’s doing so well, Thor. We’re doing so well. I’m happy. Really happy,” The words sounded panicked. You hated that. Thor reached out, cupping your hand in his. “I just...I don’t want it to ruin anything,” you finished. Looking up, the god’s concerned stare was waiting like you knew it would be.

“Do you love him?” was all Thor said.

Heat rose in your cheeks.

The truth was that you did. That you always had, and probably always would. But in hindsight, those three little words had heralded the beginning of the end last time. When his rose-tinted effort to contain the smarm and arrogance had well and truly gone absent without leave.

In some ways, the old Loki had taken your love to mean your unending loyalty. Unconditionally, in the truest sense of the word. Your unquestioning support and adulation no matter his behaviour, however many times you tried to stand your ground. And while his actions these past months had gone a long way to assuage those lingering doubts – the fear that it could flare up his old habits made your blood run cold.

Seconds ticked on while Thor’s question hung in the air.

“I thought it best you have time to consider it before the moment was upon you,” he said quietly. “My apologies if I have overstepped.”

You shook your head, linking your fingers through his. Without realising, tears had begun to prick your eyes. He raised a palm to your cheek, wiping away a droplet which had spilled over the rim. “No tears, sis” he rumbled lovingly. “It’s Christmas.” You felt a weak smile grow as Thor extended his forefinger. It lingered in the air between you. He paused, raising his eyebrows.

He moved the finger slowly to the penguin’s beak.

It pressed against the jumper. Against the lumpy misshapen knob of black knit, Thor's eyes never leaving yours.

And as the squeaking whine of electronic Jingle Bells filled the air, it dissolved the scent of sadness into a waft of cinnamon candlesmoke. You and the god of Thunder began to laugh.

Loki leant against the counter of your kitchenette.

He watched as you waited for the kettle to finish boiling, staring at it intently. Something was off. Your fingertip ran around the rim of a glass teapot sitting on the side. Loki could smell the spiced chai leaves from here. “Are you alright, darling?” he ventured cautiously. You offered a weak smile as the kettle clicked off the boil. Steam billowed around your jawline as you poured.

Loki was careful not to let his face betray the nerves bubbling in his stomach. If he was honest with himself, he’d been waiting for something to crop up that would throw the fine-sailing vessel of your relationship off-course.

It’s only a matter of time until she changes her mind, he’d think with twisting sadness as he watched you sleep. With me, it’s always just a matter of time.

He absorbed the purse of your lips, the absent-minded wipe of a droplet of tea from the counter-top before you blew the steam gently. Its motion sent a wave of rich tea and spices in his direction.

Your slipper socks rustled against the tiles as you made your way over to him, still resting against the counter’s lip. You set the mug down to his side, hands sliding over his hips. They clasped behind his back at the base of his spine.

“I have to talk to you about something, and it’s not easy-” you murmured softly.

Your eyes were wide and vulnerable, a slight tremble of your lip making his heart race. The scent of your festive perfume filled his nostrils, like ginger biscuits.

“Go on,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure he could manage much more.

You swallowed thickly, fingers toying with the back of his sweater. Black, today. Loki hoped it was not an ensemble of foreshadowing. “I ran into your brother in the common room."

Loki exhaled a sigh of relief. “Oh,” he breathed, a small smile breaking. But your expression didn’t change. The god felt your fingers pull nervously against his sweater. Bad for the knit. “He um-now, don’t be mad at him-” Loki began to frown. “He uh, mentioned that you were maybe thinking about...um, saying something soon. To me.” Realisation blossomed, vines of anger and embarrassment twisting around the thought as he cursed his brother’s loose lips. He should have known. Loki swallowed, feeling his features harden but being unable to stop it.

Your gaze fell, the trace of your fingertips around his middle as you brought them together in front of you; pulling nervously at the ends.

“That devious, two-faced buffoon” Loki muttered bitterly, concerned eyes darting back to your face. “I told him that in confidence.” You looked up at him incredulously. “Well, he told you about Steve in confidence.” “That’s different,” he snipped, noting the immediate rise of your eyebrow. “It’s you.” he finished, glancing to the floor as he felt his cheeks begin to flush. “Loki…” he heard you begin softly, curling a rogue strand of hair behind his ear. He couldn’t look. “Loki,” you repeated, firmer this time. Your forefinger nudged beneath his chin, tilting his face up. He wondered if he looked as wilted as he felt. From the look in your eyes, he suspected he did.

“I understand,” he heard himself say. It was petulant. It was cold and detached in a way that scared him. The warm hit of your lips meeting his unexpectedly made his knees buckle, hands bracing against the counter-top. Your palms slid up his chest, over the tensed ropes of shoulder muscle, over the curve of his neck. Everything was in that kiss. The heat, the longing, the need. “Loki,” you breathed softly into his open mouth. “Mmm,” he mewled, eyes closed. “I love that you feel that way, I’m just…I’m scared that-” Loki opened his eyes. He saw a swirl of tears threatening the beautiful hues of your irises. There would be no tears of sadness this Christmas, he had decided. Not on his account. “Afraid, of things that may change?” he probed quietly. You nodded.

Loki sighed, cupping your jaw. He ran a thumb back and forth across your lips, moist from the kiss. “Change be not always a harbinger of doom, I hope the last few months have reassured you of that.” You nodded again. “I know that it's different now, it just...took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected...I just-not yet...” you trailed off. Loki smiled softly. The way your body was pressed against him, as close as you could be. The way your fingers gripped and grasped against each dip of muscle it encountered as though he would turn to dust if you did not.

Loki realised in that moment that if this scenario had occurred years before, he would have been insulted. He would have been childish. Enraged, perhaps, at the audacity of the woman he adored doubting him. But now, all he felt was closeness. The bravery of your admission that he felt his soul. That you trusted him again.

Words, he pondered as he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. What wounds have I inflicted on this woman with words.

Action must once more be paramount. The words can heal, he realised as he memorised the softness of your skin beneath his lips. But words can wait. “Perhaps we can agree” he began, measuring every syllable with the rise and fall of your chest against his own, “that, should you feel comfortable in doing so...you could, say it first- when it is right for you. When it is right for us.”

His voice was deep and melodic, a rumbling lullaby of devotion he willed would still your thundering heart. He hoped you could feel the love simmering in those words. He had never hoped anything more. You tilted your head into the curve of his neck, kissing the exposed skin. “-and be safe in the knowledge the sentiment will be returned, when you are ready” he added quietly.

Your hands slipped once more around his hips, pulling him tightly against you with your head buried in his neck. Loki held you like that, letting the waft perfume from your hair fill his nostrils.

I love you, he mouthed silently.

The soundless click of his tongue over mute syllables wound its way through strands of your hair.

He felt your fingers begin toying with the waistband of his trousers. A smile twitched the corner of his mouth. “Darling,” he purred as your head left his shoulder. You tilted your face to meet his gaze, alight with the comfortable joy he knew so well.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered. A smile had spread across your face that made Loki’s heart burst. The first button on his chinos popped. “Well, quite-” he smouldered playfully. Loki felt his hips rock upwards into your waiting palm, a low groan bubbling in his throat while you stroked the arousal growing beneath cotton. “You fixed the secret Santa, didn’t you?” you coaxed. Changing the subject, Loki noticed. But he let it pass. It was hardly a question.

Loki rolled his lips, pondering. “I may have ensured that my brother and Rogers drew each others names, yes.” He let out another moan as you squeezed the thick root of his cock through the chinos. “Good boy,” you hummed. It sent a shudder of need up his spine.

“How long have you been planning this?” you said, beginning to walk backwards with Loki’s sweater firmly in your grip. He chuckled, curls tapping against his jaw. “A while,” Loki smouldered. “Seeds that I have planted have sprouted most elegantly. Although there were a few pieces of the puzzle which remained unclear until the last few days.”

You paused, making the god’s stomach collide with yours. He released an exaggerated ooft.

“Final pieces of the puzzle? Like the fact they actually have feelings for each other?” you giggled. Loki shrugged non-nonchalantly. You were playing. “A minor detail,” he drawled. “Everything needed to be in place, just in case.” Your mouth hung open, stunned into silence. “It’s Christmas,” he added with mock-incredulity – as though it explained everything. “Miraculous things happen at Christmas in this realm, do they not?”

His fingers curled around your shoulders, switching your positions and lowering himself to the sofa. He widened his legs, hips flexing upwards. Fairy lights gleamed and sparked their warmth in a halo, golden spills rolling over your skin as you pulled the jumper you wore over your head. Firelight flickered, casting dancing shadows against the walls.

He would never understand the beauty of you. And perhaps, Loki surmised, he did not have to. It was his fortune to appreciate it, not question it.

A finger twirled in the air, evaporating his clothes in a seasonal golden and scarlet shimmer. Yours followed. Loki’s thighs widened further as you manoeuvred onto his lap, covering his mouth in a hungry kiss. His fingers raked through your hair, hips bucking up as he sought the sweetest harbour his body had ever known.

“Say it again,” he pleaded darkly as you slipped a hand between your bodies, guiding his throbbing cock to your entrance. Twin gasps cut the air as you seated yourself on the thick tip, slow motions rocking down into shallow moans. “Good boy,” you murmured lovingly in his ear.

Loki let his head fall back against the cushions, fingertips sinking into the soft rounds of your ass as he bottomed out. He let you work against his body, feeling your pleasure spill and slip against the taut veins of his cock. Every little gasp, every breathy groan of his name. Your god. Each slow roll of your hips met the gentle buck from a clench of his ass. Your god. He was yours, completely.

You knew that now for certain. He was sure of it. And all the while, a few floors below, his brother was wrapping a gift for Steve Rogers.

As the final strip of crinkled sellotape was placed firmly against the paper, and as the ribbon he had smuggled from the common room garland was retied- one might have been forgiven for thinking a green light glowed within it; leaking from loose edges.

Thor had frowned, doing a double take.

The package seemed to tingle in his hold. The blonde put the strange feeling down to nerves.

But as his younger brother lost himself in pleasure, spilling his seed and his devotion within the arms of his beloved; the gift had been made whole in Thor’s oblivious hands.

A gift that would change everything.

Continued in Comfort and Joy (Final)

Tags

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#the lakes #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki odinson #loki (marvel) #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x female reader smut #loki x yn #loki x reader smut #loki gif

[youcouldmakealife]

KS Fill: Gabe/Stephen; not on the list

For the prompt: I would say Gabe and Stephen’s wedding because I want that more than anything in the world, but I suspect that’s coming without my prompt? But if it’s not… 

It would come either way, probably, but this started the ball rolling.

More Gabe and Stephen, more lists. No actual wedding, but we get pretty damn adjacent.

Gabe knew the list would backfire the moment Stephen started making it. He even told Stephen as much, but Stephen just shrugged a shoulder and kept working on it. He got into it as it grew too, enjoying it so much that Gabe told himself he was probably worrying about nothing.

And maybe the list wouldn’t have been a problem if the only person he’d told about it was Gabe. Probably would have been fine even if knowledge of it extended to the Marksons and Petersens, which happened sooner rather than later.

But telling Gabe’s teammates — that was a mistake.

“A what list?” Jared asks when Stephen first mentions it.

“An anti-wedding list,” Stephen says.

Bryce sits up. “You guys aren’t getting married?”

From this angle, Gabe can’t see how withering the look Stephen gives Bryce is, but the kick Jared aims at his ankle is probably related.

“Obviously we’re getting married,” Stephen says, like he wasn’t panicking for a good few days after they got engaged, and only the potential wrath of Miriam Markson kept him from fleeing on the next flight out of Vancouver. “It’s a list of shit we don’t want at our wedding.”

“Um,” Bryce says.

“You know,” Stephen says. “The wedding traditions we’re vetoing.”

“We is such a strong word,” Gabe says.

“Unanimous approval or none at all, Gabriel,” Stephen says. "A veto only needs one."

He's right. And Gabe guesses he would know, consdiering he's the one vetoing everything.

“So wait, what exactly are you vetoing?” Jared says.

“Nobody’s wearing white,” Stephen says, starting to tick items off on his fingers. “I mean, white dress shirts are fine, obviously, but nobody’s a virgin here, we’re not doing any all in white shit. No flower girls or ring bearers. No little groom cake toppers. Fuck knows there aren’t going to be any garters involved. I don’t remember the rest off the top of my head, but I have it all written down."

“I like the little grooms,” Bryce says, sounding hurt. Gabe hasn’t seen any pictures from Bryce and Jared’s wedding, since it was very much on the down-low — and he truly wishes he could see how those two managed to put together a wedding on the sly when they couldn't even sit across from each other without Gabe figuring out they were married — but he bets there were little grooms on top of their cake. He also bets Bryce still has those little dudes hanging around somewhere.

“Can I see the list?” Jared asks. “I’m kind of curious how many our wedding had.”

“Sure,” Stephen says, with a hand wave. “I’ll email it to you when I’m finished. Have a few more items to add first.”

“Cool,” Jared says.

After Bryce and Jared leave, Gabe mentions it might not be a good idea to send Jared the list, but Stephen just scoffs.

“What’s he going to do?” Stephen says. “Wear white to my wedding? Put little grooms on his piece of cake? He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s not going to anything that actually fucks with the day, he’s not Dmitry.”

“Our wedding,” Gabe says.

“Oh come on, you already know what’s mine is yours,” Stephen says.

“You stabbed me with a chopstick over the last soup dumpling last night,” Gabe says.

“Stop saying I stabbed you,” Stephen says. “I didn’t even break the skin.”

“It hurt,” Gabe says, and Stephen takes his hand, planting an officious kiss on the back of it.

“Better?” Stephen asks.

“It was the other hand,” Gabe says, smiling when Stephen sighs dramatically before kissing it too.

“You’re really going to give Math that list?” Gabe says. “Blind trust isn’t usually your thing.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll lead to something hideous,” Stephen says. “But think of it this way: your idiot teammates are going to do something, so I may as well give them some parameters.”

“Huh,” Gabe says. “Good point.”

“I’m not exactly new to this, you know,” Stephen says.

“No, I know,” Gabe says.

At least whatever it is that’s coming, it won’t come out of the blue.

~

Gabe did not foresee this. Sure, when he gave Stevie and Dima and Bullet bachelor party planning rights he anticipated some variety of disaster, but he underestimated them, he thinks. Or overestimated them. There was some mis-estimation occurring.

He looks around. What initially looked like chaos seems oddly recognisable. Almost familiar.

It’s sort of wedding themed, which makes sense, considering the occasion, but everything’s slightly off, and not just because they’re in a venue more suited to clubbing than matrimony.

His eyes land on the big cake at the centre of everything. It looks more like the kind Gabe saw at Cup celebrations than a wedding one, decorated to look like a rink, with two little figures at centre ice. He’s too far to see the details, but he’s pretty sure they’re hockey figurines rather than grooms, and someone has decided to use the manipulable joints for, well, evil probably isn’t the right word, but maybe immaturity — Gabe’s pretty sure one of them is straddling the other. He guesses he should just be grateful no mounting is taking place, considering Dima’s probably the responsible party.

There are so many elements, and they don’t seem to fit together at all — elegant baskets of flowers that look almost painstakingly put together, surrounded by a scatter of rainbow confetti that feels like it's moonlighting from a completely different event. Some kind of crooner — Bublé? — playing, also from a completely different event. None of it seems to fit Gabe's picture of a bachelor party planned and attended by hockey players, even if the wives and girlfriends present also got involved in the planning.

It’s the guests themselves that help Gabe put it together. There was clearly a dress code, one that only Gabe and Stephen weren’t informed about, everyone all in white, neon bright under the black light. Like an item of a list come to life. Like one of many items of a list come to life.

He can see Stephen put it together a mere moment after he does, his eyes narrowing, mouth going flat. Playing at unimpressed for the — many — eyes currently on them, avidly waiting for a reaction.

“I’m going to fucking kill Jared,” Stephen says, and Gabe decides not to tell him just how proud he sounds.

“I wonder which one of the Canucks is wearing the garter,” Gabe says, and grins when Stephen forgets his audience and his composure for a moment, throwing his head back with a laugh.

#fic snippet #gabe markson #stephen petersen #jared matheson #bryce marcus #dmitry kurmazov

[bearlythere]

will not shut up about how bluey's 30 min episode gave us so much more lore and references to the real world

the writes really made so much literal and euphemistic use of the word "sign" in this episode

in chronological order! and spoilers below!!

do let me know if I missed anything out!

FRISKY AND RAD'S WEDDING!!!! in the iconic heeler house!!

bandit's bully bucky dunstan being the real estate agent selling his house

English sheepdog buying the bluey house (emigration - would be nicer if they got english voice actors to voice them though)

the bluey house was actually for sale on an Australian real estate website! and as per the time of writing this post, it's been "withdrawn from sale" - the bluey digital marketing team AMAZES ME.

I wonder which city bandit got a new job in - don't know if they'll explore that in future seasons

bluey's friend the brown dog (I'm sorry I don't know his name) having 2 mums!

winton talking about his divorced parents and the terriers' saying their mom likes winton's dad!!!

jack and his army interest! him and rusty playing army!!

the sitting in a tree, kissing thing that kids do

Jeremy the gnome

bobo being the car's name

frisky's licence plate being fr15k

the first time kids sit in the front seat of the car

police officers pulling people on the road over LMAO

rad's profile picture being him goofing around with his 2 brothers

how realistic it is trying not to lose someone you're following on the road

the butterfly from slide!! 🦋 it has a name! flappy!

everyone being afraid of the butterfly except bingo because we know she loves insects!

chilli reminiscing how she and frisky used to go to the lookout to "think" when we all knew she meant drink LOL

frisky's 3rd friend appears!

BRANDY IS PREGNANT???

the canon in d rendition as bgm

the busker being the priest??

also they got mort and maynard to come attend the wedding too!!

frisky's father is a typical surfer dude lmao

we see trixie standing amongst the girls during the bouquet toss. and then we see stripe come in to intercept the toss. does this mean that stripe and trixie are not married yet and have just been cohabitating? stripe grabs the bouquet and celebrates, but we see trixie face palm... what does this mean??

love the photo montage and the huge family photo, how it shows that you can't get everybody to be ready for the photo

AFTERPARTY

GRANDPA BOB WENT TO INDIA TO FIND HIMSELF 😭 man needed spiritual rediscovery

the busker is the music dj too!!

uh oh... stripe and trixie are fighting... perhaps it was about the bouquet toss? and we see socks playing with the cake toppers - possibly mimicking her parents actions

awww Radley quit his job so that frisky could stay in a city she loved ❤️

they brought back the music from dance mode!

NANA AND BOB FLOSSING!!!

chattermax randomly appearing 😭

bingo getting stuck in the railing again

bingo being sad because she has to move and lila won't be able to follow. which is also the moment I realised they won't be moving in the end, because of the montage at the end of daddy drop-off episode where bingo and lila grow up together and be friends "forever and ever and ever"!

the 2 English sheepdogs pushing their fluff away from their eyes to see haha

THEM SEEING WINTON'S DAD'S HOUSE WITH A POOL WHICH IS FOR SALE BECAUSE THEYRE MOVING IN WITH THE TERRIERS AND THEIR MOTHER!! THEY ALL FIT IN ONE CAR!!!

seeing the iconic bluey house empty, with spots where furniture used to be somehow makes me feel a little empty and nostalgic

the montage of them saying goodbye to their old neighbours, bandit having one last chat with pat, the girls and chilli saying goodbye to judo and her mum

Judo still has short hair!

chilli reminiscing the kitchen because bluey took her first steps there

WHO SANG THAT SONG IN THE END PLEASE RELEASE IT LUDO STUDIOS

THE SHEEPDOGS WENT BACK ON THEIR DECISION TO BUY BLUEYS HOUSE TO BUY WINTON'S DAD HOUSE

you can tell how much chilli didn't want to move as she was the first one out of the car running over to hug him when she realised bandit didn't want to sell the house anymore. and the shoulder shakes shows that she was fully sobbing too

iconic kiwi rug! loved the simplicity of the last scene, where even if there's nothing around you, as long as you're together with the people you love, eating the simplest meal, enjoying the moment, that's family.

#bear watches #bluey #bluey cartoon #the sign

[wistfulcynic]

just finished a full rewatch of OFMD season one, which i'd not done for a while, and am now deep in the shrimp emotions. Why is this show so good.

specifically i'm thinking about the beginning of 1x07 when Ed says he's thinking about leaving. On to the next adventure, etc. He says it so casually, like it's no thing at all, and it makes me wonder how that scenario might have played out.

There was a meta i read shortly after the season aired (sorry, can't remember who wrote it) which said basically the plan to leave is Ed's way of protecting himself. By that point Ed knows he's falling for Stede, they've had their almost-kiss in the moonlight, their tender bathtub moment. Ed knows, even if it's only subconsciously, that if he stays he'll just fall deeper and harder and that will leave him vulnerable in a way he's not quite ready for.

so i wonder what would've happened if he had left then. Not with Calico Jack in all the heat of fraught emotions but on his own terms before his feelings for Stede grew beyond his ability to control them. i wonder how he'd have coped with losing Stede then.

because at that point, he's got no real reason to think his feelings are reciprocated. Stede clearly likes him, says flat out that he's Ed's friend, but nothing he's said or done would lead Ed to believe it's anything more than that. And Ed, as we know, is convinced he's unlovable so of course in his mind Stede could never love him.

which means that if he'd left then he wouldn't actually have lost anything. Stede and the Revenge could be kept as a lovely memory of a brief good time in his life. He might pine a bit, maybe give himself the luxury now and then to think about what if, but i don't believe it would ever reach the point of painting cake toppers or even crying in a dressing gown. i think, honestly, that had he left then Ed would've been okay, or at least not significantly worse than he was before. Still bored, still wanting to get out of piracy, still feeling sad and lonely and unloved but at least he'd have the memory of his friend.

what eventually renders that scenario impossible--what makes him leaving on his own plausible while he could never truly have left with Calico Jack ("never left")--is that by the end of episode 7 Ed has started to have hope. He's started to think that maybe his feelings aren't one-sided. Maybe he can actually have Stede. Maybe he can actually be happy.

i've often thought (as ofc have others) that it wasn't the loss of Stede as such that brought on the kraken era. If OFMD had ended with a successful talent show and Ed and the crew deciding to be a sailing theatre troupe instead of pirates, even without Stede, Ed would've been okay. Broken hearts mend. What tipped Ed over the edge was the loss of his hope, and the better life he thought he'd found a way to have.

not quite sure where i'm going with this if i'm going anywhere, just... it's an interesting contrast and imo a quiet turning point that neatly underlines just how important this is happening really was.

#also it's the hope that kills you but ted lasso is a whole other meta #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #our flag means death meta #edward teach #ed teach #blackbeard #ofmd blackbeard #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd 1x07 #this is happening

[follows-the-bees]

I did an analysis of the meaning of Ed touching Stede's chest, hand over heart, here.

But now I wanna talk about the meaning of face touches - and Ed's outfits - across both seasons.

Bathtub Comfort

The first time Stede touches Ed's face is when Ed is seeking comfort. After he opens up about him being the Kraken, killing his dad and his plan to kill him, Stede offers a comforting shoulder squeeze and Ed deepens it by lying his head against Stede's hand. It is an intimate moment of vulnerability for both, especially Ed and he doesn't hesitate to accept it.

While Ed is wearing his Blackbeard outfit here, he is also covered in Stede's robe, like just the thought of Stede's presence can be a shield to the outside world and Ed's internal emotional struggle. And to have Stede come in and physically touch him, his face, Ed is completely comfortable in this combination of both of them, their vulnerability.

This Is Happening

In the next episode, Stede points out food in Ed's beard and when Ed can't find it, Stede asks permission to take it out. He doesn't fully reach for it until Ed gives permission (the amount of consent between these two, especially in the second season is so special to me) and leans forward (the classic Ed leans toward Stede movement that continues throughout the show.)

Ed is also not wearing his full Blackbeard outfit here, he has stripped down to just a simple purple T-shirt and pants. And we know that purple comes out as Ed's feelings for Stede deepen. So in this moment, Ed is more Ed than Blackbeard.

This is a soft, tender moment that shows the growing feelings between them. Stede's voice is as soft as his reach and touch while Ed looks at Stede so fondly, openly vulnerable.

Beach Kiss Eins

The first time Ed touches Stede's face, is during their first kiss. As soon as Stede responds, Ed moves his hand to his neck and down to his chest. And the pattern of vulnerability, closeness, and gentleness continues.

Neither of them are wearing their normal clothes here. They are wearing uniform, tan ill-fitting sacks (foreshadowing). Their first kiss is not only bare with emotional intimacy but of their identities. They aren't Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate during this moment, they are Ed and Stede, two men in love for probably the first time, sitting on a beach, the combination of land and sea.

Let's move to Season Two.

Cake Toppers

Oh, the cake toppers. Those damn cake toppers. They are the embodiment of the two of them to Ed, who caresses the wedding cake topper resembling Stede so much that he rubs some of the paint off. And just like every touch between the two of them so far, Ed lightly grazes the figure in a tentative but gentle way that shows he still has deep feelings for this man no matter how many raids, rhino horn, or self abusive behavior he tries to use to drown out his pain and the Kraken persona that he has put on like a sea monster lost in the deep dark depths of the sea.

Gif credit

Stede's Dream

In Stede's dream about their reunion, the two comically Monty Python (can we call them Monty Pyrates from now on?) run down the beach and full body collide against each other rolling to get on their sides, where Ed is the one to reach forward and touch Stede's face. This is Stede remembering how Ed did the same thing during their first kiss and he is recreating this moment in a fairytale fashion.

Their clothing is once again notable. Stede is wearing a more traditional pirate costume, earring, and has grown a beard. While we saw sword training last season between the two of them, Stede does not truly start wearing one until later in the second season. This is him trying to become who he thinks Ed would want, not the bumbling semi-pirate, but the confident, killing pirate with facial hair and more down-to-earth look. Ed is not only portrayed in his traditional garb but he has his old beard is back, he is the version that Stede first fell in love with. (Stede loves Ed as Ed though, no matter what he wears.)

Moonlight Serenade

Their first kiss under the moonlight is tentative and is a mirror of the moon scene in season one.

This is the first time that Stede touches Ed's face during kissing of his own volition. Even when he was trying to bring Ed back to life in episode three, he held his hand and pounded on his chest, over his heart, trying to shock it into fully beating to life.

He's been dreaming of Ed as touching his face again like the first kiss, but instead Stede is the one who moves his hand to Ed's face, and deepens the kiss. Because Stede is ready for this, and he wants to show Ed that he is here, he is committed to them. It is Ed who pulls away and asks to take it slow, because he is the one who has to heal in this scenario. This is his season, his season to heal, grow, and learn to reconcile all three sides of his being.

When Ed pulls back, Stede immediately responds, taking his hands off Ed to respect his wishes. And he only touches him again after gaining consent to hold his hand. Once again, we are treated to their gentleness, hesitancy, but the underlying love they have for each other is present in every cradle, fingers through hair, consent.

Instead of like the first season where they walk away in different directions, looking back at each other while trying to puzzle out what happened, they walk away together, toward the captain's cabin, still talking about their day and playfully playing off each other.

Once again they are not wearing their normal clothes, particularly, Ed is not wearing his Blackbeard outfit. He is wearing a light-colored onesie made from a potato sack as well as a cat bell. A bell he purposefully makes ring in an adorable shoulder shake to let Stede know that he is coming in for a kiss - unlike their first one, where he almost surprises Stede with it. We don't see it, but I bet Ed thought that maybe if he didn't surprise him, if he hadn't kissed him but kept talking, Stede wouldn't have left him. He probably blamed himself for that, so he made sure this time that Stede knew what was happening beforehand.

Calypso's Birthday

They are both physically injured from Ned Low's torture as well as in mental distress here. Stede is having flashbacks of his childhood and blood on his face because this is the first time he has purposely gotten blood on his hands. Ed is upset at seeing Stede take this step, thinking that he has corrupted him. But once again, they both consent to this, Stede does not even move forward or kiss Ed until Ed nods his head and then physically pulls Stede against him. This kiss is a combination of the first two. Ed's hand wraps around and on Stede's neck like the beach one, while Stede's hand snakes its way into Ed's hair when he deepens the kiss. This is the first and only time we see their bodies align and touch at more than just the contact of hands and lips.

Later on we see both of them in a different state of undress. Ed's hair is completely down, and he's once again in a t-shirt, stripped down emotionally and looking at Stede like he's the center of the world as the colors of their love - red and purple - surround them, until Ed looks directly at Stede and the burst of yellow - his lighthouse - shines bright. Stede is already shirtless at this part, his vulnerability bared skin-surface level.

Beach Kiss Zwei

And of course, we reach the finale, where In general the number of touches has escalated; they have chosen each other, chosen to give this a try. Ed emerges out of the ocean and all three themes (the Kraken, Blackbeard, and Ed) play all in a row, because he took what Pop-Pop said to heart and embraced all three of his identities to save and protect his loved ones.

One hand is on Stede's face almost the entire time they are reunited on the beach, and after the first kiss and apology, Ed moves both hands to Stede's face, using that leverage to pull him in for a kiss, holding onto him for dear life. He doesn't let go until Stede responds to his "I love you" reassuring Ed that he knows that, and Ed can drop his worry about Stede not knowing/hearing those words before that moment. Ed smiles and moves his hands down, and if they weren't in the middle of a battle, he would have wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in to align with his body, and kissed him again.

I particularly love this one because we can see the desperation, especially for Ed during this moment. He clearly doesn't want to stop touching Stede, only doing so out of necessity at the end. Stede is quiet, that calmness that Ed needs, just enjoying being in Ed's presence "breathing the same air."

This is the first time that they are wearing their full identities while kissing. Covered in blood, having just dropped weapons used to kill soldiers to get to each other, only to touch and kiss each other with softness and love but also desperation.

This is also the first time they openly embrace each other. All season, things have been slightly off while they take it slow, try to figure out their status together and separate. They stand apart, but still facing/bodies turned toward each other, only a few inches away. And they never touch in the presence of others, instead only kissing in the candlelight of the captain's cabin and under the moonlight. But now they are under the bright sun in front of The Pirate Queen and countless red shirts, two who were making fun of the letter Stede wrote Ed before Ed dispatched them. And Ed even reaches over later to put his hand on Stede's shoulder in front of Zheng, offering him comfort and saying yes babe, I see you, don't worry.

They kiss on the beach!! combining the sea and the land - the lighthouse, kraken, merman, flightless birds now grounded- they are the MERMEN.

Gif credits

Overall, the touches exchanged between Ed and Stede are all laced in emotion, vulnerable. And as their relationship progresses, these touches also evolve enough that by the end, kissing or touching each other's face no longer needs a pause and explicit consent because they are comfortable enough to know each other and their boundaries.

But there is something particular about the face touching between them. It shows a higher level of intimacy and romance that is at the heart of our mythical beings who have finally found each other and met in the middle, combining land and sea.

I didn't include the touches previous to the bathtub, like Ed hugging Stede after the lighthouse fuckery, or during the party, first moon scene, because I wanted to focus on the face touching primarily since it offers more depth to their relationship. I did this from memory, so I apologize if I missed any.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death s2 spoilers #stede bonnet #ofmd stede #ofmd edward teach #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd ed x stede #ed x stede #ed teach #ofmd season two meta analysis #ofmd meta #meta analysis #touch is Ed's love language #i think Stede's is words of affirmation #with touch being second

[houseofperfecttaste]

That's My Girl, My Dirty Little Girl

WARNINGS: smut, degradation kink, violence?, drugs

"Damn I could just eat you up." Rafe licked his lips hungrily as he walked into your room seeing you dressed in tight shorts and a tight blue crop top. "We don't have time baby, we gotta get to Tops' party." You patted his chest as you walked by him to slip your shoes on. "But you look so fucking hot." He whined cutely making you giggle. "After the party, you can do whatever you want to me." You whispered seductively against his lips giving him a peck before heading downstairs to his truck. "I'm going to fucking ruin you later." He winked holding the door for you.

Rafe had his hand on your thigh while he drove to Toppers squeezing it every so often. "I love you." You kissed his cheek grabbing your dab pen out of your pocket and taking a few hits of it. "I love you more baby." His million-dollar smile appeared on his face. You guys arrived at the party and he opened the car door for you helping you out. "I'm gonna go find Sarah I'll see you later. Don't do anything stupid." You chuckled, the high hitting you and you kissed him before heading into the house to find his sister. "Y/N!" You heard Sarah's voice call your name and you turned to see her running towards you her arms wrapping around you and engulfing you in a hug.

"You wanna go smoke with Kie?"

""Do you even have to ask?" You laughed and she grabbed your arm leading you out to where Kie was sitting. You sat across from Kie as she passed you the blunt. "You look hot as always." Kie complimented. "Same to you." She was wearing jean shorts with a red top with her hair down. All of you smoked two blunts completely meaning that all three of you were out of this goddamn world.

"You had cake all over your face!" You laughed hysterically tears streaming down your face from how hard you were laughing. You wiped your tears away calming yourself down before standing up. "I'm going to go grab a coke does anyone want anything?" They shook their head no so you left to the kitchen to get a drink in hopes to cure your cotton mouth. "Hi, beautiful. What are you doing here alone?" You hear an unrecognizable question and you don't even bother saying anything.

"I'm talking to you." You roll your eyes finding it slightly funny that he thinks he's entitled to an answer. You still ignore him as you finish filling your cup with water with the fridge. You bring it up to your lips take a big sip and look around hoping to find your boyfriend. "Hey." He said in a stern voice grabbing my arm and spinning me around. "Don't fucking touch me." You said yanking your arm out of his grasp taking a step back. "I was talking to you." "I know. I didn't want to talk to you." You chuckled shaking your head and turning back around to go to the backyard.

"Dude. Rafe. Rafe." Topper tried to interrupt Rafes story repeating his words until he did looking past Rafes left shoulder watching the interaction between some guy and Y/N. "What bro?" He rolled his eyes annoyed at the interruption and when he noticed Toppers' eyes going past him he looked over his shoulder just in time to see you punch some random guy in the face. "Oh shit." Kelce and Topper said at the same time Kelce wiped his nose not being totally surprised you punched some guy and slightly proud of you. "That's my girl." Rafe said smiling.

Rafe headed over standing in front of the guy with a proud smirk on his face looking between you and the guy. "What'd you do asshole?" He asked but got no answer. "He grabbed my ass." Y/N looked over at Rafe knowing the guy was going to receive another punch. "Stupid move jackass." He did in fact send another punch to the guy's face. Rafe turned around and grabbed your hand leading you out of the party.

"It was so hot seeing you defend yourself." Rafe pushed you up against his truck his hands on your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. "Wanna go back to my house and fuck me?" You asked giving him your doe eyes and he tilted his head back closing his eyes and groaning quietly. "Fuck yes. Get in the truck baby." Rafe opened the door for her giving her a hot kiss before helping her in. He gently closed the door jogging to the other side of the truck and getting in quickly. He looked over at his beautiful passenger princess placing his hand on your inner thigh inching it closer to your pussy.

"You're so gorgeous." Rafe smiled at you as he stopped at a red light his hand going underneath your pants cupping your pussy. "You're so hot." You gasped as one of his fingers slipped inside of you. "Thank you, baby." He entered another finger inside of you pumping them in and out curling them to hit your g-spot.

"Rafe." You moaned spreading your legs more. "You like that baby?" A teasing smirk on his face as he started rubbing your clit with his thumb. "Yes, baby." You whimpered your back arching against the seat. Rafe continued his teasing all the way back to your house. When you arrived he quickly got out of his truck swinging your door open unbuckling you and picking you up in his arms bridal style. You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck. He carried you all the way to your room throwing you down on your bed closing your door and locking it.

Rafe walked over to you pulling your pants down as you remove your top leaving you in your underwear. Rafe moved your panties to the side his tongue flicking your clit up and down making you grab his hair making him moan into your pussy. You felt his warm tongue slip inside your hole his nose brushing lightly against your clit. "Holy shit baby." You moaned your hips slowly rolling against his face. "Yeah that's it you little slut ride my face." He held you firmly against his face not wanting you to go anywhere.

You moved your hips faster and his lips attached to your clit sucking it and flicking it at the same time. Your body was shaking at the pleasure as you felt the pleasure engulf you. "I'-I'm going to cum!" You screamed and squirmed but he tightened his grip on your thighs. You accepted your fate and relaxed your muscles enjoying the moment and cumming all over his face. He moaned happily lapping up all your cum not leaving a drop.

"Thank you, daddy." He smiled proudly he loved that you were his good girl. "Such a good girl. My good girl." His words made you even hornier if that was possible and you pulled him down for a kiss moaning at the taste of yourself. "Hm, I taste so good." You smiled innocently up at him driving him fucking wild.

"Don't give me that fucking innocent look. You're anything but. What are you, baby?" He asked raising an eyebrow the look on his face showing that he was loving this. "I'm your good girl. "That's my girl, my dirty little girl." He kissed down your neck leaving marks and you reached your hands down unbuttoning his cargos and he pulled away quickly to undress himself your eyes locked on his hard cock.

"Can I please have your cock daddy?" You figured since you asked nicely he would give it to you. "Don't be my impatient little slut." He wrapped his hand around your throat your breathing getting heavier when seeing the look on his face. He got an idea. A torturous idea. He reached over to his pants grabbing the belt from them. Your eyes widen thinking he was going to spank you with it but he grabbed your eyes tying your hands around your bedpost with his belt.

"See what happens when you're impatient?" He moved between your legs leaning down to suck on your cleavage leaving hickeys all over you. "I'm sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl." You whimpered wishing you could feel him. "If not I'll have to punish you. Do you wanna be punished?" You shook your head. "No!" He smiled grabbing his cock and rubbing it against your pussy making you crave the feeling of it inside your tight pussy.

"Does my pretty girl want my cock?" He lined up with your pussy waiting for your response. "Yes please, daddy." The answer satisfied him and he inched into your pussy hissing at your tightness. "Please destroy me with your cock." You begged wanting to lift your legs higher but knowing he'll punish you if you do. "As you wish." He grabbed your legs placing them on his shoulders slamming into your pussy.

"Daddy! Fuck!" He grabbed the headboard making it so your knees were against your chest and your mouth was hanging open mumbling words not being able to describe the pleasure. "Your tight little hole feels so good." "Your huge fat cock feels so good inside of my stomach." He reached down starting to rub your clit and you moaned loudly the warm feeling filling your stomach. Rafe edged you multiple times wanting to see if he could break you but you held in your cum like a good girl even though it was the hardest thing you've ever had to do. Him moaning and whispering dirty words in your ear made you want to explode all over his cock.

"Cum for me sweetie. Been so good for me." You clenched around him and screamed as you started cumming all over his cock coating it in white. He moaned and gripped your hips as he spilled his seed inside of you. He stayed inside of you not wanting his cum to drip out. "I love you, Rafe." "I love you too baby." He ran his hand through your hair kissing you softly.

#rafe smut #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Christmas

Gender neutral

- order 66 | shorts | NRC students

Note: Merry Christmas!!

“Hey, Prefect, C’mere real quick I wanna give you something. Merry Christmas!~ Look what I got you. Huh? No, I picked this out all by myself. You underestimate me sometimes. Anyway, where’s my gift? You don’t have one? Seriously, you’re so unprepared… and rude. How about instead you do me a little favor.”

It’s a small pedant with a red gem and golden lining. It looks like it could be a keychain or a phone charm or some sort. When you look closer at the back of it , you could see the name Ace Trappola and your own engraved.

- Ace Trappola

“Um Prefect. Sorry to stop you so suddenly you see I… Merry Christmas! I wanted to show my appreciation for you since you’re been a reallygreatfriendandtobehonestIdidn’tknowwhattogetyousoIjustgotaring—. Ah… Sorry I’m just a bit nervous. Oh don’t worry about getting me a gift. A-are you sure? Well there’s one thing I want. Could you give me a kiss?”

It’s a silver ring with a blue gem in the shape of a small star illuminated light. Oddly enough, it fit your finger perfectly. How did he know your ring size?

- Deuce Spade

“Hi hi! I’ve brought a gift for my favorite freshman~. Open it! Here and right now! Heheh it’s cute right? I bought us a matching pair. When we click it together then it’s a heart. Super cute! I saw it on MagiCam and I’ve been dying to match with somebody. But I wanted it to be someone special like you! So, what about my gift? You don’t have a gift? Hm that’s alright, you know all I want for Christmas is you… Okay, okay sorry! But for real, let’s take some pics together. That’ll be my gift.”

It's a really cute Lego necklace! The one that connected with another to form a cute little heart. It’s popular on MagiCam for its simple yet adorable concept (way over priced too).

- Cater Diamond

“Wow it’s pretty cold, isn’t it? Okay I’ll quit with the small talk. Merry Christmas, enjoy! My younger siblings helped make it so sorry if it’s a lil messy. The toppers? Oh those were supposed to be us. Honestly I thought it was just some random clay blobs my sister put on top. Oh I don’t expect a gift back. I just wanted to repay you for helping Riddle. W-well, if there’s one thing I wanted it would be for you to come visit my family’s bakery.”

It’s a small cake. The colors seemed to be added at random making it colorful. The frosting job was done by experienced hands and the most noticeable thing was the two cake toppers. They stood close to each other, holding hands.

- Trey Clover

“Good day. I’ve got something for you for the holidays. Merry Christmas, enjoy. In truth I wasn’t sure what to get you. It’s nothing special but… Thank you. You’ve changed a lot in my day to day life and everything has only gotten better. …I hope to be someone w-who is worthy of you… Oh no, that was nothing.”

It was a fountain pen. You could tell it was well crafted and meant to be used professionally. It had a red ribbon around it and came with various inks in different colors.

- Riddle Rosehearts

“Good morning. Um… I got this for you for the holidays and such. I know it’s not a lot but I at the very least wanted to give you something. I thought you might want this since you seem so amused by my wolf form… W-what? You’re naming it after me? You’re honestly… Nevermind that, you don’t need to get me anything. Your time alone is enough.”

It was a cute little plushie of a wolf. It didn’t look like Jack at all, a bit disappointed. It was actually quite large and squishy. I wonder where he bought such a well made plush?

- Jack Howl

“Ah man… I can’t believe I’m doing this. You better be grateful or I’ll take it right back. Here, I’m supposed to say Merry Christmas or something I think. It’s actually really irritating to give anything of mine away, well technically Leona paid for this since I took some of his money— whatever. You seriously can’t tell? It’s a survival guide for all your teachers and the tricky students. I worked real hard on this. But it’s not for free, hand over the payment. You have no gift? I’m not leaving empty handed or on an empty stomach. You’re taking me out to a donut shop or something, okay?”

A simple guide of the staff at school. Mostly just your teachers and how to deal with them. There’s also tips for dealing with housewardens. Impressive…

- Ruggie Bucchi

“There you are. It was a pain to find you. I can never find you when I actually need you. Merry Christmas, I don’t really care to celebrate but still. Don’t act like I’m incapable of being a good person. I don’t see why I wouldn’t get you a present. Hm? I’m Leona Kingscholar, do you really think I’d get you something cheap? Appreciate it, herbivore. I don’t really care if you have something for me or not. H-hey, let go of me. You don’t need to hug me.”

It was real gold. Small hoop earrings with hearts engraved into it. Along with it was a thick jacket. You’ve seen the brand before, most of its products cost up to 400,000 madol and higher?!

- Leona Kingscholar

“Oi, I’m right here. Don’t try to just act like I don’t exist. You’re so cute when you give me the cold shoulder but this is serious talk… MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Hahahahah! Here, take it. It’s not like I planted a super lethal device in there that’ll hurt ya. It’s just a pair of shoes. Those ones you got now are awfully beat up. Honestly, I think you deserve some new laces too. Huh? You don’t got a gift for me? That’s unfortunate, and rude. Those shoes costed two fins and a gill. If you let me squeeze ya real tight I’ll consider it even.”

A nice pair of shoes. It even came with the receipt. It wasn’t wallet breaking but more than you could ever afford. But for the quality, it was an absolute steal. Floyd has always had good taste in shoes.

- Floyd Leech

“Ah, there you are. You could already guess why I was looking for you. I’ve brought a gift for the holidays. It’s only good manners to bring gifts to the ones I appreciate. Do you like it? I grew it myself. It looks an awful lot like the poisonous flower Mountain Laurel but worry not. It’s only a look alike I mistakenly planted. They do smell quite lovely, don’t they? Oh, you don’t have a gift in return. I supposed that is to only be expected. No matter, how about you do me a favor instead?”

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers. It was light pink with a very faint but lovely fragrance. They seemed to be healthy and growing well, before it was plucked.

- Jade Leech

“Oh, Prefect. I’ve been looking for you all across campus. Th-This may be a bit bold of me but would you like to have dinner with me? All expenses will be paid by me. It's my gift to you. What was that? Y-yes, call it a date if you want. Oh but I have one thing for you. I know it’s rather pathetic but it has its own charm. Thank you, I used to make these a lot as a kid. My mother loved them. B-but anyways it’s at Mostro Lounge at 8 PM tomorrow.”

(After saying his goodbyes and walking away, Azul proceeds to hop up and down and spin around out of pure happiness and joy.)

Besides the invitation to dinner, he gave you a small bottle full with sand and seashells. Each shell was a different color, he seemed to pick them out very meticulously.

- Azul Ashengrotto

“There you are. Happy holidays. I-I’m not awkward. Actions mean more than words, don’t they? Sorry if it’s not really what you wanted. I just figured you might need it. No need to thank me. I don’t really celebrate Christmas actually. I spend more time picking up Kalim’s wrapping paper than anything. Don’t laugh… You’ll do me a favor? I’ll save that for later I suppose. I’ll keep you to that.”

He got you a set of culinary tools. Forks, knives, spoons, pots, and pans. It was a bit heavy but you never realized how much you actually might need these.

- Jamil Viper

“Merry Christmas!~ Are you having a good time? I hope you get lots of presents and a lot of hugs. As for me, I got you something. I know I should’ve gotten you something better but Jamil insisted that you would like something less “extreme” in his words. Oh really? Well I was actually gonna give you a bunch of gold jewelry but if this makes you happier then okay!! I know you don’t have a gift. I know what you could give me though. Hehe! It doesn’t count if you don’t hug me back.”

It was a turban very similar to Kalim’s. It had more of a floral design. You’ve never seen anything like it. It was most likely a custom design he commissioned.

- Kalim Al-Asim

“Prefect, wait up! I can’t really hide it. Merry Christmas. Be careful, it’s a bit heavy. Actually, I’ll just hold it for you. Whaddya mean? I’m always nice. My bad if I get worked up bunch. I probably needs to work on my temper. I’m actually never mad at you. It’s okay, it’s not like it’s anything special. It’s just some apples from my family farm since I didn’t have anything nice to give. Heheh, thank you. I’m sure mah meemaw and peepaw will be happy ta hear!”

A small bin full of apples. There’s a container at the top of the mountain of apples with slices cut into the classic bunnies. How cute!

- Epel Felmier

“Oh, Trickster! Please spare a moment of your time. Merry Christmas, it would be my first Christmas with you and your first Christmas away from your home world. I give you my blessings and gifts. Please, take this. It’s a good luck charm. It’s quite the symbolic piece. I’ll always be with you, love.”

It’s a charm with words written in an unknown language. You could only guess where it came from and yet it gives a sense of familiarity. On the back, you noticed a piece of paper with writing. It seemed to be a poem written with great passion and endearment.

- Rook Hunt

“I found you, Potato. I can never send to find you when I actually need to. Yes, happy holidays to you too. This is what I’ve got for you. I’m always working towards a perfect serum and I believe I found just that. Your skin has been without a glow, almost as if you wash it with a plain bar of soap… I’m sure this will fix it. As well as the regular face wash and cream, it works on both dry and oily skin, What is it made of? You don’t need to know. Use it daily and you’ll start to see results. Now, what did you get me? Nothing. That just won’t do. I suppose the only thing you could offer to me is your service. Come with me Potato, you and I will spend lots of time together.”

The original Vil Schoenheit skin care set. Epel and Rook have the same set but you have the newest formula Vil has created.

- Vil Schoenheit

“Ah! There, I finally found you! Isn’t this exciting? Christmas is especially fun this year because of you! So I’ve got you a gift, here you go. What is it? Well it’s everything I suppose! Smoke detector, alarm clock, carbon monoxide detector, security camera, and a night light if you’re afraid of the dark. It runs on battery, if it runs out then just come to Ignihyde! Don’t feel bad, I don’t want a gift anyway. The best thing about Christmas is giving to others!”

An alarm for almost everything. Did Ortho make this or was it something used at STYX? Either way, you’re grateful.

- Ortho Shroud

“Oh my god… it’s almost like you were avoiding me on purpose. I looked all across campus like a maniac. Um, I have a Christmas gift for you. I know you probably won’t like it anyway but enjoy I guess… I bought you one since you seemed so interested in mine. I even bought a few games for you so we can co-op together. I’ve never spent so much money on a Christmas gift before. I kinda want it back so maybe it’s best I leave before I take it back— Eh?! Why are you hugging me?”

It was a console recently released. Idia brought it with him when he would attend classes in person which sparkled your interest. He played various games and bought you a copy of those along with the console. He just can’t keep his hands off those video games.

- Idia Shroud

“Hmph, Christmas already? I have a gift for you, of course. You are one of my closest friends. What is you ask? It’s a pastry well known in Briar Valley. They say this was the Thorn Fairy’s favorite food. It’s not too difficult to make. I used to make it with my family’s years ago. Now, what about me? Hm…? Have you no manners?! Oh, I apologise for the outburst. I understand your situation. No gift is necessary.”

It’s a medium sized pastry. You could see the filling gushing out with the fruit decorated at the sides, some fruit was cut into the shape of hearts, stars, and little lightning bolts.

— Sebek Zigvolt

“Good morning. I guess it’s not morning anymore but nonetheless— Merry Christmas. I got you something. It’s nothing special but I saw it at the store and I thought of you. It’s quite cute isn’t it? What’s that? I don’t need to get a gift back. It’s better to give than to receive in my opinion.”

It was a throw blanket with a pattern of stars and bells. It gave the vibe of a childhood fairytale story.

- Silver

“Merry Christmas! Sorry, it’s always fun to scare you like that. I’m actually quite the Santa believer. He’s a really nice guy for giving all those gifts to all the kids. I was friends with him years ago. That was a joke, of course. I’m not Santa but I’ve brought you a gift. Ta-da! I got Malleus one and he’s been all over it. It’s simple, just take care of it like a real pet. They die real easily but I believe in you. Huh? You don’t have a present for me. Waaahh… You’ve hurt my feelings. Heh, it doesn’t matter much to me. You still have time to make it up to me,

The cutest tamagotchi! It’s the same brand of Malleus’ with a different design for the shell. It really is adorable, you can see why Malleus is so charmed by it.

— Lilia Vanrouge

“December 25th, the holiday you would call Christmas. It’s customary to buy gifts for one another as a sign of care, as I've been told. I’ve brought something for you. Do you like it? You look quite beautiful with it on. It is a bit sharp so be careful. Human skin is so fragile. Oh… You don’t have a gift for me. No, that’s alright. Wait, you’ll take me out to dinner? That's a rather bold thing to ask. Human courtmanship, correct. Heh, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

(He teleports back to Diasomnia and buries his face into his pillow and kicks his feet causing the whole dorm to shake like an earthquake.)

A necklace with a dragon of some sort hanging off of the silver chain. It was well crafted. You could bet Malleus loves it because it looks like a gargoyle,

- Malleus Draconia

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #epel felmier x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #ortho shroud #idia shroud x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

In general when it comes to things that were apparently cut from Ed and Stede's scenes in s2, I often feel that I would've agreed with the decision to cut them out even if it weren't for the episodes getting cut down the way they were. A prime example is the bts photo we have of a take where Ed made his bride cake topper push over Stede's and knock it around a bit; while his anger is 100% understandable, keeping that in would've undercut the eternally gentle love Ed has for Stede. A kiss during the mermaid scene is along the same lines for me; the fact that the scene cuts before Ed can touch or kiss Stede makes their real kiss more impactful. I don't mourn that Ed tenderly touching Stede's face underwater isn't in the final cut.

However I think Stede asking if he can call Ed his boyfriend and Ed saying "actually I fucking love it" is canon to me. I wish it had stayed in the final cut. It's so important to me actually that they finally feel able to define their relationship on their own terms and it feels so easy and joyful for both of them.

#ofmd #our flag means death

[stevebcks]

Okay so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about episode three and especially Ed’s plotline in it (and the final scene of course), so here’s a not so short messy analysis of what I’ve been thinking.

MAJOR SPOILERS JUST IN CASE…

As a short background, we start with Ed almost dead after he has basically been begging the rest of the crew to kill him. First Izzy, when he gives him the gun, then the rest of them when he sails them into a storm, trying to get them and himself killed, but instead still getting what he wanted when they turn against him. We get our final hint at how this is what he always wanted when he says “Finally.” as Jim lifts the cannonball.

And we start with Ed now in this purgatory state. I would assume this entire place is created by Ed since it is so deeply connected to him. And we learn that he also creates Hornigold as a representation of himself, of the subconscious parts of himself talking to him, and he hates this guy deeply.

This place puts the cards on the table for Ed.

“So if you hate me and I am you, then…”

“I hate myself.”

He gets to understand the hate he feels for this guy is really what he feels for himself. But it’s not only that, we see the reaction he has when he first sees Hornigold. He fears himself, what he is capable of doing to others, disgusted by the stories of what Hornigold has done (like Felix’s death) in the place of what he has done.

Everything Hornigold says, is really just his most hidden inner thoughts coming to the surface.

“You’re not very good with people, are you, Jeff?” His biggest fear, the one he has only ever been able to admit to Stede is displayed right there for him. How he believes every bad thing he has ever done is the reason he is unlovable, why he doesn’t have any friends.

“Maybe you wanna strangle me like you did your old dad.”

“How the fuck did you know that?”

“Grown man covered in tattoos. Ay? With daddy issues.”

“I never told anyone about that.”

“But you did, though, didn’t you? And he left you.”

“Fuck you.”

“And it all boils down to this. You’re afraid you are unlovable.”

Not only that but he believes that is also the reason Stede leaves him. Stede leaving puts salt in a wound he was only starting to heal. He once again believes he is inherently an evil person, unworthy of anyone but even less, of Stede.

“You gotta move on, man... or you blow your brains out.” But to some degree, he knows what he has to do in order to continue, he knows that if he really wants to live, to truly live, he needs to forgive himself of the past things he has done. It’s either that or… or what he did which is getting himself killed.

His choice is final (or so he believes…) when he is on the edge of the cliff. Hornigold, or really himself, has tied the rock to his waist and is ready to throw it. And as he said it with the pros and cons list, “I don’t think anyone’s waiting for me.” so there really is no point for him to go back.

“I’m not lovable.”

“And you’re scared to do anything about it. But old Hornigold, he ain’t scared.”

Ed knows, he knows "doing anything about it" is going back to life, face what he has done, fighting for Stede and for the person he wants to be. But his subconscious, his fear, is stronger.

“You’ve made your choice.” Hell, not only is this admitted by Hornigold, we literally see him at the beginning of episode two throwing himself, or really his little cake topper, to the water from the window. And Hornigold, or really his subconscious, throws the rock.

Then Stede finds him.

And when Stede finds him all it takes is for him to remove the towel from his face for him to open his eyes as he sinks in the water.

Him feeling Stede’s presence sparks something in him in this purgatory. And he starts fighting against the rope that he put himself in. But this is a world he has created so he still has control over it, and subconsciously, he still believes he is unlovable, unworthy, he is still not sure he deserves to be untied.

And then Stede starts asking HIM for forgiveness, and he fights and he fights, and he wants this so badly that in the real world he starts fighting too, tapping his fingers against the wood and begging Stede to keep talking, to keep leading the way with his voice. And he does.

As he takes Ed’s hand, he literally also shines a light and illuminates the surface. In the midst of this world of self-hatred, there is the voice of a person who, seeing past everything, loves him.

And the rope unties itself, in this moment his whole self fully believes that he is worthy of love, that he deserves this and he deserves Stede and that he deserves to live. This is Ed allowing himself to have this.

The flashbacks start, Ed remembers these moments and sees what he can still have, thinks “Maybe someone IS waiting for me.” as Stede keeps begging him to wake up.

And then, through the light, he sees merman Stede. And oh, how important this is. He has been seeing Hornigold, the person he hated the most in life, during all his time in purgatory, but now, now the reflection of his subconscious becomes the person he loves the most. Stede, Stede as a sea creature coming to save him. Stede, as a reflection of Ed’s subconscious telling himself, you are worthy of this, you are lovable, and you can love yourself.

The kraken, this fearful sea monster, is saved by the merman.

Stede is finally right there, and when they are finally face to face, Ed reaches for a kiss, and in that moment, he opens his eyes.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #stede bonnet #edward teach #ofmd season 2 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ed x stede #taika waititi #rhys darby #i'm sorry if this is kinda dumb i really had to let my thoughts out #hope this even makes sense lol

[attractive-nuisance-esq]

Ed’s journey this season is going to perfectly mirror addiction and recovery, and I am so fucking here for it. Watching these first three episodes of S2 was like watching a highly dramatized AU of my own descent into rock bottom (except everyone was dressed wayyyyyy cooler than I ever was), so I have a lot of thoughts, reactions, and insights that I want to share with other fans. I’m sure many of us who have struggled with our mental health connected with Ed in these episodes, but I think addiction is the most appropriate lens through which to view him because addicts (more often than people who struggle with other mental illnesses) so wholly destroy their own lives and utterly devastate those of their loved ones. I want to share - from the perspective of someone who has steered her own ship straight into a storm and woke up alone to face some very hard choices - what is going on with Ed at the start of this season and what I think is coming.

Let me start by saying that Ed isn’t literally addicted to any one thing, despite his heavy use of drugs and alcohol, but his goal is the same as that of all addicts: escape. He does not want to sit with the pain of Stede leaving him on an immediate, surface level; on a deeper, more habitual level, he doesn’t want to sit with the pain of his own self-loathing. Of course the two are related: the former brings the latter to a head. Stede abandoning him dredges up and brightly illuminates all of his insecurities, and now Ed has to run. Get out. Escape. Don’t think about it. So he is fighting, stealing, drinking, snorting, shooting, killing - whatever it takes to not think about it.

“Demon? I’m the fuckin’ devil.” People in recovery often talk about addiction as if it were a separate, sentient monster living within them. Ed taking on the mantle of demon - a creature known specifically for possession, for removing the host’s free will - is intentional. So is his insistence that he’s not just any demon but the demon. The worst there is. (More on that when we get to The Innkeeper.)

Izzy’s confrontation of Ed in the captain’s cabin and then on deck is a form of intervention. Izzy is trying to help Ed, but of course this goes terribly for him and for Ed because interventions (I cannot stress this enough) are maybe the worst thing you could do to an addict. All addicts know things are bad, but they cannot be pushed to change one single second before they’re ready. Ed knows things are bad. He’s well-aware of how he’s spending his time, how his crew feels about him, how disappointed Izzy is. Being confronted with all of those truths by Izzy was always only going to make him do two things: 1) dig further into his unhealthy coping mechanisms, never mind that they don’t have nearly the effect that they used to; and 2) lash out at the person who forced him to think about it. Izzy lost his leg the moment he stepped into Ed’s cabin.

The impossible bird. You guys remember the song Chandelier by Sia? The one about her addiction to alcohol? The whole thing may as well come right out of Ed’s mouth at the end of that first episode, because that experience is exactly what he’s trying to convey to Frenchie. Nevermind that Frenchie has the temerity to tell him the bird can’t exist, that it has to come down sometime, that flying forever isn’t sustainable. The bird can come down on its own terms, or crash… but Frenchie’s definitely not going to say that much. Still, “that sounds like something that can’t exist” hits Ed, and leads us to the next episode.

Now we’ve got Ed forlorn, heartbroken, almost catatonic while playing with his cake toppers. We don’t actually see him crying in the opening of the episode, which is the point. He’s done crying now. The impossible bird can’t exist, and Ed has already resigned himself to this. He’s decided to die. The only sure-fire permanent way to not think about it.

When next we see Ed, he seems to be doing better, but this is a huge red flag for anyone who knows to look. He’s giving away his responsibility to Frenchie; he’s cleaning the cabin for the closure. He knows the end is coming fast, and the relief that knowledge brings him leaves him weirdly at peace. It is he eeriest part of these episodes, IMO.

Then he goes to find his first mate, the person who knows him better than anyone else in the world, the man he just fucking shot and ordered killed. Ed needs his low opinion of himself validated, and of course he thinks he’ll get it from Izzy after everything he’s done to him. He wants the one person who has stuck with him through everything to confirm that he’s now irretrievably broken and no longer worthy of his love. Ed wants someone to tell him that he’s right: he should die.

He doesn’t get that from Izzy. Interestingly, Izzy doesn’t tell him he should die. He says “Clean up your own mess.” Izzy has learned the lesson now that Ed isn’t ready to get better and that he can’t make him be ready. (This post isn’t about Izzy, but hoo boy - I have big feels about that man.)

Ed has been indulging in various forms of self-destruction in order to not feel his feelings, and steering the ship into the storm is his worst indulgence yet. This is the worst of his crimes - not beheading or arson or a red wedding. It’s when he tries to bring down everyone who has ever loved him into his misery, into believing what he believes. The audience generally (and Ed’s audience of Stede specifically) can forgive him for hurting strangers and for the non-specific mayhem whose victims we’ve never met; but it is much less certain that anyone will forgive him for hurting the only family he’s ever known.

The storm itself is the perfect metaphor for Ed’s attempt on his and, incidentally, everyone else’s lives. One of the most common metaphors used by friends and family members of addicts is that of a hurricane: that their addicted loved-ones tend to destroy everything they touch, anyone who was foolish or brave enough to stick around. And, like hurricanes, addicts aren’t malicious. Ed’s primary goal here is to get himself killed, not to kill everyone else. He wants the ship to go down so his death is certain. His firing a cannonball into the mast and asking Jim and Archie to fight to the death isn’t malice: it’s utter and complete nihilism. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing and no one. The end is near, and he’s so fucking drunk and high off these distractions that he couldn’t think about it if he tried. He’s manic with relief. (See also: “Finally.”)

And now for the finale: Purgatory. Buckle up, because this is where the addiction analogy gets real *chef’s kiss.* Purgatory is the equivalent of the morning after the worst, most rock bottom binge night of your life. You wake up with no one for company but the ghosts of your former selves. Now what?

Well, first - who is Hornigold to Ed? Why is he the guy Ed sees? It’s because Hornigold is another addict, if you will, but one who is (in this Purgatory hallucination) farther along in his recovery. He can impart some wisdom from that place, but he can also stand in as someone Ed can loathe because they’re not as different as Ed once thought, even if Hornigold can say he’s grown.

Hornigold tries to give him soup. He tells Ed, “Gotta get these nutrients into you,” and then literally shoves soup down his throat. That’s what it’s like in rock bottom. You don’t want to take care of yourself, but some lizard brain survival instinct takes over and makes you drink water, eat a piece of fruit, take yourself to the hospital. These things don’t really happen voluntarily that morning after, but you can still count on that instinct to kick in with some damage control.

Ed telling Hornigold how he “got here.” Hornigold says “Mutiny. It’s always mutiny.” Ed insists his mutiny was special, worse somehow. This whole scene is exactly what happens in your first recovery support group meeting. You go in thinking no one has ever been as fucked and fucked up as you are, which makes you feel isolated and alone. But then you get there and everyone else in the circle has done the same shit, been through the same shit. Ed’s not actually the devil; he’s just another demon, like many demons before him.

Ed worries he’s insane when he reflects on everything he’s done. Hornigold’s reply that “Feeling bad isn’t going to rebuild an abdominal wall” is a concept that people usually learn a little bit later in recovery, so I expect we’ll see more on this theme from Ed. Guilt is a useless emotion that only serves to conversely make the addict feel better but doesn’t help the harmed party: the addict feels like their suffering is cleansing, but it’s not - feeling guilt is just more self-indulgence, more self-destruction. Hornigold - a fellow addict in this moment - is trying to get this lesson to him early. It’ll return.

“You’ve got to move on or blow your brains out.” We’re getting back to Purgatory as the metaphor for the morning-after rock bottom, because this is the exact calculation that every person in recovery has done. They all had to answer that one big question. Your whole life is a mess, and you made the mess. Do you want to clean it up? Or quit? (Or make some soup? Yeah. That big question can’t be answered without basic needs having been met. So let’s eat. Let’s start there. It’s easier.)

Now we have Ed’s fantasy about opening an inn: This is also a common part of the morning-after rock bottom. You start thinking about the wrong turns you took, the mistakes you made, the way your life was supposed to go and all the reasons you’re not where you wanted to be. (And all the people you can blame for the fact that your life didn’t go as planned.) And when that honest part of yourself starts telling you that actually it’s all your fault… well, a) you don’t wanna hear it, and b) you can’t silence (kill) that monster, no matter how hard you try. You’ve got to face it. Face all those truths you’ve been running from for years. Now you have to think about it.

So now the big question, the inevitable math. Hornigold suggests looking at the pros and the cons. That’s the easiest way to break the calculation into manageable variables. This is probably my favorite moment of the episode, because when you’re sitting there, morning after the worst night of your life, everything is fucked - these are the exact variables that go into your equation. Do I really want to live? You ask yourself that, and because your life is in fucking shambles, you come up with the stupidest goddamn reasons to keep going. You wanna see the next seasons of Good Omens and Loki. You wanna eat your mom’s spaghetti again. Sometimes it’s nice when someone hugs you. It’s never the big things that save your life; it’s a bunch of the littlest things. The smallest comforts. The big things… they’re too unattainable. They’re too much to hope for, and they’re more than you could possibly deserve. What are the pros of living for Ed? Warmth, good food, orgasms. This is a stunningly accurate representation of the things that will keep you alive once you’ve hit rock bottom.

And then the cons: “I don’t think anyone is waiting for me.” This is why addiction is the better metaphor. There is no human experience more isolating than addiction. You are alone in more ways than you’ve ever been before. You have pushed away or pissed off everyone who ever cared about you. And even the ones who will maybe still be there for you - they can’t help you clean up the mess you’ve made. You have to do the work alone, even if they’re still willing to stand next to you. And this con… it’s the scariest one. Your list of little pros looks so pathetic next to the horror of being utterly fucking alone. Who is going to brave that for some stupid shit like Tom Hiddleston sexily flipping his hair back in that Loki way he does? Why should Ed carry on just because blankets are cozy and marmalade is pleasant?

This is where we get to the moment on the mountain, and what Stede represents. Hornigold tells Ed “You’re unlovable, and you’re afraid to do anything about it.” Ed could do two things about being unlovable: He could try to fix it, or he could end it all. Hornigold represents the worst part of Ed: his weaknesses and cowardice. And if Hornigold is in the driver’s seat, he’s going to end it all. He throws the rock off the cliff, and Ed gets dragged down into the water to drown. (Let’s also talk later about how often addiction is compared to drowning, and how nothing else in the show actually threatened Ed’s life - not Izzy with a gun, not all the rhino horn, not Jim’s cannonball - like drowning in his own mind.)

But then there’s Stede. Stede is how the pros win over that one big, horrifying con. Stede is hope. Stede is just a glimmer of hope. Hope is the most important thing you need in the morning-after rock bottom. As much as I enjoy the idea that it was love that saved Ed, I don’t think that’s a wholly faithful interpretation. Because Stede’s love for Ed doesn’t solve anything, doesn’t fix anything - it certainly doesn’t fix Ed. It cannot fix Ed. Hornigold just told Ed that he’s the one who has to “do something about it,” because Ed is the only one who can save himself. But even if Stede’s love for him in itself isn’t what saves Ed, Ed’s trust in Stede combined with that love gives him hope. Stede loves Ed, truly loves him, came back to him even though he knows Ed’s nature, knows his list of crimes, knows what he’s done to Stede’s friends and family. And maybe Ed can find in himself what he trusts Stede truly sees. It’s a “maybe,” not a certainty. But it’s hope. Someone loves him. Maybe he can love himself, too.

This Woman’s Work: I read this song as referring more appropriately to Ed’s relationship with himself, in no small part because Ed literally made himself the woman in the cake topper couple. All the things that should have been done, should have been said - they’re things Ed needs to do and say to himself. He’s got a little life and a lot of strength left. The journey has just begun.

I want to pop back quickly to a few other moments in The Innkeeper that resonated, starting with Stede and Izzy’s discussion about what happened to Ed: “He went mad. He was a wild dog.” Izzy describes Ed’s breakdown as if he was no longer the same person he once was; this is exactly what addiction does to a person. Ed hasn’t been himself; he’s been held hostage by his need for escape, and he’s become something else. Possessed, if you will.

Izzy: “You and me did this to him, and we can’t let the crew suffer any more for our mistakes.” I’m not writing an essay on Izzy (yet), but this is a very interesting perspective that says a lot about Izzy. Stede and Izzy both owe apologies to Ed, but they are not responsible for his actions. I predict we’re going to see this theme explored in later episodes as a part of Ed’s healing process and recovery. And also hopefully in Izzy’s growth.

Frenchie’s line that “We’ve been living second-to-second for a while now” is a callback to the impossible bird idea. Which, again, is just Chandelier x Sia. “I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down, won’t open my eyes, keep my glass full until morning light ‘cause I’m just holding on for tonight.”

So what’s next? For me, it was learning to sit alone in a quiet room with my thoughts. It was apologizing to the ones I hurt, because even if I didn’t mean to hurt them - even if I was suffering also and worse - they still got hurt, and in the end it didn’t matter why. It was developing the habit of liking myself, and acting on whatever self-love and affection I could conjure up. And yes… it was new seasons of Good Omens and Loki, my mom’s spaghetti, and hugs.

So I think Ed has a lot of accountability, reflection, and breaking of old habits in his future… but also warmth, good food, and orgasms. And good for him. That’s the beauty of recovery: we get to come back.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ed teach #edward teach #blackbeard #ofmd kraken #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #izzy hands #ed teach meta #ofmd meta #ofmd analysis #taika waititi #david jenkins #recovery #ofmd predictions #ofmd season 2 #ed x stede #blackbonnet