#(are you sleeping are you sleeping brother john

[crushpunky]

a cameron family vacation: exploring the city

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Y/n woke up to a weight pressing down on her back, pressing her stomach deeper into the mattress. With a groan, she blinked the sleep out of her eyes and lifted her head up, trying her best to turn over onto her back despite being pinned under the weight. As she turned, she was greeted with the ruffled hair of Rafe, his face lifting to meet her with a groggy smile.

“Get off of me.” Y/n scoffed, pushing Rafe’s face away from hers playfully. He tried to fight her, but as her hands continued to smush his face, he eventually succumbed and rolled onto his side with a laugh.

“Rude.” Rafe groaned, pushing himself up to rest against the headboard. He was still wearing his shorts from the night before, his sweatshirt ditched sometime throughout the night leaving him in a white t-shirt.

“What was rude was immediately falling asleep and taking up the entire bed, boy.” Y/n said with a quirk of her brow. Rafe shook his head, running a hand through his bedhead with a chuckle.

“Would you have rather slept with Sarah or Wheezie?” Rafe pointed out.

“Hmm, maybe John B.” Y/n teased, causing Rafe’s face to immediately fall in a way that made y/n smirk.

“Don’t joke about that.” Rafe muttered, grabbing his pillow and tossing it in her face before climbing out of the bed. He reached down, quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the corner before beginning to dig through his luggage. Y/n found herself watching, her eyes trailing along the freckles that adorned his back and the mess of golden hair that rested on the nape of his neck.

“Wake up! Wake up!” A sudden bang on the door caused y/n to jump, Rafe seemingly unphased as he continued digging through his luggage. The source of the voice was revealed as the door slid open, revealing Sarah, already dressed and ready for the day, an excited smile on her face.

“Oh my god, y/n, there is this coffee place down the street that we have to go to.” Sarah rambled, inviting herself into the room and plopping down on the bed. Rafe glared at her, finally grabbing some clothes from his luggage before shoving the mess back into his suitcase.

“Thank god, I need some coffee. Barely got any sleep because of this one.” Y/n pointed at Rafe, who just shrugged. Sarah’s eyes widened, her gaze darting between the two of you with a questioning glare. Rafe rolled his eyes, before making his way into the bathroom.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled, closing the door behind him.

“You’re worse than Ward and Rose.” Y/n rolled her eyes, climbing out of bed and padding across the floor. With a yawn, she picked out an outfit for the day.

“Ah, that’s what that was about.” Sarah raised her eyebrows teasingly, leaning back to rest on her elbows, referring to the odd encounter between y/n, Rafe, and Ward when they had attempted to enter the hotel last night. Y/n shook her head at the memory, tugging on a pair of linen shorts and beginning to smooth her bed head into something manageable. The room fell into a sort of silence, the only noise the quiet lull of the shower and the street outside.

“Look, I hate my brother as much as anyone else, but you can’t deny that there’s something there.” Sarah smiled innocently. Y/n knew Sarah had suspicions about her more than just friendly feelings towards Rafe. Y/n didn’t have to tell her, nor could she ever tell her, there was a sort of unspoken agreement between them to not say anything about it in fear of making it into something bigger than it really was: y/n had feelings for Rafe, he didn’t reciprocate, and over the years she had come to terms with that reality.

“He doesn’t see me like that Sarah.” Y/n sighed, plopping down on the bed next to Sarah. Sarah frowned slightly, brushing a bit of hair out of y/n’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n. My brother’s an idiot.” Sarah whispered, patting y/n’s cheek lightly.

“Ouch.” Rafe’s voice caused the two girls to whip their heads around. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, his wet hair dripping onto a fresh button down and shorts.

“Finally. Let’s go.” Sarah rolled her eyes, hopping off the bed. She turned to y/n, offering her hand out before pulling y/n to her feet and out the door.

“You better not be planning on stealing my best friend this whole trip.” Rafe grumbled.

“Don’t be a grump, boy.” Y/n teased, grabbing Rafe’s hand and tugging him out the door with them. Despite the faux-serious demeanor Rafe couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

The walk from the hotel to the coffee shop was much longer than Sarah had let on, y/n regretting the flimsy sandals she had put on as they continued to trudge down the cobbled streets of Italy. Sarah and John B walked a measured distance in front of them, laughing and holding hands, only occasionally turning around when they came to a fork in the road.

“Why did we let her navigate again?” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. Y/n laughed, glancing at the various stores and stands that lined the streets. Her eyes caught a small flower stand, lingering long enough for her pace to slow down. Rafe, who had been walking in stride with her for the entirety of the journey thus far, immediately noticed the sparkle in her eye and reached for his wallet.

“What’re you—” Y/n asked as Rafe cut in front of her, a smirk on his face as he walked over to the flower stand. Y/n’s quickly looked up to where Sarah and John B were, who had, much to her surprise, stopped for them. They waved, gesturing to the storefront of what just so happened to be the cafe they had walked all this way for.

“Yeah, yeah, ciao,” Rafe said to the man at the flower stand. Y/n turned back to him, the same smirk on his face but this time, a stunning bouquet of purple and blue flowers adorned with a bit of twine.

“Here. Consider it an apology for your lack of sleep.” Rafe said simply, handing the flowers to her before continuing down the street as if nothing had happened.

“Thanks, boy.” Y/n laughed, hurrying to keep up with him. Once she had caught up, she grabbed Rafe’s bicep, giving it a light squeeze before they ended up in the cafe.

“We thought you guys— oh my god! Those are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” Sarah said as y/n and Rafe joined them in line, hitting John B’s arm to tear his attention away from the elegantly arranged pastry case.

“Well, Rafe got them from the stand just down the street,” Y/n grinned, peering up at Rafe, who was already looking down at her with a grin.

“We’ll have to stop there on the way back.” John B said, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced over at Sarah.

“You’ve got enough cash?” Rafe said slyly, a challenging smirk on his face. Y/n elbowed his side lightly, turning her attention from the boy to the pastries in front of them.

“Just when I was about to say you weren’t being a total asshole this morning.” Sarah rolled her eyes before walking up to the counter to place her order. John B followed before y/n stepped to the counter.

“Can I get a croissant and a small, iced, vanilla—” Y/n started, pointing to one of the fluffy croissants in the pastry case.

“She’ll get a large, iced, vanilla latte, hm? I’ll get just a small coffee and another croissant.” Rafe said, sparing a glance down at her as he rattled off her usual order with ease before quickly swiping his card. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as Rafe grabbed their orders, handing hers to her before the two of them made their way out to the patio where Sarah and John B sat. Rafe pulled out y/n’s chair before sliding into the seat next to her, taking a sip of his coffee as everyone began digging into their pastries.

“So, I was thinking we could go down to the beach later, maybe do some sight seeing? There’s a bunch of museums and churches and…” Sarah rattled off, but y/n found her focus wandering out to the expansive waters of the ocean. Cliffs jutted out into the water, their bright orange a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the water.

“It’s no Kildare.” Rafe said, raising his eyebrows teasingly as Sarah and John B continued to talk about the plans for the week.

“I forgot I was talking to world traveller Rafe Cameron who thinks the Outer Banks are ‘Paradise on Earth’.” Y/n giggled, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Nowhere else has the same memories though.” Rafe pointed out, gesturing with his croissant.

“Who knew you were such a sentimental young man?” Y/n shook her head.

“I think you’ll find that I’m very much full of surprises this vacation.” Rafe said, resting his arm on the back of y/n’s chair.

“Is that so?” Y/n quirked her brow, to which Rafe simply nodded, a sly grin on his face.

[heideez]

stan and ford both smoke.

(a mini-fic, cw: sh & suicidal ideation)

they started when they were fourteen. caryn would always send stanley to the store for smokes, back then. she had been since he was small, so the clerks at the corner store recognized him, didn’t question his age when buying them, just waved him on. the twins smoked the cigarettes in the alley outside the pawn shop, coughing and sputtering and stanley, why did you make us do this? ford, it was your idea!

by the time they’re eighteen they’re certainly used to it. by the time they’re twenty their hands shake if they go too long without it.

cigs are easy to steal, for stan—snag ‘em from the outside pocket of a purse, the lining of some john’s jacket. it’s a habit he can keep up, a small comfort, a reminder of home.

ford chain-smokes between his classes, on the balcony of his college apartment, in the middle of the night at his desk, stubbed out on paper plates of abandoned food.

they’re twenty-eight, and their hands both shake even with the nicotine.

dozens of crumpled packs line the backseat of stanley’s diablo. his arms are lined with circular burns.

ford tried to quit, a few years back, but now he can’t imagine doing so. the cigarettes help keep him awake, and he can’t sleep.

isolation-imposed nicotine withdrawal is not a pleasant experience for either twin.

at the dusk 2’ dawn, armed with the cash of strangers he’s just promised something he doesn’t have (what else is new), stanley wonders if stanford pines would still smoke. the agony of the thought nearly brings him to his knees.

smoking would inhibit peak performance; ford thinks to himself as parallel fiddleford extends the pack towards him. would i want to lose to bill, give over the multiverse, because my lungs weren’t operating at full capacity? i think not.

funny enough, that’s not why ford loses to bill after all.

quit for dipper and mabel. stan will allow himself to break his rule, just this once—if he’s going to be homeless again, going to lose everything…why the hell not? not like he’ll be around as a role model much longer. he puffs twice, convinces himself the kids will smell it, and stubs the cigar out onto his thigh.

ford smells tobacco out on the porch of the sh—his lab. he’s sure it’s stan. who else would be up in the wee hours of the night, smoking? with children in the house, too. typical. ford ignores his various cravings, (including the ones that build pressure behind his eyes, in his chest, when he sees stanley hug the children, speak to them like he cares), and forces himself back down into the lab.

then the world falls apart and stitches itself back together, and stan is blown apart and stitched back together, and they are stitched back together.

ford worries about stanley’s health, now, how many years he’s spent beating his body up and not taking care of himself. stanley, he admonishes in his best lecture voice, i won’t have you picking that habit back up. nothing is taking him away from ford again, especially not a pair of stupid lungs. stan just grins at him—and ford never could control his brother, really.

fuck it, give me a cigarette, he spits one night, coming to stand beside a shaking stanley. both of them had had nightmares that night, ugly memories and haunting laughs rearing their heads. stan looked shocked at his sudden request, but then he threw his head back in delirious laughter. they light the cigs, smoke them like old times. it’s been a while—ford coughs, turning bright red. urgh, lee! why’d you make me do this?

[the-offside-rule]

Sam & Dean Winchester (Supernatural) - Merry Christmas, Kid

Christmas: From The Vault

25 Days of Christmas

Warnings: mentions of k!lling

Italics - flashback

The wind howled outside the rundown motel as the Winchester siblings trudged through the door, cold and weary after a long hunt. Y/n tossed her bag near the door and collapsed onto the creaky sofa couch. She reached down to untie her boots, her fingers fumbling with the laces as she half-listened to her brothers’ banter. "Man, that werewolf had some nerve trying to take a chunk out of me." Dean grumbled, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over a chair. "You mean after you tripped over that log and practically served yourself up on a platter?" Sam shot back, grinning as he dropped his duffle by the table. "Hey, I had it handled!" Dean huffed.

"Sure, Dean." Y/n murmured, her words slurred with sleep as she kicked off her boots. She stretched out on the couch, her eyes fluttering shut despite the conversation flowing around her. "How are you not passed out already?" Sam asked, glancing her way. "Superpower." She mumbled, a small smile tugging at her lips before she succumbed to sleep.

The creaky motel door opened, and the Winchester boys stepped inside, tired and sore after the hunt. The familiar musty smell of cheap furniture and stale air filled the room, but something unexpected caught their attention. "Well, would you look at that." Dean said softly, dropping his duffle bag by the door.

In the middle of the small, cluttered living room, Y/n was sprawled across the ratty sofa, fast asleep. Scraps of colorful wrapping paper were scattered everywhere, along with a half-empty roll of tape and a pair of blunt scissors. A couple of oddly shaped presents sat on the table, wrapped with the enthusiasm of a child but not much skill. Sam chuckled lightly. "She really went all out, huh?"

Before Dean could reply, the door swung open behind them, and John Winchester entered, his boots heavy on the worn carpet. His sharp eyes swept over the scene, landing on the mess. "For crying out loud." He muttered, running a hand through his graying hair. "Now I gotta clean all this up." Dean frowned, his jaw tightening. "It’s fine, Dad. She was just trying to do something nice."

"Yeah, well, maybe she should’ve stayed awake to finish it." John snapped, shaking his head. Sam scoffed, unable to hold back. "You can always count on you to ruin a nice thing." John froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Watch your tone, Sammy." He growled, his voice low and warning. But Sam didn’t back down. "It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you let it go for once?"

John’s face darkened, and without another word, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The room shook with the force of it, and an uneasy silence followed. Dean sighed heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. "Well, that went great." From the sofa, a small voice broke the quiet. "Did I ruin Christmas?"

Y/n stirred sometime later to the faint sound of rustling. She cracked an eye open, barely moving, and saw her brothers. Sam was by the window, arranging something on a spindly pine tree that looked like it had been hacked from the woods outside. He was stringing it with mismatched odds and ends—charms, bottle caps, and even a shoelace. Dean stood at the kitchenette, muttering curses under his breath as he fumbled with the microwave. "Quiet, Dean." Sam whispered sharply. "You're gonna wake her."

"It's not my fault this thing's ancient!" Dean hissed back, shaking a packet of hot cocoa mix like it had personally offended him. Sam rolled his eyes and stalked over. "Give me that. You're hopeless."

"No, you're hopeless!" Dean relatialted. "Me? I'm devorating and you cant even make a simple cup of hot cocoa." Sam whisper shouted. "Its not the making it, its the opening it!" A scuffle broke out, hushed but no less ridiculous, as they wrestled over the cocoa packet. Dean jabbed at Sam with an elbow, Sam retaliated with a swat to Dean’s head, and the powder burst open, spilling onto the counter. Y/n bit her lip to stifle a laugh, deciding not to ruin the surprise. She closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.

Dean quickly shook his head and walked over, kneeling in front of her. "No way, kiddo. You didn’t ruin anything. Dad’s just…stressed, that’s all." Sam came to sit beside her, nudging her shoulder gently. "Dean’s right. You did great." She hesitated, then reached for the gifts on the table. "I, um… I got you guys something."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before sitting down on either side of her. She handed them each a package, wrapped with far too much tape and uneven folds. Dean tore into his first, pulling out a comb. He raised an eyebrow before realizing it doubled as a pocket knife when he slid the end off. He let out a low whistle. "This is awesome, Y/n. How’d you manage this?"

Sam opened his next, revealing a thick book. He ran a hand over the cover, his lips quirking into a smile when he read the title: Law Basics for Beginners. "I know you want to go to college and be a lawyer." Y/n said shyly. "So I figured… this might help." Sam looked at her with a mix of pride and surprise. "It’s perfect. But seriously, how’d you afford all this?" She grinned mischievously. "I went caroling on doorsteps. The suckers gave me money." Dean burst out laughing, ruffling her hair. "That’s my girl."

As Dean laughed, his gaze drifted to the table. Among the mess of wrapping supplies, he saw a small handmade frame, carefully constructed from sticks and twine. Inside was a family photo—John, Mary, young Dean, and Sam. Dean picked it up, his throat tightening. "Is this… for Dad?" Y/n nodded. "I thought he might like it. I know I’m not in it, but—"

Dean cut her off, pulling her into a hug. "It’s perfect. He’ll love it." Pulling back, Dean reached into his jacket pocket. "Speaking of gifts, I got you something too." He pulled out a small amulet on a leather cord and dangled it in front of her. "What’s it do?" she asked, turning it over in her fingers. "It’s anti-possession. Keeps demons out. And it looks cool, too." Dean said with a grin as he placed it around the neck. Y/n beamed, immediately putting it on. "I’ll wear it forever."

Sam reached into his own bag and handed her a small flask. "Here. It’s for holy water. You know, just in case you ever go on a hunt with us." She hugged them both tightly. "I love you guys."

"We love you too, squirt." Dean said, ruffling her hair again. "You should probably go to bed though. It's getting late." Y/n nodded. "But this is my bed." She replied. "You know what, just for tonight you can sleep in mine. Too comfy for me anyway." She grinned and gave her brothers a kiss on the cheek before she hopped off the couch and into Dean's bed, promptly shutting her eyes and falling back to sleep.

When she woke again, it was to the smell of cocoa and the sight of her brothers seated at the rickety motel table. Dean had on a slightly askew Santa hat, and Sam’s was tilted just right, naturally. Between them sat steaming mugs of hot chocolate, the pine tree now proudly decorated in all its patchwork glory. Y/n sat up, blinking in mock surprise. "Wow. What’s all this?" Dean squinted at her. "You didn’t already see this, did you?"

"What? No!" Y/n said, her voice a little too high-pitched. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Liar." She sighed. "Okay, fine, I might’ve peeked. A little." Sam grinned and reached behind him, pulling out a hastily wrapped present. "Here. We picked this up in the last town."

Y/n tore into the paper to reveal a Barbie. Sam's face dropped as he saw the gift, Dean cluld only look on amused. "I'm a little old for Barbie, dont you think?" She looked up, her heart swelling at the effort they’d made. "I- I didn't think it'd be that." Sam replied awkwardly. "And what's you think it would be? Maybe a Ken doll instead-" Sam nudged him hard. "I love it." She said sincerely. Dean laughed. "Yeah, well, thank Sam. He’s the one who thought visiting a mall Santa was a good idea." Sam shrugged. "Hey, it worked, didn’t it?"

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol. "Here, kid. Merry Christmas."

"Dean!" Sam scolded, nudging him hard. "What? It's practical!" Y/n laughed, cradling both the doll and the gun. "Thanks, guys." She got up and joined them at the table, wrapping her hands around the warm mug of cocoa. "So-" She said after a sip. "When are we heading out to catch that vampire?" Dean arched a brow as he put his cup down. "We’re not. It’s Christmas. Even bloodsuckers get the day off." Sam nodded. "It’s probably not much of a threat today. People won’t be out."

Y/n shook her head firmly. "The sooner we kill it, the sooner we get back here. Let’s go." Dean and Sam exchanged a look, one of those unspoken moments of agreement that only siblings could share. Dean chuckled and shook his head. "No DNA test needed. You’re definitely a Winchester."

When John finally returned, he reeked of alcohol, his steps heavy and uneven. He stopped short when he saw Dean sitting at the table, the handmade frame in front of him. "What’s your problem?" John asked, his tone gruff. Dean stood, holding up the frame. "This. This is my problem. You nearly ruined her Christmas like always."

John’s face hardened. "I didn’t—"

"She’s not even in this picture, but she still made it for you." Dean snapped. "The least you could do is not be so selfish for once." John stared at the frame, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he sighed and walked over to Y/n’s bed. Gently, he shook her awake. "Hey, kiddo." He said softly. She blinked up at him, surprised.

"I’m sorry." John said, holding up the frame. "This… this is really nice. Thank you." Her face lit up, and he smiled faintly before pulling a pristine white-handled gun from his bag. "This is for you." He said, placing it in her hands. "It’s to protect you. Tomorrow morning, I’ll teach you how to make salt-lined bullets."

Y/n’s excitement was palpable. "Really? Thanks, Dad!" She hugged him before settling back into bed, clutching her new gun like it was a teddy bear. John turned to Dean, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "Happy now?" Dean sighed. "A little."

"Good. Merry Christmas, Dean." John said as he walked over to his bed and lay down, almost immediately falling asleep. Dean sighed and stared at the frame on the table. He missed how Christmas used to be; his mom, dad and Sam just enjoying Christmas, laughing, no demons or monsters. He wpuld give anything to go back to those days. His gaze shufted to Y/n asleep. He thought that maybe- just maybe- Y/n is the only reason he wouldn't go back. Because what would be Christmas without his little sister?

[tagsecretsanta]

From @niffler-gold

From @niffler-gold to @mariashades

3 prompts:

Cosy warm and safe

As many or as few of the family as will fit into the story 

A peaceful moment among the hectic

Scott jumped as a snowball hit him square in the face splattering ice cold droplets down the neck of his uniform.  He turned glowering trying to locate the culprit. He didn’t have to look very far as there was Gordon a second snowball ready in his hand with Alan next to him bent over laughing. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He began furiously yelling at them, going on and on about how they were at a rescue site and they didn’t need this kind of tom foolery to add to the mess and how they couldn’t ever listen or follow the simplest of orders. By this point Gordon’s mouth was hanging open in shock and the second snowball lay discarded at his feet, Alan behind him was on the verge of tears. John was furiously trying to get through his com to try and calm him but it took a huge bear screaming “Scott” to get him to stop. Virgil had come around the back of two to find out what all the noise was about to see the sight of Scott absolutely tearing into the tinies.

That seemed to shock Scott out of it as he stopped mid-sentence. Vigil spoke once more in a loud growl. “Why are you yelling at them like that, actually don’t answer that, you’ve been in a bad mood all week but it gives you no right to speak to them in that way.” Scott turned away from them all took in a long breath and spat out “pack it up, were going home.”

Virgil walked to check on the younger two as Scott walked away  from them back to thunderbird one without looking back. No one saw the tears escaping from Scott’s eyes as he walked. Virgil immediately jumped into medic mode crouching in front of Gordon to make sure he was okay. “You okay he asked”. “What’s his problem”, questioned Gordon, “it’s Christmas Eve and all I was trying to do was lighten the mood”. “I don’t know Gordon, I really don’t know I know it’s been a heavy week for rescues but this is odd even for him. John chose that moment to interject “he’s been getting more and more worked up all week, but even in the past no matter how bad he’s gotten he’s never snapped like this, especially not at Gordon and Alan”.

Scott flew home mentally berating himself for losing his temper on his younger brothers, just one more problem to add to his ever growing list of disasters. He could count on one hand the number of hours of sleep he had gotten this week due to rescues and ever growing problems at Tracy industries due to the end of the year. And to top it all off news articles had decided to swarm him critiquing his every move in the past eight years since his father had disappeared, down to how he ran Tracy industries to his command role in international rescue and even worse was how he was a parent to his siblings. Slow news week john had told him over coms, which was laughable in itself considering how many rescues they seemed to be attending this week. A few more tears escaped Scott’s eyes as he tried to figure out how he was going to make it up to his brothers after his outburst. But the fact was he simply just didn’t have the time and on top of everything he still had to organize Christmas for his brothers. Ever since his dad had disappeared the job of filling up his brothers stockings and getting them gifts was up to him.

 As soon as one was in her docking bay Scott normally would be up and out but not today. He just sat there his mind racing with a hundred thousand different thoughts of what he needed to do. He didn’t even register the sound of two landing and rolling herself into the hangar thirty minutes later.

Gordon, Alan, Virgil, and john had come up with a plan on their way home to get Scott talking to them and find out what was wrong. Knowing Scott he would be at the desk writing up the report from the day’s rescue they planned to talk to him there and get him to put his feet up for a bit and relax as it was Christmas after all. Once they all finally found their way into the com’s room though they were shocked to find it empty except john sitting all alone. “He’s not here” exclaimed Gordon. “You mean he wasn’t still down in the showers with you” questioned john. This wasn’t normal at all. The first thing Scott did not matter what if he had an argument was to find the said brother and apologise, or would wait for them by the desk so he could make sure they were okay. This definitely was not normal at all.

John walked up to the desk and pulled up a map of the villa and hangars, “he’s still in one” he announced quietly, that sent alarm bells ringing for all the brothers. John sat down at the desk and quietly began tapping keys on the control panel. “What are you doing” asked Alan nervously. “Getting to the bottom of what’s going on” he replied, none of the brothers said anything as they rounded the desk to see what john would find. It was an unwritten rule of the household not to snoop into each other’s computers, but they needed to find out what the hell was going on. Almost immediately nearly 200 documents opened on Scott’s page, ranging from end of year TI documents to GDF documents concerning IR, to horrific news articles being published about their older brother dating from this week. The brothers looked on in horror as they stared at the mountain that was on top of their brother. “No wonder he was tense”, remarked Alan. What’s this asked Virgil clicking on a document marked Christmas? In here they found a document with each of their brother’s names and a detailed plan of surprising them on Christmas morning with gifts and personal experiences to make a glorious day. “Shit” said Gordon. “Shit indeed” whispered john. “We need to fix this” Virgil stated. And from there a plan was hatched.

Scott didn’t know how long he sat there for; all he knew was tears kept creeping down his face every so often. It wasn’t until a large bang went off he even knew where he was. With his heart racing he smashed the button to disembark from the craft and was running in seconds to the source of the noise. He tried calling his brothers over coms to see if they were all right but no one picked up. He skidded into the kitchen to see Gordon holding two large pans next to john’s com which he was holding out to Gordon. The rest of the brothers were also there standing in a line in the most fluffy Christmas pyjamas he had ever seen. Scott stood there frozen in front of them with red eyes from crying and the tear tracks still visible on his face. Virgil walked forward and pulled him into the biggest most bone crushing hug he had ever given anyone before. Scott just shrunk into him letting himself feel small against the huge fluffy arms that held him up. Next thing he knew he had a small Alan squeezing in-between them snuggling up against him. He fell to the floor cuddling the giant teddy bear that was his younger brother whispering how sorry he was continually into his ear. Next he knew Gordon was on the other side of him snuggling in as well telling him to stop being such a dafty. Virgil had kept his arms around Scott as he had sat down and now had John helping him hug his brother on the floor as well. Not one of the brothers could tell you how long they stayed liked that only that none of them wanted to be the first to break the cuddle pile. Eventually Scott sat up straighter though and whispered a thank you to all of them. Only then did they begin to let go. Alan told him to go get a shower and to meet them upstairs as they had a surprise for him.

When Scott got out of the shower he was delighted to find a pair of matching fluffy pyjamas waiting for him. He threw them on and went to find the rest of the family who were already sitting together in a pile of blankets and cushions with big mugs of hot chocolate. He saw that a mug was waiting for him on the side and picked it up. As soon as the brothers saw him they moved aside to let him into the middle of the cushion and blanket pile and as he sat down his brothers cuddled up to him and his favourite holiday movie began playing, Klaus.  Before the movie began properly though john handed him his data holopad and whispered “merry Christmas Scott”. He opened it to find every job on it was either completed or delegated to the right person, every news article bad mouthing him and also seemed to have disappeared as well. The only thing open was his file marked Christmas. He opened it to find a blank document with only 4 words. Enjoy your Christmas Scott. It was signed by each of his brother, and a cheeky AI which is how he presumed all of the news articles had gone missing but he wasn’t going to poke around to find out.

He sat back sipping his hot chocolate feeling happier than he had done in a long time. He really did have the best brothers ever he thought as he slowly drifted off to sleep. He awoke early the next morning to find all of his brothers still firmly asleep next to him, he smiled to himself as he relished being in a cosy cuddle pile (even if Gordon was drooling onto his foot). Just then a call came through from Eos waking the rest of the brothers up. Less than 10 minutes later they were all on their way to help dig out a small (and by small I mean like 3 houses max) village at the base of a mountain. They all decided to go to make it quicker and since it was Christmas they wanted to spend the time together even if it was on a rescue.

With the heavy snow lifting power of thunderbird two they were finished within 30 minutes. They were just packing up and stretching before heading back home to open presents when a giant snowball pummelled Gordon right in the face. He wiped the snow from his eyes to see Scott bent over double laughing with hysterics.  He hadn’t even had a chance to blink when the back of Scott’s head was smashed by another snowball. Scott straightened up and turned around to see john standing all innocently chucking a snowball with one hand and catching it. He sees Scott looking at him with a look of bewilderment on his face and winks at him and chucks the snowball in his hand hitting Alan perfectly square in his face. From there all five brothers began attacking each other with snow balls. No one was safe. Soon some of the small children from the houses peeked out to see what was happening and began joining in.  In the end it was all out war with the brothers teaming up and facing off against the whole village, snowballs were flying everywhere. In the end Scott had to call it off as some of the children and his brothers had begun to turn blue with the cold. It was safe to say this defiantly wasn’t going to be a Christmas that Scott ever forgot. (Especially since john had managed to access thunderbirds two outside video feed that had recorded the entire event and had a picture hanging in the hallway of an astonished snow covered Gordon.) Yes, this was definitely one great Christmas.

[nevermeanttoknow]

ouhhgg the crane wives,, save me the crane wives,

[jessythebunny]

I know this question is not related to your content, but how are you, Jessy? :>

I'm not doing good at all, I'm just fucking screaming in the background bc of this shitty school😤💢!!

[boundsoffateandfamily]

john and sam fighting for dominance using dean's body as a battlefield

[direwombat]

au where john lives in syb's canon and he's so mad that jacob's answer to "how did you successfully turn the deputy to our side?" is essentially just "subspace"

[teaboot]

Please say sike

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[paranormal-potatoes]

I do feel like I should note that from maybe day 1 of playing Dark Parables (and there's a definite chance this was unconscious projecting on my part) I've seen the detective as a trans man. I say unconscious projecting bc I hadn't come to the conclusion of transness yet. I also somehow completely missed that novelization in Briar Rose. so.

[rin-may-1103]

The Master Post.

someone asked for a master post so here we are.

Tag List? yes, there is a tag list. If you'd like to be Added, please leave a comment on the Stories Linked Post. If the tags aren't working for some reason, then you can either Follow this post by clicking the bell (or the three dots) or follow the Story's Post the same way. I'll update both Relevant Posts when there is a New Part.

Unfortunately, I can't keep up with all the people asking to be added to the tag list in all the different posts, so to make it easier, please follow the instructions above. if you don't I'll most likely miss your comment and therefore not add you to the tag list. (if you're not sure if you're tagged or not, you can check out the Tag List Here, please follow the instructions in the comments)

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

I hope y'all keep enjoying the stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

Stories and Summaries:

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Willpower of Space (DP X DC):

A faulty green lantern ring wakes from it's accidental eon long sleep due to how powerful Danny's willpower is. It decides that Danny is a worthy wielder and grants Danny the ability to use it. There's just one problem; Danny keeps dying. and the ring doesn't understand what's going on. Oa is very concerned.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

I'll think of a summary later, for now, it's an expansion of this post.

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

[shrimpybbq]

season 4 pt2 with rafe, his wife and their kids

sarah who comes over to see rafe, only to be met at the door by high school gf-turned wifey, little charlie tangled between her legs as he peeks up at the unexpected guest

charlie’s eyes brighten as he lets out a squeal of “Aunty Sarah!” before suddenly throwing himself against her, giggling as sarah picks him up and cuddles him. she missed her nephew so much, and she had only managed to meet emmy once, so she’s pleased to see the kids even if it’s alongside another less pleasant task

high school gf had been walking down the main road in kildare when she stumbled across sarah and john b a few months back, charlie holding his mother’s hand as she carried a smaller emmy in a chest wrap. the estranged family had sat together at a cafe as she took a sleeping emmy out of the wrap, allowing sarah to hold her niece for the first time.

“She’s so little - so perfect,” Sarah had whispered, eyes fixated on the little human before her, “I can’t believe she came from my brother.”

The older girl laughed at Sarah, before looking at her sadly. “He wants to reconnect with you, Sar. He’s just scared.”

“I just don’t think I’m ready for that. To be honest, I don’t know if I ever will,” Sarah admitted. She had watched as her sister-in-law sighed, before wrapping her in a side hug.

“I know, and I don’t blame you. What he did wasn’t right. But he regrets it, and you should at least know that. He feels bad about it every single day,” high school gf stated.

high school gf brings sarah out to the balcony, only for them to see emmy resting on rafe’s lap as he works. she knows rafe needs to be alone when he talks to his sister so she gently takes her from him, but not before placing a quick kiss on his lips,

“You can do this, baby. Just be calm.”

when sarah waves to the baby at the property hearing, it’s 100% high school gf and emmy. rafe had no interest in attending the hearing, but his wife wanted to go and support his sister so she attended

when sarah finds out she’s pregnant, she feels like she truly understands high school gf more. sarah was so scared to be pregnant and to be a mom, and yet high school gf was even younger when she got pregnant (and she had a drugged up rafe as a boyfriend). she thinks about how alone her sister-in-law must have felt and her heart hurts for her

high school gf gets a text from sarah one evening and the next day, the younger girl is secretly around at the cameron house again. rafe was out on business but the two women talk, with sarah getting advice on what to do and how to tell john b. she ends up crying into her sister-in-law’s chest, scared but knowing she wouldn’t be alone (she gets the best, most rational advice ever too, something she knows is a skill developed from living with rafe)

rafe’s already proposed, so before he leaves he’s having a heartfelt goodbye with his wife

“I’m just gonna be gone for a little while, ok baby? Groff screwed me and we need that money to set us up, set the kids up. A few weeks tops. And I’m gonna call as much as I can once I get to Morocco, so make sure you keep your phone on you, ok?”

“Just promise me you’ll be safe?”

“You know it. I ain’t gon’ do shit that could keep me away from you, you know that. And look, if you really need help while I’m gone, you know you can call Barry,” Rafe said.

“Barry is the absolute last resort,” she mumbled back, “but ok.”

Rafe leaned in and placed a heady kiss against her lips before wrapping her in his embrace. He inhaled deeply, committing to memory the scent of her perfume and the shampoo she used.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

when rafe is locked in the room on the ship just stewing over the events that led to his temporary imprisonment, he’s so angry. he grows angrier when he thinks about leaving his family to try and do something nice only to end up this way

he totally says to sarah that high school gf wouldn’t approve of the way she’s treating him, trying to guilt her to letting him go (she just rolls her eyes and walks out)

when he finds out about sarah’s pregnancy, he’s thinking of his family. the one he lost and the one he built. he wants his sister back in his life, and he wants to know his niece or nephew, the same way she got to know charlie - he’s just so hurt and misguided still

oh you know he’s trying to be helpful and bond with sarah again by giving pregnancy tips - everyone is shocked until they remember that he has a family

“You need to drink some ginger or peppermint tea. It’ll help balance out the acids in your stomach. Chuck a cracker or two in there as well.”

The pogues turned to look at Rafe curiously. He froze as all eyes landed on him.

“I’ve got kids, alright? I’ve dealt with this shit before - you think you’re the first pregnant woman to feel sick?”

he’s in essaouira when he first calls home, his wife so relieved to hear from him. he doesn’t have a lot of time so he promises to speak to his kids later, but for now he needs help finding groff. rafe doesn’t end the call without saying i love you though, no matter how rushed he is

sarah casually tells rafe that his wife knows of her pregnancy, and he just huffs and rolls his eyes. “Of course she does,” he grumbles

groff taunts rafe with his family when he’s stuck in the well - she hasn’t betrayed him yet, he mocks. the way he speaks about high school gf is vile, insinuating she’s a gold digger and only wants him for his name. he even resorts to suggesting she will run away with their children, leaving him alone (which is actually a deep seated fear of rafe’s, though it’s lessened). unfortunately for groff, he failed to do any research on rafe and his wife, so his words don’t reach him in the intended way, rolling off of his shoulders. he knows his wife and he knows their past, now more comfortable in his relationship than ever before

during the rafe and sarah reunion, he’s so emotional and confused. even though he’s comfortable in his marriage, to him, sarah is the one person he thinks could turn his wife against him

“No, you’re just gonna screw me like everyone else in my life. I know you will- I- I know you will. I’ve only got one person left in this world who cares about me, and what- are you going to try take her too, huh?”

Sarah pleaded, “No, no- because I’m all you’ve got! And you’re the only real family I have left - you built your family and so did I, but we’re the only ones left from our old lives. I want us to be happy, and you know that she wants that too. I want us all to be together.”

rafe doesn’t manage to call home again until after the death of jj, but when he does, he’s so desperate to hear their voices - all of them. he’s just watched someone he thought was invincible die, and he just wants to know his family is safe. he uses up almost half of his phone battery on the call, but it’s worth it to him

rafe doesn’t know what the pogues are planning, but he’s adamant that he will support them. his only condition is that he will do so from kildare, refusing to be away from his family for any longer

honestly not a lot to work with for s4 part 2 but I’ve done my best so please enjoy a lot of rafe introspection

click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared yourself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for you to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[pathologicalreid]

heart to heart | s.r.

in which hotchner!reader is set to have heart surgery, and Spencer can't help but be concerned for her

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: angst content warnings: fem!reader, chronically ill!reader, spencer is anxious, inadvertently made jack hotchner a glass child, hospitals, medications, surgery, heart transplant, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, mostly medically accurate, rejected proposals, spencer's pov, mentions death and dying and wills, howl's moving castle word count: 2.51k a/n: this might be my favorite margotober post of the week. i don't know. it's very introspective. twas a request!

Ironically, his heart was racing. Spencer made his way through the cardiac unit with nothing but his imagination to guide him. He had just left the building a few hours ago when you insisted that he sleep in a real bed, and now he was back.

Your dad hadn’t told him what was going on, he just told him to get to the hospital. It was an hour’s drive from his place in D.C. to Johns Hopkins in Baltimore—you could already be dead by now.

He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to you. Not a real, proper goodbye. He told you he’d come back in the morning, which felt ridiculous now.

The sterile fluorescence of the intensive care unit only added to his irritability as he washed his hands upon entry, the CVICU had been your home for the past two months, and in a way, it had become Spencer’s as well. He couldn’t be shocked, you’d been in heart failure for nearly two years, and there was no way he could ignore the worried glances between your doctors and nurses.

You slept more than you were awake most days, Spencer and your dad took turns staying behind on cases, and you usually didn’t have the energy to hold a conversation.

That’s why he’s so surprised to see you sitting up in bed with a cap over your hair, talking to your cardiologist. You looked drained, dark circles gave your eyes a haunted look, but Spencer’s chest filled with relief at the fact that you were still very much alive. “Hey,” Spencer said, looking around the room for even the slightest clue as to what was going on.

Sluggishly, your head turned to look at him, “Hey,” you said back, a weak smile on your face.

He wanted to tell you to lie down, sitting up was obviously draining you of what little energy you had, but more than that, he wanted you to tell him what was going on—he couldn’t guess, he couldn’t bear to be wrong. “What is it? What happened?” His questions were frantic, your father had never called him in the middle of the night like this.

“I’m getting a heart, Spence,” you told him, your voice was gentle.

So, the sky wasn’t falling. The feeling of impending doom that he’s had for the last two years was potentially going to be lifted away, “When?” He asked, stepping further into the room and setting his bag in the chair, crossing his arms as he joined the conversation between you and your doctor.

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, “Tonight.”

He needed to sit down.

“We’re just waiting on some final pre-op labs,” your doctor confirmed, nodding at the both of you. “It’s a good match,” he assured Spencer, “I’ll let you two talk.”

As soon as you were alone, Spencer guided you down to the pillows. Too weak to resist, you leaned back until your shoulders hit the pillows, “Where’s Hotch?”

You hummed in response, “Jack freaked out when we told him I was getting a new heart, dad’s with him until our aunt gets here.”

“He’s worried about you,” he observed, sometimes it was hard to put the age difference between you and your brother into perspective, but at times like this, he remembered just how young Jack really was.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head once, “He’s scared that my new heart won’t love him the same.”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “So, what did you tell him?”

You smiled softly, “I told him it was like in Howl’s Moving Castle.” Pausing for a moment to catch your breath, Spencer took your hand in his, “They’re not taking my love away, I’ll be able to love him even more with a new heart.”

“So, now he thinks your heart is on fire,” Spencer pointed out, tucking a stray hair underneath your cap.

Sighing, you shut your eyes for a moment, “Sometimes it feels like it.”

His chest tightened in sympathy while watching you try to catch your breath, vaguely aware that this was the last night that tonight would be like this, “Are you scared?” It seemed like a foolish question to ask, knowing that you’d had more procedures than most people your age, but this was a big one. This was the big one.

You nodded gently, there were so many things to be scared of, surgical complications, transplant rejection, but you looked at Spencer with pity in your eyes. You were pitying him, “My will is in the top drawer of my nightstand,” you started.

“No,” Spencer interjected, denial creeping up on him.

You sighed, it took everything in you to hold back your tears, “Spence, we have to talk about this.”

He shook his head, “No, we don’t. You’re going to be fine.”

“I need you to be rational,” you pleaded. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, you were begging him to think rationally as refusal crept over him. “You know the statistics. In fact, you probably know them better than me,” you said pointedly.

He sniffled, “You have good odds,” he insisted. “Even if you didn’t have good chances, you’ve always been good at beating the odds,” he reminded you. The two of you had said goodbye before, a nasty battle with bacterial endocarditis had put you in a coma, but you had come out of it, sending you even higher on the UNOS transplant list.

Issues with your kidneys had knocked you out of the running for some hearts, so your only hope was a direct donation. It seemed like you were getting your wish. “My heart won’t be as big,” you murmured, not having the energy to debate Spencer on probability.

“No,” he affirmed, “It’ll be a bit smaller.” Your heart muscle was thick as a result of your cardiomyopathy, and your pacemaker wasn’t able to keep up with your deteriorating health. A transplant became your only hope.

You sighed contentedly, “You always made me feel so lucky.”

“Stop trying to say goodbye,” he told you, tilting his head to the side.

Nodding, he could tell that you understood him, “You’ll never get rid of me, I’ll come back and haunt you.”

Spencer shook his head dismissively, “No dying, sweet girl. We’ve got to take care of your new heart.”

A peaceful silence blanketed the two of you, sitting and waiting for someone to tell him it was time to go. He didn’t want to go. He’d go with you to the operating room if they’d let him.

He said goodbye to you in the hallway, watching you get wheeled away before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking to the waiting room, stopping in his tracks at the sight before him.

A majority of the BAU had gathered in the waiting room, taking up all of the chairs on the right-hand side, settling in for the long haul. “Hey,” JJ was the first one to speak, giving Spencer a quick embrace before stepping back, “How was she?”

“She’s good,” he answered absentmindedly, still looking around the room, a few familiar faces nowhere to be found. “She was tired,” and a bit morbid toward the end.

Jack was curled up on one of the loveseats, a blanket tucked over him. Spencer continued looking around, confusion settling in until Emily spoke up, “He’s in the chapel. Rossi and Morgan are with him.”

Hotch was in the chapel, likely lighting a candle for Haley while Rossi and Morgan said a prayer for you. Oddly enough, it brought Spencer comfort to know that his friends were pulling for you in the ways they knew how, especially when he didn’t believe in it himself.

Spencer looked at the bracelet that you had placed in his hands, it was one of your most prized possessions, and should something happen to you, he was under strict instructions to hand it over to your father.

You were still a teenager when you were first diagnosed, and you were scared of having a big scar from open heart surgery, so your mom went out and bought you a charm bracelet. For each procedure after, you’d gotten a new charm for the bracelet with Hotch continuing the tradition after your mother had passed away.

There was no doubt in his mind that there would be a special charm for this surgery, Hotch usually had Penelope and JJ help him pick it out.

Penelope walked in, handing Spencer a cup of coffee. The average heart transplant takes six hours, but you have so much scar tissue that he wouldn’t be surprised if it took longer than that.

You were two years younger than him, and he found himself enamored with you from the moment you met. Your disease had forced you to leave college early, but your dad had set you up with a job in records at Quantico, both to give you something to do and to keep you nearby.

Until you just kept getting sicker, you were the best person they had working in records, but eventually, you had to leave that too.

The rest of the team caught on to Spencer’s crush, but you found yourself avoiding him like the plague. You turned him down eight times before you finally acquiesced, come to find out the only reason you said yes is because Hotch pushed you in that direction. Of all people, your father had just wanted you to continue living your life—he didn’t want you to become a hermit.

You would be one now though, with all of the immunosuppressants you’d be on post-transplant, you’d be spending a lot of time at home.

Rejection became a trend in your relationship when Spencer proposed to you last year. He’d done it properly, asking your father and Jack for permission, but you’d said no, rattling off some excuse about how he shouldn’t shackle himself to someone with one foot in the grave.

That night, after you had all but broken up with him, you’d collapsed and ended up in the hospital. The two of you made a promise to each other. If you ever got a new heart, you’d finally say yes.

The promise had been your idea, claiming that karma had caused you to collapse in your apartment because you turned him down. Spencer didn’t believe in karma and fate the way you did, but he did believe in you. That was enough for him.

Hotch came back up first, setting a comforting hand on Spencer’s shoulder before he walked back to where Jack was sleeping, your Aunt Jessica was back there with the two of them.

They hit the two-hour mark with no update, and Spencer convinced himself that no news had to be good news.

Derek and Rossi had made their way up to the waiting room, pulling out a deck of cards from the hospital gift shop and dealing around the table. Spencer just watched, he’d played more than enough card games in this hospital before, and he’d likely be playing many more in the future.

You’d have to stay in the hospital post-transplant for approximately a month, but it was some comfort to Spencer that instead of your health declining, you would begin feeling better. It hurt to hope, but he found himself excited at the prospect of you regaining your strength.

By the time five hours had passed, JJ and Derek had fallen asleep in their chairs, but everyone had committed themselves to waiting for you.

Spencer wanted to take you home, settle you into your shared apartment together, and let you heal, but you weren’t going to come home with him. When your month in the hospital was up, you’d go home with your dad and Jack. Your apartment didn’t have an elevator, and he worried about you having to use the stairs all the time. Your dad’s apartment had an elevator, so it became the obvious choice.

You told him you didn’t even remember what home looked like anymore. He couldn’t wait to bring you home.

He’d started to worry after six hours had passed, but just before hour seven hit, your cardiothoracic surgeon came out to the waiting room.

Careful not to wake Jack, Hotch stood up from his chair, approaching the surgeon with a wariness that Spencer had never seen from him. He waved Spencer over, silently inviting him to join the conversation.

“Everything went well, she’ll be in the CVICU still for a few days before she’s strong enough to be transferred,” the doctor explained, garnering the attention of some of the other people in the room. “Visiting hours don’t start for a few hours, but if one of you wants to stay with her until she wakes up, then I’d be willing to arrange an exception.”

You’d be waking up in a bright room with a tube in your throat, and having someone that you knew with you when you woke up would hopefully ease some of your fears. As soon as Spencer was about to offer to keep an eye on Jack so Hotch could sit with you, Hotch interrupted his train of thought, “You should go.”

Spencer frowned, glancing over your father, “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Hotch looked back at Jack, still sleeping on the loveseat. “I need to stay with him, and she wouldn’t want him to see her first thing,” he explained.

If Jack’s fear from earlier was any kind of forewarning, Hotch probably had a point when it came to wanting to stay with his youngest. Even still, Spencer protested, “I can stay with Jack.”

There were a number of people in the room who could stay with Jack, but Hotch clearly wanted to stay, “Don’t keep my daughter waiting, Reid.”

He did not have to be told twice, turning around and following the doctor to your room, scrubbing his hands before approaching the door. Faltering slightly at the doorway, Spencer found himself staring at you. There were so many wires and tubes connected to you that he’d have to take his time doing inventory of them all, there was a tube breathing for you, but your heart—your heart was beating steady.

“You can take a seat here,” a nurse said, gesturing to a chair for him to use. He sat down obediently, setting his bag on the ground next to him.

You wouldn’t come out from under the anesthesia for hours yet, but Spencer found comfort in knowing that he’d be here for you when you woke up. He could let you squeeze your hand when you felt pain, and he’d be there to wipe your tears away. At this point, he’d do anything you asked of him.

For now, all he had to do was wait. He clasped your hand in both of his and sat at your bedside, a ring box burning a hole in his messenger bag—waiting for you to be ready for it.

[sleepyangelkami]

CLOSE CALL b.blake

☆ WORD COUNT - 4.1K

BELLAMY BLAKE X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - based on the episode, 'the calm', season one, episode eleven. during the hunt for food with clarke and finn, you find yourself faced with death, lincoln saves you before it's too late but it's bellamy who finds you running for your life in the woods.

 ☆ WARNINGS - shy!reader, brief mention of insomnia, blood, gore, fire, grounders, saviour!lincoln, death threat, weapons, violence, assault, panic attack, anxiety, sexism, (3) uses of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

bellamy loved sharing a tent with you. he loved being able to brush the hair from your face as you slept soundly while he stared at the tent ceiling, wishing sleep would come over him. he loved waking up to you giggling, pushing him to get up as he slept half the day away.

but it was mornings like this, when he was met with the sight of you leaving that he groaned to himself, hands on his eyes. "where are you going, sweetheart?" pasting his softest tone.

you shimmied the wide-legged jeans up your legs, grinning as you swiped his jacket, not your own. "'m gonna go see octavia." she was currently in the smokehouse, cooking. it was some punishment for something devious she'd done with her grounder boyfriend, 'lincoln'.

"princess." his tone was a warning. "she's in the meat tent for a reason, it's not punishment if her best friend goes and visits her."

you weren't too sure why she was being punished, you weren't sure about a lot of things around here. all you knew was that the group weren't too fond of lincoln seeing as he was a grounder but he saved octavia's life once and had done nothing but be kind to her since. that was enough to get him in your good books.

"okay, then i'll be really mean to her." slipping on your shoes and sticking them out to him.

he rolled his eyes, sighing before sitting upwards. he bent down to tie the laces of your shoes, knowing that he should be up by now already. "no you won't."

you ignored him anyway, smiling as you seated yourself on his lap. he wore his black jeans, that you swore up and down about when he wore to sleep and was currently topless.

"i'll be back to you before lunch." pressing a chaste kiss to your lovers cheek, smiling softly.

you left the tent with a pep in your step, hearing bellamy yell the words, "and tell my sister to stop stealing my girlfriend!" but you only grinned, walking quicker.

everyone was out now, bellamy seemed to be the last awake. you smiled at clarke on your way, deeming her a good friend by now and opening the curtain to the meat tent.

"hi, o." octavia whipped around, grinning at you.

"finally." she scoffed. "next time you see my brother, tell him to stop hogging my best friend."

a smile forced its way on your lips at the mere thought. octavia and bellamy were so alike yet they'd never know, both too stubborn to ever admit it. your eyes trailed to the other person in the meat tent. it was john murphy, infamous around the camp right about now. "oh, hi murphy." a friendly smile gracing your lips. he helped you and many others out when you got sick, it was only fair to return the kindness.

"hey, y/n." though he didn't miss the way octavia nudged your side causing you to frown at her. it was safe to say that they weren't the biggest fans of each other right about now.

your eyes trailed across your best friend, seeing her face glisten. "do you want me to take your jacket? you're sweating."

"good idea, thanks." before the girl could shimmy the jacket off and pile it in your hands, the sound of someone else's voice filled the tent, not murphy's either.

"let's get this party smokin'!" del was a member of bellamy's posse, the one you weren't so fond of, tossing firewood into the fire causing you to frown.

octavia must have shared the same expression. "you don't want the fire too big so maybe just try to knock it down with some wet leaves." you were too embarrassed to open your mouth, inching your way closer to octavia. you never found yourself one to speak freely in front of others.

"you get that from your boyfriend?" the boy retaliated. "grounder-pounder."

but as shy as you may have been, your face suddenly contorted to a deeper frown. you looked at octavia who merely kept quiet, turning and fixing the hanging meat. luckily, murphy spoke instead. "she's right. a hot fire isn't gonna preserve the meat as well."

"can't take the heat? get out of the smokehouse." he looked between the two, knowing better than to throw around looks to you. "you should be kissing our asses for being back allowed in this camp."

"leave them alone." your shaky voice still managed to speak, you followed the boy despite octavia grasping your arm. "i'll tell bellamy."

the boy suddenly froze in his tracks. he turned to look at you, biting his lip with a scoff before turning back around, leaving.

you sighed awkwardly, wishing the entire encounter hadn't happened but as soon as you turned around, you felt smoke engulf you. del should have listened when octavia told him to lay it off with the leaves. you found arms engulfing you, octavia's familiar scent filling your nose. she all but dragged you out of the smokehouse.

the tent went up in flames faster than you could blink.

octavia passed you off to bellamy while a cough ripped at your throat. bellamy questioned his sister's wellbeing, she stated that she was fine, dragging a hand across her forehead. "you okay? are you hurt?"

you shook your head, coughing while bellamy wrapped a hand on the back of your head.

"this is all your fault." murphy stood, his hands outstretching as he pushed del backwards. "we told you it was too much wood!"

bellamy only let go of you once del and murphy began throwing swings at one another, as if it would change a thing. he split the two up, yelling at everyone to stop.

silence engulfed the group. you were next to octavia, a gentle hand rubbing on her back, her face covered in smoke. "bell, now what the hell are we gonna do?" she yelled causing everyone to turn. "that was all our food!"

the food was burned to a crisp. even when people managed to stop the fire, the food was already destroyed. clarke and bellamy looked over possibilities but they only had enough nuts and water to last them a week, two if they were lucky. clarke suggested they hunt.

it wasn't everyday that you were left outside the gates. "can i come?" you excitedly tittered, despite the appauled look on bellamy's face.

"i can take care of her." clarke spoke before he even got the chance to refuse. multiple times, you'd left the gates with clarke, talking on about things that she hadn't a notion about, chiming in with a hum every few seconds.

but she always took care of you, bellamy couldn't dispute with that. "with the entire grounder army out there?"

you slumped but clarke only raised her eyebrows. "and how do you expect her to defend herself if she's starving?"

he knew she was right, as much as he would have prefered to believe she wasn't.

he lined people up, splitting them into groups and handing out guns but keeping it so that one person per group had a gun, the last thing they needed was to run out of bullets right before the grounders hit them. truth was, bellamy didn't know if you were safer out there than you were in here.

you were paired with clarke, finn and a boy called myles.

"don't stay after dark, you hear me?" bellamy was zipping the zipper of his jacket around you but it was clarke who he handed the gun to. "you see grounders, you run back, i don't care who you leave behind."

"i'll be fine." you stretched out the last syllable, placing your hands on the man's shoulders as he was currently crouched in front of you. "y'worry too much."

"i have to worry." he assured. "you don't worry enough." he pressed a kiss to your head as you grinned, then leaning in and pressing one against your smile. "i love you."

"i love you too." you couldn't help but giggle, turning on your heel. "see you soon!"

bellamy watched with a twisting gut, feeling helpless but anxious all at once. he would have gone with you, watching your every move but being the leader of the camp made that incredibly hard for him. he sometimes wished he wasn't in charge, maybe then you could be his only priority. but if he didn't, who would?

"you know, i don't think you're actually allowed to say that." myles was a sweet kid, you supposed but he had some pretty out there views. the forest was quiet, too quiet while finn and clarke trailed above you.

you supposed hanging back with myles couldn't be worse than whatever conversation they were having. "why not? is it so bad to want a traditional marriage?"

"not at all." you answered swiftly. "but it's supposed to be a choice." by now, finn had already caught two squirrels. "the woman should be able to decide if that's what she wants and if you want that, then be with a woman who does too. you can't just force someone into being someone they're not."

"well, we wouldn't have this problem if women just stuck to what they were good at." the comment made you frown.

"myles, can you just be quiet for a second?" the words came from clark who shared the same look of distaste on her own face. you watched as she and finn studied the tracks on the ground, apparently belonging to a boar. "what is it?"

you followed where they sat, kneeling down beside finn to see what was wrong while myles hovered over you all. "these tracks..."

once you got a closer look, you could see how close together they were, how stuck in the mud they truly seemed. "they're perfect."

"too perfect." finn added, his eyes casting upwards. "we're the ones being hunted." someone had planted the boar tracks.

instantly, a shiver ran up your spine while myles stood up, pointing his gun as he glanced around the woods. "i don't see anything." as if on command, there was a swooping sound and suddenly, the arrow landed in his leg, the next in his shoulder.

you could have screamed, instead you gasped out the boy's name, looking to clarke for help. your hands instantly sat on the wound, covering it so blood didn't leak out, clarke sat at the other side, doing the same to his shoulder. "guys, come on, we gotta leave him." finn was adamant, rushing the girls forward.

"we can't just―" you didn't get to finish your sentence for something hard hit you over the head and suddenly you were laying flat on the ground, dizziness swirling your vision. you could vaguely make out a grounder coming from behind finn and doing the same, you didn't see what they did to clarke.

then everything became nothing at all.

it turned black.

𝜗𝜚

when you woke, you were being forced onto the ground. your hands were bound in front of you and your knees smashed against the cold gravel, you could feel the flesh break apart, little cuts littering against your skin. finn and clarke were in the same position, sharing glances of worry.

your brows were knit together as your eyes scanned where you were, some kind of cave though it also appeared to be a room. your first thought was bellamy, how worried the boy seemed when you left, you could only imagine the worry when you didn't return. you'd imagine by the lighting that it was well after sunset.

"we walked for about three miles." finn began to whisper. it appeared as though he and clarke hadn't been hit as hard as you had. "after crossing that creek, another two or so before we got to the road."

"i don't think it matters, finn." clarke's voice had a sense of desperation in it. "they didn't blindfold us which means they don't care what we saw. they're gonna kill us."

a cold feeling settled in the base of your stomach, bile rising to your throat. bellamy was right, it wasn't safe out here and you just had to go and get yourself killed.

two grounders pulled you up by your shirt, you let out a whimper as they shoved you forward, others doing the same to clarke and finn. they led you down the cave's hallway and into another room where other grounders were waiting then shoving you right back on the ground.

a woman stood in front of you, wearing a long black coat. she unleashed her sword, suddenly stalking towards clarke. you made a move. "wait." you tried, shoving yourself in front of her but you were quickly hauled back by one of the grounders.

but the woman didn't kill her, on the contrary, she cut the ropes on her wrist, untying her. they shoved clarke to her feet, uncovering a girl who laid across a table, gasping out in pain. "help her. if she dies, they die." you gulped, turning to finn who shared the look of fear. "her name is tris."

"i can't do this." clarke looked at the body, turning her so she could see her face. "i don't have any equipment."

"we'll provide you with what we can."

"why do you think i can save her?"

"lincoln told her." finn chimed in.

"yes." the woman answered. "our healer is gone, there's nothing we can do for her. for their sake, i hope you can."

"clarke." finn's eyes were glued to the blonde's, adoration filling them. "you can do this."

the woman and the rest of the grounders began to clear the room until clarke's voice stopped them. "wait. what happened to her?"

a dark look was in the woman's eyes. "she was on the bridge when your bomb exploded. you did this to her."

𝜗𝜚

alcohol stained your hands, blood too.

"it's as sharp as it's gonna get." grounders now filled the room, watching as clarke did everything she could to save the girl. she was hit in the chest and was loosing blood, she needed more and desperately so.

"okay, thanks." clarke snapped the syringe from finn's hand who'd been sharpening it against the ground.

you were busy holding a cloth to the girl's chest, hoping to stop the loss of blood but it wasn't doing a great job. clarke stained the needle with bleach, hoping to rid it of any bacteria while your eyes scanned the girl's face. she couldn't have been older than fifteen, how could anyone send her to battle in the first place?

she was a child.

"okay." she stood in front of the 'leader' who went by the name of anya. "i'm gonna need your blood."

a grounder placed his hand in front of anya, pulling her away. "no." was his answer.

"you're from the same tribe, it's the best match we're gonna get." clarke was adamant but so was anya, neither of them willing to take the risk.

"clarke, she's gonna die." your hands were shaking desperately, tears floating your eyes. "use mine! just use mine!" clarke took you up on the offer, pulling your hands from the girl's body and sticking the syringe into your arm. you winced as she sucked the blood into the syringe, you instantly felt sort of dazed but shook it from your head.

clarke handed the syringe to finn and she searched the girls arm. "i can't find a vein." frantically searching her. "she's clamping down, she's lost too much blood."

your faint voice could be heard. "clarke..."

"oh, come on." desperately trying to save her.

but you shook your head, icy fear withering you away. "clarke, she's not breathing."

a simple sentence that silenced them all.

clarke backed away, meeting in the middle between you and finn while anya stepped forward with her knife, cutting a braid from the girl's hair and nodding to one of the grounders. he picked the girl up, gently as possible, leading her out of the room.

you couldn't bear to look, chest feeling hot.

anya suddenly turned to the grounders in the room. "take them away." eyeing you who held your tied hands close to your chest. "kill them."

your breath caught in your chest. "wait." tears filled your eyes as one of the grounders grabbed you, hauling you upwards. "wait, wait, wait, no, no, no, please." he harshly pushed you forward, carrying you away.

"no, no, no, no, please!" one grounder held clarke back as she pushed at him, trying to get to you. "no, i did everything i could, please!"

but the sound of her voice suddenly faded out as they carried you away. you pushed at them, thrashing in their arms but it was no use, the grounder hauled you away from the room. he suddenly set you down, holding your tied wrists down as his face came close to yours. "don't move." his gruff voice could be heard as you looked away, tears filling your eyes.

another grounder walked behind you while he walked in front of you, leading you to the front room of the cave. your mind suddenly turned to bellamy, how worried he must be. you could see the darkness from the entrance.

you couldn't help it, you ran.

but you didn't get far. instantly, you were picked up by the grounder from behind. you whimpered, thrashing against him but it was no use, he shoved you inside the room, practically throwing you. your head hit off the stone floor and you brought your hand to the back of your hair, metallic liquid staining it.

you pulled it away, shaky eyes spotting the blood dripping down your fingertips.

"w-wait." tears pooled your eyes, fear lacing your tone. "please, please, i didn't do anything wrong, please don't do this―"

you gasped out as a grounder took a fist of your hair into his hand. "your punishment shall be death by a thousand cuts." and before you could take in what he said, you felt a knife scratch across your face, cutting your cheek.

you cried out, hand coming to grab your bloodied cheek as you dragged your body backwards, crawling into yourself. a fat tear rolled down your cheek as your body caved in, huddling your knees up to yourself.

it was no use to cry out and beg them to stop, the grounders were simple beings, once given an order, all they could do was follow it. but still, your mouth uttered the whisper, "please." at the same time as you felt a slash against your left leg.

suddenly, a sword crashed through the grounders head. this time, you screamed. the sight was horrific, blood spewed outwards and you held a hand over your mouth. the body dropped to reveal lincoln, the man who adored your best friend more than anything.

"natrona." the grounder suddenly whispered, the word meant 'traitor'. he yelled out and charged at lincoln who pushed him backwards, guarding him against the wall.

lincoln stabbed a sword through the grounder's abdomen, who yelled out again. "go!" lincoln yelled to you, staring at your terrified form. "go, now!"

and you had no choice.

a whimper left your lips as you ran forwards, lungs collapsing. you worried for lincoln, not wanting to leave him alone but if you stayed, it'd meant lincoln did it all for nothing.

your feet ran towards the exit, tears swamping you as your legs moved at a super speed, running the fastest you'd ever run in your life. never, had your calves burned like this and never had your lungs ached so horribly. all you could see was the moment you were thrown into the room, the horrifying look on the grounder's face. you'd do anything to escape it.

running as though your life depended on it, and perhaps it did.

you managed to look backwards, worried something or someone was following you but as you looked back, you felt yourself run into something solid.

someone.

your mouth opened to scream at the same time as a hand wrapped around your mouth clamping down on it as he turned you to hide behind a tree.

your eyes opened to reveal bellamy, staring at you with eyes full of concern. "what happened?" he frantically searched you as his hand left your mouth. "why are you bleeding? where are the others?"

"b-bells." your cry shook your voice, eyes turning behind you, you swore you could see people between the trees, though they vanished as soon as they appeared. "we have to go, we have to leave. they're-they're gonna find us."

bellamy had never seen you so shaken, shallow breaths making way to your throat but not seeming to find their way out. "hey, hey, look at me." his hands grabbed at either side of your face. even in the darkness, you could make out his pretty dark curls and his enlarged brown eyes. "you're okay, 's just me, you're okay, sweetheart."

and you couldn't hold yourself back any longer. you threw your arms around him, holding him close as nervous sobs wracked your body, chest heaving out as if it were on fire.

"'s okay, you're fine." his hands smoothed your back, doing his best to reassure you but by no means did your shallow breaths slow. "you're safe, princess."

"can we go?" you pulled away, nervous eyes scanning the forests. "please, bells, i wanna go home."

he couldn't deny your scratchy voice or blotchy cheeks. "okay, okay let's go, angel." he helped you walk though you stumbled better than you walked. his eyes glanced down at the blood seeping through your jeans. "your leg." he didn't bother to inspect it, merely hooking his hands around your legs and lifting you up.

your head lolled against his shoulder, arms around his neck.

you began to feel dizzy but bellamy carrying you seemed much better than trying to run again. still, your eyes danced everywhere they could, searching high and low for a grounder, a surprise attack.

you must have run far for it didn't take long for the clear vision of the camp to fall into line's view. as soon as the gates opened and bellamy carried you inside, you found air falling back into your lungs.

"y/n?" the sound of octavia's voice was the first to fill your ears. you must have looked a wreck, covered in blood, carried limp in bellamy's arm. "oh my god, y/n. what happened?" though her voice was directed at her brother, not you.

"it was lincoln." your scratchy voice suddenly spoke, causing her brows to crease. "lincoln saved me."

her eyes fluttered and questions began rolling in. raven suddenly stepped forward, demanding to know where finn was, others began to question about clarke. suddenly, you couldn't breathe again. "okay, listen up!" bellamy's voice rang through the camp, silence followed. "everyone get back to your tents! we'll continue the search in the morning!"

he didn't wait for them to follow his orders, knowing they would anyway. instead, he carried you towards a tent.

everything was suddenly spinning, nothing seemed to make sense. black dots began to cloud your vision and you couldn't see which tent he had carried you to. you could see a woman, very vaguely and he was speaking to her, at least he looked like he was. his lips were moving but you couldn't register the words coming out of his mouth.

the girl must have been something to do with a medic because you could feel her lifting your head up and inspecting between the strands of your hair. you saw bellamy's face contort, but it was turning to mush, practically a mere squiggle now.

he stepped backwards and your hand suddenly reached him.

he looked back to your face, eyes softening. it was apparent that you weren't really there and how could he blame you? the blood loss was already obvious.

"don't..." it seemed like a chore to get syllables to pass your lips but nonetheless, you willed yourself to move, grasping his large fingers in your hand. "don't leave me."

"'m not going anywhere, princess." and to prove it, he sat against the chair next to you, letting the woman inspect your wounds. "okay? you can rest now, i'm right here."

through the haze, his voice was the only thing your mind could grasp to.

you slowly nodded as your eyes fluttered shut.

"you're safe, sweetheart." being the last thing you heard before everything went black.

main masterlist/bellamy's masterlist