#a high pitched scream. every ten minutes

[casiavium]

banished to the lower level exhibition again today 😔

[sweetfushi]

Hi there!! I would like to request akaashi, iwa, and kenma x reader when he caught reader simping about him to her friends eventhough they haven’t date yet..

🏕anon

HE CATCHES YOU TALKING ABOUT HIM.

fluff | keiji akaashi, hajime iwaizumi, kozume kenma x reader, mentions of a breakdown but nothing happens | word count. 1.9k ◦ notes. my first named nonnie :o

KEIJI AKAASHI.

“I’ve only ever seen him in two places; in class and in the school gym. I’ve never actually interacted with him in either one,” you admit sheepishly to your friends, who are giggling and smacking you in excitement.

“No stop! We’ve talked to him before because we know Bokuto, he’s actually super sweet! He’d totally like you if he doesn’t already– if you just talk to him!”

You practically swoon at the idea, your squeals alongside the similarly high-pitched noises of your friends reverberating through the school’s backfield. Initially you had gathered after class to have snacks and talk after school, but that turned into intense fangirling and wingwoman-ing.

“He’s so cute I could just- agh,” you whine, rubbing your palms on your eyes as you pout at the near certainty of never being able to be with him. He’s so out of your league; playing for the school’s volleyball team, being friends with one of the most popular guys in school, having the calm demeanour that practically every girl looks for in a man. If he wasn’t seeing someone already, you likely still wouldn’t be in his list of romantic options.

Alongside the aforementioned and your lack of spatial awareness, you’re entirely oblivious to the person approaching the bench you’re sitting on, until one of your friends has to grab your face to make you stop talking - stop talking about the very person who’s now observing you curiously. You don’t take the hint until you hear Akaashi clear his throat from behind you and bend down to pick up the volleyball that landed by your feet.

“Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh,” is all he receives from you in response, to which he smiles kindly. A smile that has you inches away from bursting into tears about how much you miss someone who isn’t yours.

He eyes you once more before jogging back to the corner in which he and Bokuto appeared to be practising, your eyes following him as he did so and observing his every jog and step.

Following that interaction, your group falls silent for a few seconds, until you slam your head onto the bench table and let a muffled scream rip from your throat - enough to express your humiliation but also keep it among your friends, unlike your previous conversation.

“Kill me, I can’t ever look that man in the eyes again. Do it now, quick and painless while I’m not ripping my hair out.”

One of your friends snorts out a laugh and smacks the top of your head. “Girl, as if you could ever look that man in the eyes. Don’t worry about it, he was smiling.”

At that, your head snaps up and you launch yourself across the bench until your face is centimetres away from your friend’s. “Was he really? Don’t lie to me, I didn’t see him smiling.”

She shakes her head. “That’s because you were too busy wallowing in your self-pity and staring at us to realise. He walked off like he got the biggest birthday present of his life.”

And as told, Akaashi had jogged back to Bokuto with a massive grin, rather uncharacteristic of the man who typically - at most - cracked an amused smile. Thus, when Bokuto sees him coming back with such an expression, the ball becomes the last of his concerns. He leans over to observe Akaashi closely, humming curiously.

“Did something happen?”

“Ah, nothing really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Akaashi.”

“Bokuto.”

The owl-like man groans and snatches the ball in mock frustration, to which Akaashi chuckles and gently pats him on the back. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to inform anyone that he’d started grinning at the mere sound of you giggling about the prospect of interacting with him.

HAJIME IWAIZUMI.

For the past ten minutes, you and your friends had entered a routine of squealing about the prospect of being Iwaizumi’s lover and shushing each other when the excitement became too loud. Eventually, it reached a point where the latter was no longer done - no one was supervising the volume of your swooning and dreaming.

“He’s so dreamy,” you sigh, resting your right cheek on your right fist.

“And jacked, I mean he could probably pick you up easily,” one of your friends comments, waggling her eyebrows and laughing at the drastic change of colour in your face.

You’ve interacted with Iwaizumi a few times, enough to classify him as a friend, but not enough that you’d expect to see him frequently or even anticipate him thinking about you. In actuality, the man doesn’t go a day without you crossing his mind, to the point where he starts questioning where the hell he developed his interest for you from. That’s not to say you’re not an intriguing person, just that he hadn’t had a serious conversation with you that wasn’t interrupted by something - whether that was the both of you needing to head to class or Oikawa yelling his name.

“I’m telling you, I’m getting taller, you asshat,” Iwaizumi grumbles to a very tired and sluggish Oikawa.

“And I’m telling you I don’t care whether that’s true or not as long as you’re still a reliable spiker.”

Iwaizumi smacks the top of his head with a passion so strong it would seem as though the two were words away from killing each other.

The two continue to walk through the school’s lengthy corridors until they approach the gym’s open doors. A message was sent out to the Seijoh team group chat, following which all that came as responses were thumbs up reactions to the message. At least they weren’t ignoring it.

As the two men walk into the gym and toss their bags in a corner, Oikawa can hear chatter and laughter from people other than him and Iwa, sufficient enough to distract him from the impending practice match. After greeting the others and agreeing on a rotation for the game, Iwaizumi’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. He knows it doesn’t come from his lot since they’re too busy stretching to care, so he’s fairly certain it’s coming from the group of girls he can see in the gym’s far other side - the spot reserved for basketball. His interest is only truly piqued when he notices your familiar face.

Though, he can’t just walk over there and question you.

Matsukawa has his hands on the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it. He’s not really paying attention to what Oikawa is babbling about behind him, so Iwaizumi seizes the opportunity and politely asks for the ball from him. Once Matsukawa hands it over with a heavy sigh prior, Iwaizumi practically launches it to the other side of the gym.

“Oikawa, you absolute trash,” Iwaizumi grumbles with faux annoyance before jogging over to get the ball, providing him with enough of a chance to get within your close proximity and overhear your conversation.

“Iwa’s so hot. I need him as mine so so bad. I die every time he talks to me.”

“That is highly concerning,” Iwaizumi intercepts into the conversation after retrieving the ball, to which you scream and slap your hands over your mouth as if you were caught leaking confidential information (which isn’t too far from the truth).

Your friends are gaping and avoiding eye contact with both you and Iwa in an attempt to appear apathetic to the whole situation, something they fail at tremendously.

“T-That was not about you,” you sputter.

Iwaizumi raises a brow and feigns consideration, though he doesn’t say anything to point out the fact that there is no other Iwaizumi in the school, let alone one that talks to you. “I’d hope not. Wouldn’t want you dead now, hm?”

And that’s all he says before flashing you a knowing smile and heading back to his group.

KOZUME KENMA.

The bell above the door jingles as you step into Ukai’s shop. You wave at him as he lights a cigarette and dusts his hands off on his apron. Other than a sweet treat, you’re not sure what else you want and it certainly doesn’t help that you’re a group call with your friends. As usual, you grab your favourite sweet before starting to survey the shop’s contents; from bread to ramen to buns. All the while, you catch sight of Ukai scrolling uninterestedly on his phone.

“I know he’s quiet but trust me, I’ve seen how he is with Kuroo and he’s just reserved,” you retort to your friends as they question your interest in Kenma. “Shut up, I know you guys have all met and talked to him, you know how he is,” you laugh. They all have chemistry together and always tell you about how depressed the blond looks in class.

“Heeey, boss. Heard you’ve taken’ on Karasuno. We’re headed over there now and I wanted to give ya’ my condolences,'' you hear Kuroo tell Ukai, followed by a loud exhale from the latter. Where there’s Kuroo, there’s usually Kenma, so you instantly tense up and feel self-conscious about your appearance and the way you carry yourself.

“If this game is a waste of my time you’re buying dinner,” Kenma finally grumbles.

You feel your heart pound faster and a squeal bubble in your throat. It’s ironic that his tone is that of disinterest yet you’re so very interested in the smoothness of it.

“Guys, he’s here right now,” you whisper into the mic of your earphones.

“No way!”

“Is Kuroo with him? Tell him I said hi!”

“Just your luck, huh?”

You try to tune their comments out in an attempt to steady your breathing before they turn to the aisle you’re in and catch you having a near-breakdown. You’ve never really talked to Kenma one-on-one, Kuroo has always been there. Not that you have anything against the charismatic captain - and it’s not as if you have the courage to talk to Kenma alone. That was slightly juxtaposing in that little to no courage is required to talk to someone who’s of little words.

You finally catch sight of him getting what appears to be his usual, considering how fast he locates the items and tosses them into the basket Kuroo is holding. You continue to walk down the aisle you’re in, in search of a new drink to try.

“Guys, Kenma likes the same pie I do. We’re so meant to be together,” you giggle into the mic, to which your friends sigh and verbally reprimand you for your delusional theories.

“Excuse me.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice behind you, but move out the way. Kenma grabs one of the drinks he’s eyeing and surveys it in his hand. When he glances at you, his eyes widen to attention. “Hey, it’s you.”

Smiling awkwardly, you nod. “Yeah.”

“Were you just talking about me? I heard my name.”

“Huh,” you say dumbfoundedly, before acknowledging the fact that Kenma had just heard you giggle about your mutual taste for apple pies. “Oh, u-uh, I just noticed that we like the same pies.”

He nods, convinced that you were simply talking to yourself and not giggling to your friends about how in love you are with him. “Have you tried this drink? I don’t know if it’s good,” he asks you.

You’re still a bit dumbfounded by the whole situation and he notices, which is why he waves a hand in your face and calls your name. All you register is that Kuroo now approaches behind him and snickers knowingly at your expression.

“Oh, blondie, you’re so oblivious.”

“Huh? To what?”

“Exactly.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[nyrandrea]

Restless

Summary: As your sleepless nights start to catch up with you, you turn to a certain vampire who might just be able to help.

Also available to read here on A03!

Word Count - 2.7k

Enjoy!

xxx

Sleep had always been something of an illusion to you. 

Each night, as the world succumbed to slumber, you lay in your bedroll, with eyes wide open, gazing at the twinkling stars of the endless night sky. It was as if the world had pressed pause, leaving you to confront the shadows of your own thoughts. Your insomnia was a relentless adversary, a cruel warden that held you captive in the prison of wakefulness. 

The nights stretched on endlessly, and as the hours ticked by, your exhaustion grew more profound.  

Your mind raced with thoughts, a relentless carousel of worries, hopes, and regrets. You would toss and turn, your body tangled in the sheets, seeking elusive comfort. Come morning, the birds seemed to mock you, a constant reminder of the passage of time that slipped away while you lay wide awake.

By the time everyone else was up and refreshed from a good night’s sleep, you were still lying flat on your back, your bloodshot eyes stinging as you stared up at the pale morning sky. 

“Darling, it’s time to get up,” Astarion said, standing above you with hands on hips, his expression somewhat bemused. “Honestly, you’re so lazy, just like Gale.” 

He muttered that last part, glaring towards the wizard’s tent as a rumbling snore emanated from it and echoed throughout the camp. The vampire suddenly smirked, and you rolled your head to follow his gaze, only to see Karlach sneaking towards the tent with her hands out, ready to pounce. 

The snoring was cut short with a high-pitched scream, followed by a roar of laughter, and a lot of cursing on Gale’s part. 

“Good, at least that’s one of you up,” Astarion said, turning back towards you. “Now, are you going to follow suit? Or am I going to have to stoop to Karlach’s tactics? Brash as they are.” 

“Hey! My tactics are quite refined, thank you very much,” Karlach rebuked, stabbing a thumb in Gale’s direction, the poor man stumbling to find his cloak. “Got him up, didn’t I?” 

“That you did, darling.” 

“I’m up,” you muttered hoarsely, wincing as you slowly pushed yourself up off the ground, your body feeling about a hundred years old. “I’m up.” 

“Oh dear,” Astarion grimaced. “Looks like someone didn’t get their beauty sleep last night, hm?” 

His tone was light but there was an almost... concerned note to it, as if he was prodding. You felt a pang in your chest; he only spoke the truth; your eyes, once bright and expressive, now bore the heavy bags and dark circles of sleep deprivation. Your skin had dulled and paled considerably over the past few weeks, and your hair was dishevelled and unkempt.  

You almost certainly looked as bad as you felt. 

Part of you wanted to blame the group: Astarion for nearly sucking you dry of your blood, Karlach for being so damn loud all the time, Gale for making demands of you every ten minutes, Lae’zel for very nearly causing fights everywhere she went with her brashness, Shadowheart for her condescending demeanour and Wyll for craving validation from you every time you had a chat with him. The only sane person here seemed to be Halsin, and even he was starting to grate on your nerves for just looking so damn well-rested and perky.

The other part of you wanted to cry, to apologise for being such a failure and run away into the woods to never be seen or heard from again and just succumb to whatever fate the mind-flayer parasite had in store for you. 

Instead, you forced a smile, and lied.  

“Just had a nightmare, is all.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed, a simmering concern etched into the lines of his face. In that moment you felt a soft push in your mind, and the tadpole behind your eye squirmed as if responding to something. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken emotions, a palpable tension that seemed to hang between you both.  

It was only when you winced that the vampire averted his gaze, and the unseen force retreated from your mind. 

“Terribly sorry,” Astarion said as you rubbed your head. “It would seem that my worm wanted to talk with yours; perhaps it was... concerned. Ooh, do you think that they’re best friends?” 

“I doubt it,” you muttered, a little annoyed at his giddiness. “Maybe tell yours to mind its own business next time.” 

“Of course, apologies again,” he said with that smooth voice and puppy-dog eyes of his, it was enough to make your irritation melt away. “But should a nightmare ever arise in that darling head of yours again, just know that you can seek me out.” 

You blinked, a little surprised at the open invitation. You couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine; it was always hard to tell with him. The only times you had ever been intimate was whenever he sought you out for a bit of casual fun. He seemed confused as to why you never wanted to initiate, but you tried to explain that while you enjoyed your time together, you never wanted to invade his privacy as you respected that camp time was everyone’s chance for a bit of peace and were entitled to such.  

This only seemed to confuse him further. 

Still, this had to be a big step for him, to ask you to his tent -his sanctuary- and you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

“I-I will,” you stutter. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, my dear,” Astarion smiled. “Now, shall we see what chaos today brings for us? It’s been far too long since we’ve had to kill anyone.” 

You bumped his shoulder playfully. “We killed that group of bandits only yesterday.” 

He returned the gesture with a sly smirk. “Exactly.” 

During the day, you continued your journey with a fragile facade of normalcy, sipping on coffee like it was the elixir of life, desperately trying to stay awake. Your interactions with others were tinged with a weary detachment, as if you were viewing the world through a foggy pane of glass.  

Emotions played hide-and-seek within your very soul. Frustration lurked just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation. An innocent quip or question would trigger an unexpected wellspring of tears, followed by nervous laughter, leaving everyone in the group perplexed. You merely brushed it off as the tadpole messing with your head, but even that raised a few eyebrows as nobody else was acting up—it was a good thing you were persuasive. 

You tried to avoid battles wherever and whenever you could, opting to take the longer roads or attempting to sweet-talk your way out of a sticky situation. However, some fights were unavoidable, and this was when your sleep deprivation was really put on show for everyone to see; your movements were sluggish, enemies were able to get more hits on you and you had to be helped back up to your feet on more than one occasion.  

The others insisted on setting up camp a little earlier than usual so you could rest and, despite your trying to tell them that you were fine and wanted to keep going because these tadpoles weren’t going to remove themselves anytime soon, they wouldn’t take no for an answer.  

So, here you were again, on your back, staring up at the stars. Another night of having an existential crisis while everyone else slumbered on peacefully. Rinse and repeat. 

You had tried everything to conquer your insomnia. Experimented with herbal teas, soothing music, you had even consulted a sleep specialist back in Baldur’s Gate who prescribed a cocktail of medications. But the battle persisted, night after night. 

Sitting up and rubbing your dry, stinging eyes, you decided to try something else. 

As you crept through the camp, you were careful not to wake anyone else up as you approached Astarion’s tent, tentatively peeking in through the flap before reprimanding yourself; even though he had invited you, boundaries were important, you couldn’t just go barging in. So, you gently knocked on one of the wooden beams that supported the tent. 

“Astarion...?” You softly whispered, waiting for a response. 

Only silence followed. 

You knocked again, wincing slightly at the louder noise you made. For a moment you thought about abandoning this whole silly idea and going back to staring into space for the next eight hours, but desperation made you persistent. 

Mercifully, you heard a faint shuffle come from inside the tent. 

“Come in,” Astarion’s husky, muffled voice answered. 

Nervously, you slipped inside, and a wave of warmth immediately washed over your face as you were greeted with the sight of a bare-chested Astarion sitting cross-legged on his bedroll. You were grateful he at least had pants on, otherwise you would have been out of there like a shot. 

A mischievous smile spread across his face as he watched you squirm uncomfortably. “Whatever is the matter, darling?” His lips formed a perfect pout. “Come to ask me for a little cuddle to chase the bad dreams away?” 

Your nostrils flared as you glowered down at him while he smirked smugly back up, because of course he would tease you about something like this. You should have known that he wasn’t going to take you seriously. 

“Forget it,” you said, making a sharp turn to re-open the tent flap. “I-I never should have come here, I’ll just... leave you be.”  

You missed the flash of panic on his face as he quickly got to his knees to reach out and grab your wrist before you could make it out.  

“Wait!” He said, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, come back in, please?” 

You slowly turned your head. 

“I promise not to tease you.” 

Begrudgingly, you allowed him to take your hand and escort you back inside, guiding you to sit down beside him on the floor. 

“You’re having trouble sleeping again, I presume?” 

Nodding your head, you squeezed the bridge of your nose and sighed, trying to swallow down the overwhelming urge to break down in front of him and cry in pure frustration.  

“I... I’ve been struggling with insomnia for a while now.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Well now, that’s a revelation.” 

You had half a mind to slap him. 

“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “No teasing, of course, but come on darling, it was pretty obvious from the start.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your gaze cast downward, wondering why you even came here in the first place if he was just going to insult you. 

“You’re still beautiful,” he said, softly caressing your jaw to angle your face towards him. “Very beautiful indeed.” 

Your heart thumped wildly as the tip of your nose brushed his, and you would have crumpled into his well-tuned act of seduction if it were not for one burning question suddenly on your mind. 

“How do you do it?"

“I- do what?”  

“Elves don’t sleep, right?” You said, blinking curiously. “How do you... not sleep?” 

“We uh... meditate, darling. Wait, how do you not know this?” he asked, pulling back with his eyebrow raised. “You must have seen me doing it at some stage or another.” 

“...I always just thought you pretended to sleep,” you hummed in thought. “Now that I think about it, the way you lay down was always kind of strange looking.” 

He snorted a laugh at your brutal honesty, and feeling a jab of guilt, you tried to back-track on your word vomit. 

“Sorry! Um… no offence?” 

"None taken, darling,” he said, waving a nonchalant hand. “I can see why my eloquent poses would look strange to you, but for elves, meditation is a common practice. Helps us to… calm down; be in the moment, as it were.” 

A comfortable silence fell between you.

“Could you show me?”  

Astarion gave you a questionable look. “You want me to show you how to meditate?” 

You nod vigorously and cross your legs with your arms resting on your knees to show that you’re serious. It takes you a moment to figure out which fingers were supposed to touch together but you get there eventually.  

With a bemused smile, the vampire shrugs. “Alright, I've had stranger requests.” 

You wanted to question that but put a pin in it for another time. 

"Are you ready?" Astarion asked. You nod, your heart fluttering with both anticipation and trust. “Now, clear your head.” 

You give him a dry look. 

He rolls his eyes back. “Yes, admittedly a little hard, what with the little residents living up there but just... trust me, alright? Close your eyes.” 

You complied, and Astarion began to guide you, his words soft and rhythmic, like a gentle lullaby. "Breathe in deeply," he said, his own breath aligning with yours. "Feel the air fill your lungs, expanding your chest, and exhale slowly, try to let go of any tension." 

You followed his instructions, your breath matching his like a perfectly choreographed dance. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a growing sense of calm washing over. 

"Thoughts may arise, like passing clouds," Astarion murmured. "Acknowledge them but let them drift away. Return your focus to your breath.” 

You found yourself navigating the currents of your thoughts with newfound ease, like a sailor guiding a boat through calm waters. The more you let go, the more profound your sense of inner stillness grew. You felt the weight of your worries begin to dissolve. The burdens of your leadership, of the mind-flayer tadpoles and the problems that came with it seemed to retreat into the distance, leaving you with a newfound clarity. 

"Good," Astarion whispered. "Now, focus on your body. Notice any tension, any discomfort. Let it go with each breath. Feel your body becoming lighter, more at ease." 

Minutes passed like hours, and the tent seemed to fill with an ethereal stillness. You and Astarion remained connected through your breath, it was as if time itself had become irrelevant, and you were both suspended in a moment of pure existence. 

You could feel the tension in your shoulders and neck melting away. It was as if the cares of the world were simply slipping through your fingers. 

Slipping... 

Slipping...  

“...Darling? Are you-? Oh.” 

Astarion’s eyes widen, and he winces a little when your head falls into his shoulder. He catches you gently by the arms, so you don’t slip and go face-first into his lap; it was a delicious thought but for another time, when you were conscious and ready.  

But right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with you. He certainly knows he can’t hold you like this all night; it would be uncomfortable for both of you. His eyebrows crease as he frowns while he tries to slowly lower you to the ground. 

To absolutely no avail; unconsciously you end up pulling him in closer. 

“Oh, for Gods's sake,” the vampire huffs incredulously. “What am I, some sort of glorified teddy bear?” 

Half-asleep and still nestled into Astarion’s chest, you mumble something incoherent in response, your breath warm against his skin. You snuggle even closer, your head burrowing into the crook of his neck. 

For a moment, Astarion felt a flicker of irritation, his desire for a good night's rest warring with his affection for you. He yearned to stretch out, to find the perfect position that would allow him the bliss of undisturbed meditation. But as he looked down at the peaceful expression on your face, all traces of weariness and anxiety erased, he just couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 

Reluctantly, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer still. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath, the slow, rhythmic cadence of sleep. The warmth of your body against his own gradually seeped through the cracks in his defences, and his irritation gave way to an overwhelming tenderness. 

In that moment, he realised that the inconvenience of being your living pillow was a small price to pay for the privilege of holding you close, of being the one you sought comfort in. As you drifted further into slumber, Astarion closed his eyes and surrendered to the serenity of the night, the gentle weight of your devotion for each other enveloping you both, anchoring him in the moment and reminding him of the beauty in life's simple, sweet sacrifices. 

xxx 

Yyyyyeah I know this one has the same beats as 'Everything's Fine' but what can I say? I'm a sucker for begrudgingly soft Astarion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know what y'all think!

Links to my other Astarion works

'Everything's Fine'

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

[wileys-russo]

please can you write a little fic about Leah’s beanie in her most recent insta post, like her gf thinking she looks cute and making her post a pic or taking the piss out of Leah for posting a pic in the beanie x

garden gnome II l.williamson

"god its fucking freezing!" you shivered, subbed off with ten minutes to go as your body finally cooled down from all the running, the brisk london air sharp as needles as the wind blew on and you collapsed onto the subs bench.

"thank you less." you sighed in relief as alessia handed you your puffer, the blonde sending you a smile as the two of you leaned into one another a little more to stay warm, lia joining in on your other side.

all three of you jumped to your feet buzzing with new energy as the whistle finally blew announcing your victory. "steffyyy!" you cheered loudly, jumping on the older girls back who stumbled but let out a laugh as you kissed her cheek and hopped down.

"if you play like that with jet lag we're sending you back to melbourne for the week." you teased as she hugged you properly. "puddin points are best cooked under pressure." caitlin flung an arm over your shoulder with a grin as she and steph high fived.

you were flanked by lotte, vic and alessia as you did your thank you lap, clapping to the fans as you caught your girlfriends eye in the stands, clapping up at her making her roll her eyes with a smile as she chatted away to ellie who gave you a wave.

"lovesick much." alessia teased, bumping her shoulder into yours as vic echoed her word making you stick your tongue out at them. "look at her all bundled up and in her little beanie, she's so cute i just wanna go and give her a cuddle." you sighed still looking up at her.

"oi! jealous much?" you pushed vic who gagged at your words, the force of your push sending her tumbling onto her bum as she glared up at you. "run." alessia patted your shoulder as you took off, a string of angry dutch following you as the two of you raced in laps around the pitch until she caught you and punched you sharply in the arm, the team all called in for a huddle.

"hello gorgeous." a pair of arms tightly wound round you from behind as you settled happily into the extra warmth, tilting your head back and smiling up at the older blonde. she stayed holding onto you as you all bunched up for the post match talk, her hands only moving to clap loudly as jonas finished up talking.

"mum wants to see you." leah mumbled with a kiss to your cheek, nodding for you follow her as you both made your way into the fast clearing stands. "amanda!" you grinned as the woman pulled you into a tight hug. "love you played brilliantly! even if leah wouldn't shut up with her personal coaching the entire match." she rolled her eyes as leah protested the accusation.

"oh i've no doubt once we're home i'll get the full debrief on everything i could have done better. gaffa williamson loves to come out after a win!" you teased, leah pinching your sides with a stern look as you only smiled, pecking her lips.

"try raising her, every single little thing gets feedback even if you don't ask for it. for someone who can't cook god she just loves to critisise everyone else who can!" amanda added on with a dramatic sigh.

"yeah i bought the wrong brand of ham the other week. should have heard how she moaned about it for days!" "used to yell directions at me and scream for me to go faster when i drove her to training every week, as if i didn't drive her there every week."

"right fuck off what is it pick on leah day! i'm injured here thanks how bout a bit of sympathy?" your girlfriend huffed, crossing her arms with a scowl. "oh sorry baby i forgot how sensitive you are. is everyone being mean to you?" you continued to tease, pinching her cheeks in your hands as amanda watched on fondly.

"you look so cute in your beanie lee lee, my little garden gnome." you cooed mockingly, smooshing her face in your hands as her eyes burned into you with a murderous glare. "gnome-o and juliet eh?" amanda grinned making you high five her with a cheer.

"mum! god don't fucking don't encourage her she's relentless." leah groaned, pulling you into a headlock as you smacked her stomach through the three layers she was bundled in. "you love it." she let you up and pulled you into a tight hug, her arms curled around your neck and resting on your shoulders as the two of you chatted with her mum for a bit.

"oh i need a photo before i go! to mark the win." amanda was about to leave as she perked up, pulling out her phone as she tucked herself in beside you, leahs chin resting on the top of your head as the three of you smiled happily and amanda took a few selfies.

"beautiful. i'll see you both round for dinner yeah?" she reminded firmly as you nodded. "yeah we'll be round after five mum, i'll pick grandma up on the way." leah confirmed as amanda beamed, hugging you both goodbye as the three of you descended from the stands.

you and leah hung around for another half hour chatting with your team mates, cuddled into one another the entire time as you battled the ongoing teasing from your team mates, both claiming you were just keeping one another warm.

"what are you doing now?" leah sighed as you both made her way toward her car and you dropped her hand, pulling out your phone and ordering her to pose.

"capturing the memory. i'm gonna start a little garden gnome scrapbook of all your beanie pictures, this ones disappointingly not as pointy as normal but you still look adorable." you beamed snapping a few photos of her as you reached her car, the back lot where the players parked basically almost empty.

"leah!" you laughed as she huffed and yanked off her beanie, hair tied back into a low and loose bun as she pulled her hood up and advanced on you. "hi baby." you grinned as she pushed you against the side of her car, smile tugging at her lips as her arms caged you in.

"lee!" you laughed again as she tugged her beanie down over your head, covering your eyes and attacking your face with kisses as she held the material down on your head and you struggled to push her away.

"whose the little garden gnome now?" leah sung out, flipping up the edge of the beanie so your eyes were free to meet hers, the blonde giving you a dazzlingly bright smile. "still you, you've got the pointy cone head not me." you shrugged, tapping on the top of her head as her mouth formed a small o of offence.

"what am i going to do with you?" leah tutted, shaking her head with a sigh. "kiss me and never stop." you whispered, hands grabbing the sides of her hood and pulling her mouth to meet yours. though before anything got carried away she gently intertwined your hands and pulled away.

"oh just you wait till we get home cheeky girl."

[fourmoony]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟐)

james potter x f!reader

fluff. 1.4k

Summary: James, Sirius, and Remus are bested by Hope.

part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - masterlist

...

James is standing in the middle of the chaos surrounding your living room.

You’re just short of thirty seconds through the front door – the majority of which you spent kicking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack – and already, you miss the inside of the potion’s lab. You’ve been there all day, daydreaming about being at home. But now. Now, you wish you’d stayed behind with Lily. She’s high maintenance, sure. She’s bossy and full on about it because she’s currently heading the Order’s potion’s labs all over the country – she’s stressed. But Lily Evans is nowhere near as high maintenance as your boyfriend and his friends.

This, you should have known.

Remus and Sirius are bickering loudly over the sound of Hope’s high-pitched screaming. Remus is holding Hope, arms outstretched and a concerned look on his face, like he’s hesitant to have her near her in her current state. He looks panicked. Sirius is trying to strong arm your daughter into a nappy, but she’s kicking her legs so violently that you know he has no hope. He mutters something at Remus, but his voice is cheery and soothing – you suppose in attempt to keep Hope from getting any more violent. Remus huffs and tries lifting your screaming baby up, then down, as if bouncing her. She only cries more.

There are crumpled nappies scattered across the floor and a small bag of what you assume is used wipes – you’re thankful that at least those have been disposed of in a clean way. The fire is roaring, covered by the grate, and the room is far too warm – even for the middle of January. There are bright coloured toys on every surface and a kid’s broom taking up space on the single armchair nearest the kitchen. There’re half drunken milk bottles on the coffee table and half a jar of mashed potato and gravy puree, the spoon of which is sitting on a coaster, still covered in mush.

James’ eyes snap up the minute he nears your shaky intake of breath, and everything stops. His hands are full of a mix of crumpled nappies and baby toys, and his eyes are wide. His hair is messier than usual, a clear sign that he’s been running his hands through it in a fit of stress.

“Hey,” James breathes.

Remus and Sirius have frozen like children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. You bypass your boyfriend, eyes narrowed at Remus, who turns from Sirius and thrusts Hope toward you. You take her and immediately, she quiets. You hold her to your chest, hand gently rubbing the back of her head. Remus and Sirius physically release, both letting out a deep breath. James closes his eyes, enjoys the silence for a moment.

“James, pick up the nappies. Outside bin,” You point at James, and he springs into action, nodding enthusiastically, “Remus, toys in the box,” You point to the pink box Sirius made Hope that rests to the right of the fireplace, “Sirius, wash the bottles, and bin the puree.”

The three men spring into action around you while you mentally thank Lily for being so bossy and rubbing off on you. Hope is making quiet noises against your collar bone, and you melt. She’s ten months now, crawling and babbling non-stop It’s been challenging, balancing your work in the potion’s lab with James’ order missions whilst still being able to spend time with Hope together. James is absolutely positive she’s defying nature and biology and growing too fast. But you don’t mind. You’re in constant awe of your daughter and all the milestones she makes. You’d never admit it, but you cried the first time she crawled.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You mumble, lips pressed to Hope’s head.

Her hair is growing fast and dark. There’s enough to put in pigtails, now. She doesn’t have any in today. Simply because James cannot comprehend the idea of a hair tie. Hope tilts her head, bright blue eyes no longer filled with tears, but with wonder. It’s been seven months of being her mum, and your breath still hitches every time she looks at you with that babied wonderment, with that unwavering love and trust. She’s so beautiful, a gift you wonder every day what you ever did to deserve.

“She’s been a moody little witch, today,” Remus comments, launching crinkle books and teddy bears into the pink trunk as he walks around the room.

“She’s teething, I think.” You tell him.

You shift hope in your arms and reach for her nappy bag that’s been abandoned by the doorway into the living room. She wriggles a little when you set her down onto the changing table under the window – the changing table James has said he’ll take upstairs a million times and never has – but settles when you start to hum softly. With a clean nappy and a fresh set of pyjamas, Hope is a different baby. She’s calm and quiet, pliant in your arms when you lift her again to cradle her. Her eyes blink slowly, tiny lips pouted.

James and Sirius return at the same time, the latter wiping down a fresh bottle with a tea towel, collecting any spillage. He turns it over, dropping a bit on his wrist before passing it over, “Perfect temperature.”

“Thanks,” You sit on the suite – now void of any and all toys – and hold the bottle to Hope’s lips.

She takes it greedily and you smile. James presses a kiss to your head before taking a seat beside you both. His hand rests on your thigh, his attention taken by your little girl. Sirius takes a seat on the floor in front of you both, a gentle finger running up and down the bottom of Hope’s foot. She wriggles, gives his hand a little kick and he laughs. Sirius has been obsessed with Hope since the minute he saw her. He’s the best uncle. He spoils Hope beyond belief and loves her as fiercely as you and James do.

Remus required a little convincing. He loves Hope. It’s obvious in the way he reads to her, in the soft voice he uses when he talks to her. But he’s hesitant. Sirius reckons it’s because he’s scared of hurting her with his heavy hands and lanky limbs. You know he never could. He’s sitting across the room, twirling the toy broom in his hands while he sits in the armchair.

“You better not have put her on that broom, Sirius.” You warn the boy at your feet.

He makes grabby hands for Hope now that she’s settled, and you pass her over gently before relaxing against James. Sirius stands slowly, carefully, and makes his way over to Remus, sitting down at his feet instead. They enter their own world, softly cooing at Hope and watching her as she drinks the milk. Remus runs a gentle hand over the top of her head, and another hand across Sirius’ shoulders. You smile.

“Today was hard,” James speaks quietly, fingers playing with yours on your lap.

“I can tell.” You tease.

James huffs a laugh, “I swear it wasn’t even that bad until like, twenty minutes before you got home.”

You know very well James would have tried to keep the house as tidy and calm as possible for as long as possible. He’s a good dad. He’s got a good touch with Hope. She settles with him every time. But he also gets overwhelmed easily.

You eye Sirius and Remus. They’re so calm. So, content.

“I hope they have this, one day.” You whisper, eyes looking up at James.

He’s as beautiful as the day you met him. But he’s older now. There’s stubble on his jaw, a result of his busy schedule. His eyes are a honey hazel that makes you melt, and he turns to look at you with so much love and adoration that you can’t do anything but lean forward and kiss him. His answer is delayed by the wide smile he gives you. But it comes with a faraway look that you assume is a yearning for Sirius and Remus to have everything they could ever dream of.

His fingertips brush up your arm, his warmth encompasses you. You feel content, willing to forget how horrible the world outside your home is.

“I hope so, too, baby.” He mumbles, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

Sirius laughs when Remus flinches because Hope grabs his index finger and hangs on for dear life. They share a smile a second later, and Sirius rests his head on Remus knee, both of them staring down at the beautiful little girl in Sirius’ arms.

“Love you.” You tell James.

He squeezes you, “Love you, too.”

[geevesthevieve]

Deleted scene/alternate opening from "Back to Back" ch. 2

The times when his brain betrayed him by flinging him back into that hell begotten warehouse were always at the worst possible moments.  

It started with him removing his helmet, which was also horrid timing. The filters had a nasty habit of clogging if not regularly cleaned out, which caused the thing to overheat. He’d been sweating as the stuffy air practically had him choking for the past ten minutes. So he’d taken the first opportunity he could and unfastened it, tucked it under his arm, and took clear, blessed breaths… Or as clear as one could at an old, musty factory left to decay with the useless ‘Keep Out’ signs doing nothing for the homeless and the addicts just trying to stay out of the cold or get their fix in peace. Clearing them out while they’d been doing a sweep for the latest wannabe supervillain’s traps that she’d left around this side of town had taken way too long and now Jason just really wanted a cigarette.

Then he heard the beeping. 

Maybe it was the tone or maybe it was how it started soft and got louder and faster with each tick. But Jason’s heart-rate followed suit, ratcheting up.

His vision darkened around the edges and the crumbling plaster and chipped stone became desiccated wood where he was barely managing to drag his mangled body across the floor, his shattered bones shifting as they scraped along the warped, splintered surface. Every fiber of him screamed. His mouth filled with the coppery tang of blood, shaping around nonsensical words that had probably been some pointless desperate plea to anyone that might be around to find him. 

The only reply he got was the ever increasing beeps.

“Hood! Get down!”

Louder and louder, high pitched, grating down on his ears. More insistent like it wasn't the only thing pulsating through Jason at that very moment…well, there was always the laughter. The maniacal laughter and the thud of metal against his ribs. 

It was going to stop soon and then the burning would envelop him. Blisters would form and burst in a matter of milliseconds. His eyes would melt and the world would go dark, but the lightless fire would continue to devour him. It would be fast, but it would take eons. 

“Jason!”

Then he’d be gone again.

Something hard slammed into his side, knocking him behind a pillar, right as the last beep sounded, and the blue and black figure that had shoved him to the ground blew past him as the bomb exploded.

It was bright and hot just like before, and then there was nothing.

Nothing.

Then… 

Ringing.

Piercing ringing replaced everything else, rattling against his skull, making him tremble. Jason blinked hard and coughed as more dust and smoke filled his lungs. He waved his arms in front of him and rammed his elbow into something hard, sending a tingling shockwave through it. He cursed, but his tongue tasted like chalk and dirt. He also was aware that he hadn’t even heard his voice when he’d spoken. 

Pushing past the raucous coughs, and spatting out the powdery taste in his mouth, he managed to somewhat settle the hard thrumming battering against his chest. The constant chiming continued going strong against his eardrums. He clapped his hands over the sides of his head and waited until other sounds started to wash the ringing further back. Then he opened his eyes again, letting them adjust to the new darkness. He squinted around for his helmet, but it was nowhere within his current view. There were only fallen columns and the crushed rusted machinery from whatever had used to be assembled here. 

Jason slowly eased himself up, dodging around the cracked pillar he’d been sheltered by, and gasped as a sharp pain shot up through his abdomen, along with a harsh creaking from his ribcage. His clanging head pounded, and the air hit an open wound at his scalp. He brushed his fingers along it and stared blankly at his bloodied hand when he brought it back around.  

He’d just had to take his helmet off.

Blinking hard, he again tried to do a scan for it in the rubble. It had his comms in it. He hated the little earpieces that went directly in his ear, but he was regretting not having one as a back-up. He needed to let the others know what had happened. Most of the bats were on the other side of the city. It had just been him and—

An icy wave poured down Jason’s back.

“Oh, shit.” He stumbled. He wasn’t sure if it was over some debris or just from his still spinning head. He just managed to catch himself on an overturned conveyor-belt—or what once might have been a conveyor-belt. He barely took the moment to clear the lingering vertigo that had his stomach flipping over too. Bracing himself on his elbows, his eyes raked over the landfill of a factory with much more fervor, the cold flooding through his veins with the force of a burst dam. “Dick!” He yelled out into the dark—screwing protocol. 

There was no reply.

Jason's heart thudded loud again, warring against the remnant ringing. There was enough awareness in him to recall his brother slamming into him. Dick might have actually been speaking to him before that, probably shouting at him to move or something before he’d jumped into action. A blur of the Nightwing suit being flung away seared across Jason’s mind’s eye.

“Dammit.” His chest rose and fell too rapidly. “Dammit!” Shoving himself off the conveyor-belt, he staggered over in the direction he thought he’d seen Dick fly.

---------------------------------

---This is just what the title says. It's from my fic "Back to Back". This was initially how I'd started the second chapter, but I realized it wasn't paralleling the first chapter like it was supposed to. So I scrapped most of it an kept some of the pieces. It's not much different. I just sort of skip this part and summarize it in the actual fic 😁 But I was going through a few things, while working on a few other new fics (I really hope to be able to post soon) and found this. So... figured I'd post it for fun!---

[dreamyvill]

Heart stopper

Angst no comfort

Not proof read

Everything went wrong so horrifically wrong, everything else horribly wrong, felt wrong the air that had been pushed into your lungs replacing the air that had been knocked out of you when you realized you’d been ambushed and the comms had been intercepted and he couldn’t hear you. How you heart was so erratic you’d bet it had to rock it’s self and count to ten to calm down after everything had settled. All the air that passed thought shallowly after you’d made your choice. Bold

Now here you were aching and screaming at the top of your lungs at the man you’d die for at any minute it didn’t matter. “fucking answer me” you said calmly trying to soothe your aching arm and heart. This felt like when you had did somthing bad and you thought someone knew and you were just waiting for the shoe to drop the anxiety you felt at the bottom of your heart and to the tops of your soul and being in every form it could possibly take.

Silence. It was infuriating “fucking answer me now” you screamed your sweet voice now high pitched and bare utterly agnostic on the eyes of everyone. Good you wanted him to suffer as you heart is…

“Luv’ m’trying to help” Simon bowed his head scared not from a physical threat or anything like that, scared of your tone you’d never spoken to anyone like that before not when you were barking orders at subordinates and not when interacting with the enemy for information. He’d much rather those voices than this. “Then fucking answer me then! Are you in love with Her”.

Bitter

“Love m’sorry” he tried to plead with you it felt like a firefighter trying to talk someone down from a cliff after the ink dried on all there notes stamped and in route. “Yes or no” you sour voice asked eyes narrowed and soppy. Hoping a quick nod would free him a swift yes of the head stepping forward trying to touch you. Bluntly stepping back chest rising and falling hard.

“Why? And don’t give me no bullshit about how you can’t help who you fall in love with that’s bullshit!” How could he love her she’d done nothing toe arm his love she wasn’t there for him how you were.

“She- she what huh what the hell did she do to deserve that?” You interrupted her was taking too long and it was pissing you off like he had a long list of reasons he was considering. “Please I don’t want to hurt you” he pleaded he never begged like this. “Mission failed bitch what is it huh” you needed a reason and he was stuck.

“She wasn’t there for you, she wasn’t the one who stood by you through the last ten months, the night terrors the ptsd. You didn’t fuck and make love to her for seven months straight sleeping next to her, waking up with her breakfast all that shit.” Did you mean nothing to him did all of that mean nothing.

“I would die for you I just took a fucking bullet for you, not because I had to but because I love you that’s not nothing there aren’t many people who would do that for love.” You had just jumped in front of a bullet to save him to make sure he didn’t die in the face of the enemy.

The coms had been jammed and there were more and more people approaching him, in a stupid act of love you raced over to his aid to see him down but fighting as well as fading into death. Fighting for him, beside him ready to give your life to save or die with him once the gun smoke cleared and you drug his limp body on one good leg and shoulder to the evac site shedding tear after tear for him praying to a god you were sure had domed you years ago. Pleading with him not to fade away in your arms an “I love you” on the top of your tongue when he asks for her.

“it’s everything” he whispered hearing how your heart broke right in front of him love gone like he had almost been.

“I hate you Simon”

[annefolklore]

WAIT WAIT WAITTTT. BESTFRIEND!ETHANLANDRY X READER BUT HE GETS HER PREGO AND HE LIVES AND BEGS TO BE FORGIVEN🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽I BEG

yes its me. the one who wants more, but my birthdays in 2 hours tho (may10) SCREAMING

“Please”

Pairing: Bsf!Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Possible spoilers from Scream 6, use of Y/N, D/N is for daughter’s name

Synopsis: Ethan and you were friends with benefits until he reveals his true identity. Even after all this, he survives and begs to be apart of the baby and your life

It’s been a year.

A year since you last saw his face. A year since everything crumbled apart around you.

It all happened so fast but so slowly at the same time. One moment you guys were in his bed making out and a second later, you were in the shrine while Ghostface was taking off his mask to reveal curly brown hair.

You didn’t want to believe it at first, thinking it was all a nightmare because why would your bestfriend with benefits be behind all this mess? He looked at Tara and Sam first and when his eyes laid on your face, his cruel expression softened for a few seconds like he was apologetic before getting back to his cruel self…But it all looked fake.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. Bawl your eyes out as you asked yourself a single question.

“Did he wanted to add these benefits only to take advantage of me before killing me?”

This question haunts you day and night ever since discovering who was behind the mask-

A high pitched cry interrupted your thoughts and you sighed as you stood up from the couch.

After you had rocked her in your arms for what seemed like an eternity with her cries echoing in your ears, she had finally found again some sleep, but still kept her in your arms.

At one point, the doorbell rang throughout the appartement.

You quickly walked toward the door. It was probably Chad, Sam or Tara

“Hi-" you begin but the greeting die in your throat as you immediately recognize who was at the door.

That wasn’t Chad, Sam or Tara…no it was an undead.

He haven’t changed much except for his hair that got a bit longer and his gaze wasn’t as innocent as it pretended to be before. Now it was dry without an ounce of joy…until he laid eyes on your daughter

Our daughter.

Did he noticed how much she looked like him? She has the same tuft of curly hair, same eyes, nose and the same smile that could make anyone’a heart melt.

“Good evening Y/N” he greets you and tried to make a soft smile.

It’s like you snapped out of my trance and everything that happened twirled inside your head. Anika, Quinn, Gale, the core 4. Every memories came back like a tsunami of thoughts.

“Stay back” you muttered as I walked backwards.

Your hold on D/N increased a bit and he noticed the way your hold her even closer to you. His eyes were filled with an apologetic and ashamed look.

Ashamed of himself.

“Please just listen to me” he begs as he takes a step toward you.

You didn’t stop walking backwards as my head was making the “no” side over and over again until your calves touched the couch.

This couldn’t be real right? This couldn’t be happening right now.

“I know I fucked up and you have every reason to hate me…but please just listen to what I have to say” he says again with a pleading look in his eyes.

He hesitated. You couldn’t risk D/N safety around someone like him, but curiosity got the better of you. Telling the core 4 about his return would be a mistake too, because they’ll kill him and you’ll never know what he wanted

So you made the safest option and you let him enter your appartement. It was like letting the wolf enter the lamb’s home.

Your index pointed the couch and he sat down as you demanded him to. Meanwhile, you went to your daughter’s bedroom to put her in her sleeping self in the crib.

If his intentions were still wicked, at least she wouldn’t be in the same room and you prayed he wouldn’t hurt her after killing you.

“You have ten minutes” you acknowledged him and sat at the opposite side of the couch.

“Thank you”

Ethan found the need to say that before beginning anything. You made a small nod and he began talking.

“First of all, I want you to know that I never wanted to do all that-" but you interrupted him.

“But you still did it Ethan! You lied and-" this time he interrupted you

“Please let me speak” he said as he sighed. “I did all this so my dad could actually find me interesting. Ever since I was a child it was always Richie, the perfect son. The one who got all of my dad’s attention after my mother died. If it wasn’t him that was being praised, it was Quinn. She’s the first daughter and the oldest twin. Quinn has always been a daddy’s-little-girl and she became the favourite child after our brother’s death.”

He explain. Ethan took a deep breath before continuing.

“But what about Ethan Bailey? I was only the youngest, the baby of the family that nobody acknowledged. After Richie died, Wayne started treat me like Richie and I enjoyed the sudden attention…until he asked me to be a Ghostface. I hesitated a long time, but accepted because I thought that if maybe I did like Richie he would love me more”

You were speechless as he spilled all this at you.

“But you came along and we began our benefits relationship- and oh you don’t know how much I hated myself at this time-" but you interrupted him again

“This doesn’t explain how you survived and found me”

He almost chuckled at your eager of answers, but this wasn’t something to laugh at.

“The tv only hit my head, but it didn’t damage anything, it only made me black out for a few” he explained “Fortunately, I woke up the same moment cops showed up and I successfully slipped through their fingers”

He hesitated before continued his story. “Now you’re gonna find me weird” he sigh

“I already find you weird, just say what you were about to” you say

“I found where you lived because I looked for you and the core 4” he spited out

“You stalked us” You say more as a statement than a question.

“No I looked for you, I didn’t stalk you…and if I didn’t I would’ve never found out that we have a daughter”

Ethan chose not to say that he followed you almost everyday to know that got where you needed to be safely.

A silent went in between both of you. You couldn’t believe what you were doing. Ghostface was right in front of you and you were having a cordial conversation with him. What would the others think?

“Can I ask you a question?” you breath out.

Ever since he got here, the question has been burning your tongue. He nodded and you asked it in a small voice “Did you agree to level up our friendship only to take advantage of me?”

He frowned at your sentence. He never imagined once that you would feel like that

“Y/N of course not. I’m not some kind of monster…”

“But I still don’t know if I can trust you Ethan…after everything”

Ethan pursed his lips together and looked at the ground. “Please, I will do whatever it takes”

“I don’t know…” you whispered and stood up as you sigh and he stand up too.

He made small steps toward you and when you didn’t pushed him away, he took your much smaller hands in his with a pleading look. “Please Y/N, you’re the only one I knew wouldn’t kill me if I shewed up”

“How do you know I won’t kill you” you say, attempting to scare him but it didn’t work one bit. You knew damn well you weren’t going to kill him.

“Please, I promise to never do anything stupid again” he pleads as he looked into your eyes.

His gaze was full of sorrow and regret while yours were uncertain. Ethan noticed how tense you were and did the first thing that came to his mind.

His knees soon touched the ground and he began the beg even more. “Please Y/N, I cannot live knowing you hate me. I accept the core 4, but please not you. You’re my best friend and I love you so much”

His voice was cracking as he spoke and his hands that were still holding you began to shake. “I even started therapy and I could get a psychologist too if that would make you happy and feel safe around me”

Tears blurs your sights as you listened to his promises. Maybe you should give him a chance after all…

“I’m so sorry for everything” his sentence full of his teary voice as he cried. “I won’t ever do something bad again. I’ll make you happy everyday Y/N and if you allowed me too I would make our daughter happy”

Your appartement was filled with his pleading and his cry and after all, the wolf was revealed to be as soft as a lamb.

———-

I hope you liked what I wrote for your request and happy birthday @scqr6m ! This was really long to write and I tried posting it yesterday for your birthday but because of school I couldn’t 😭And also you can choose the daughter’s name since I did this for your birthday.

This is unfortunately a one time thing, because I don’t want people to lie about their birthdays so I write them something. I did this for her because it was my first serious request so yeah

I hope you guys liked it and English isn’t my first language but I tried my best to make it make sense.

[hearted-anon]

Cosy evenings with Hyung

Words:1,035 Note: part 2 to 'clingy bread, happy ferret'. Requested by : @hearts444innie Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one @minnielvrr T/w: rough tickling Lee: Jeongin Ler: Channie

"Ah- Jeongin you're crushing me here! I know you miss me but…" Chan sighed, feeling the fox wrap his arms around the elder's arm so tightly he could feel the blood circulation being cut off. Despite managing to quite literally pry the vocalist off him, he instead decided to cling onto his leg like a dog, rubbing his cheek against the bare skin of his thigh. Squealing at the feeling, the leader pulled at his leg desperately, an interested Hyunibini duo watching on with growing smiles on their faces, quickly being replaced when Hyunjin began to chase the elder around the apartment with a threat for punishment.

"C'mon, let's… go- ugh!" Every time Chan found a way to deter the younger from attaching to him like an octopus, he always found another way to ruin that plan, and this time it was sticking to his chest like a cat that found its favourite cat tree. Succumbing to the fact he had to go back to dorms like this, he at least tried to make himself comfortable with a groan, a hand under Jeongin's legs and another opening the door to their cosy apartment, surprisingly spotless from the fact he left the youngest home for quite some time. But then again, he had snuck himself all the way to snuggle with Hyunjin, which the Aussie internally found so incredibly cute.

"Alright, now you stay there, I'll make dinner. If I even see you take one step towards me, you're getting it," Chan warns sternly, with no malice behind it however, instead having a wide dimpled smile. He knew Jeongin would've tried something either way, having slept for so long gave him enough energy to bounce around their dorm at least ten times. Just as he expected, it hadn't even reached two minutes with the Aussie reaching in for some spaghetti before his eyes locked onto the fox, who was hidden not so discreetly behind a kitchen counter, brown strands of hair peeking up to stare at him.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he didn't even bother with punishing the vocalist, hearing the loud screams and high-pitched cackles for mercy next door was already enough to put him in a bad mood to wreck Jeongin, but he knew better than to scare him off like that. After all, who didn't enjoy having a clingy Jeongin by your side? Having sniffed out the smell of bacon and Carbonara sauce, the younger sped over as if a pet to their favourite treat, mouthwatering and staring at the leader with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

Many, many grunts and carrying the maknae back to the couch later, Chan felt victorious! He had managed to make a good-looking dinner without burning down the kitchen with Jeongin's constant bothering by his side and even adding on a side of dumplings. To say they devoured it at the speed of light was an understatement, now both of them staring down the last piece of the savoury treat. Although Chan had originally intended to hand the last piece to the younger out of instinct, he decided to take a different route, untouching of the treat.

"How about you have it Hyung?" Damn it, now he felt guilty just staring at the fox as he pushed the plate towards him, denying it and pushing it right back at him.

"No, you have it, I'm full." Chan declared, pouting when Jeongin denied it yet again, not wanting to even lift his chopsticks towards the treat. Puffing his cheeks up, he pounced onto the vocalist, fingers wiggling against his sides without mercy.

"Nohoho! I-I dohon't wahant it!" The younger squealed, pawing at the elder's hands to no avail on the carpeted floor, only able to thrash in a futile attempt to escape. No matter how many times he protested, the leader could tell the maknae was indeed still hungry but couldn't even enjoy his meal without humility in his way. Oh, was Chan going to ensure he was the most spoilt baby ever to exist.

"You do, and you know what liars get? They get punished." Chan sternly nags, shoving his fingers into the younger's armpits, drilling right into the center. Poor Jeongin screamed at the top of his lungs, cackling as the sensations felt as if they were frying his body, clamping his arms in an attempt to protect himself; it came to no one's surprise that it obviously didn't do anything to help him.

"HYUNG- AHA- PLEHEHEASE!" The maknae somehow manages through wheezes of air, Chan smiling endearingly down at him. He really was too ticklish for his own good, seeing how they barely had made it to two minutes before his fists were pounding on the carpet, his entire neck flushed red and his legs quivering after making a failed attempt to dig a hole in the floor with his heels.

"Are you going to eat finish the dumpling there? Hm? No pushing it to me, no saying you're full because I know you aren't, no whining?" Chan coos, clicking his tongue in contemplation if he was being too harsh, not letting Jeongin whine was like a death sentence in their dorm apartment. Despite this, the vocalist nodded rapidly, tears of mirth welling up in his eyes the moment the five-minute mark in. With a sound of adoration, the leader let up, kneading his cheeks while praising him for letting his humility be put aside for once. Although Jeongin already looked like a real-life tomato, he somehow managed to become even redder at the praise, a faux frown pasted on his face as he pushed the leader away.

Safe to say, Jeongin did in fact finish his dinner with his cheeks full of dumplings, Chan having 'accidentally' made ten extra hearing the younger's stomach so much as to vibrate. But as he cleaned up the dining table, he felt as if hawk eyes were watching, staring at the hyperactive maknae that was glaring in his soul. With a giggle of endearment, he gently folded the cloth away, chasing down the fox all over again while squeaks and giggles echoed down the halls.

It always was fun spending your evenings with Hyung, right?

[dp-marvel94]

Borrower Danny

Summary: DPXDC. A teeny tiny Danny starts living in Wayne Manor

Word Count: 2,281

Also on A03 and Fanfiction.net

Warning for mentions of unethical experimentation

Danny races through the sky. His parents had… had found out and…. The flash of their angry, disbelieving faces. A net gun. Electricity. They’d captured him. They’d… they’d experimented on him. Needles and chemicals. Loud noises. Locked in a cage. They’d change the temperature. No light for days… then they’d never turned them off.

It. Experiment. Vermin. Creature. He was an it. A ghost. A monster. Not… not…

‘What did you do with our son?’

Danny shakes his head, flying faster. No. He escaped. He’s safe. But…

It hurts. Everything hurts. He’s free but… his core hurts so bad. It feels like it's cracking. He’s escaped but… no. He’s not safe. He’s just as small, as weak, as helpless as he was… there.

His core squeezes, a contracting shiver running through him.

What was that?! 

Danny nearly falls out of the air. Everything suddenly looks so much bigger! 

But he can’t stop. He has to keep going!

In his new tiny form, Danny stumbles upon a huge manor. He stops. No more. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He has to rest. This room is empty and bare. Just furniture. No clothing, books, personal belongings. It will have to do.

Exhausted, Danny passes out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny awakes to sunlight on his face. He stretches. He… actually feels a little better. He opens his eyes and…

Screams. But… that can’t be his voice?! Why does he sound so high pitched and squeaky?!

Danny’s head furiously turns, looking around. Everything is so big. Or… he’s small. Maybe five inches tall at the most. 

Frantically, Danny tries to turn back but the rings don’t even flicker. He tries again. A third time. And… nothing! Nothing! Apparently, he's stuck in ghost form, can't turn back, and all of five inches tall! How?! Why? Why is he so small? And how did he get here? What’s happening?

The boy’s stomach growls. And why is he so hungry?!... right. A pit forms in his stomach. It’s been… days? Week? Since he last ate. It feels like his stomach is eating itself. He’s so hungry… 

With some effort, Danny wobbly floats off the ground. Food first. Then… he can figure this out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s ten minutes before Danny stumbles upon a huge kitchen. (This… mansion? It must be a mansion… is so big. How many guest rooms are there?) The boy’s eyes briefly light up. There must be food here! With flickering intangibility, he phases through a closet door. And… it’s a pantry! So much food... 

Danny sets his eyes on a package of crackers. Something that doesn’t have to be heated up. And… sigh… something small enough for him to pick up. 

For several minutes, Danny struggles. “How do I get in this thing?” He mutters, frustrated.

"Allow me, sir." An older man with a British accent startles the small ghost. No hint of surprise on his face appears as he opens the package.

Danny just stares, frozen in surprise at the lack of reaction. But then the butler (?) holds out a crack. Numbly, the ghost boy takes it and disappears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny does a better job of staying hidden the next few days. That first slip was… embarrassing and dangerous. He’s lucky the guy didn’t squish him… or call the GIW. Danny shivers at the thought. 

The boy stays put for a bit, trying to think of a plan. But he can’t stay still, too filled with anxiety. He gathers scraps of cloth and other trinkets for his hidey-hole in the guest room. He might as well make himself comfy while he waits for his core to heal; maybe once it is, he’ll be able to turn human again and he won’t be stuck this small. His powers are spotty but he manages his task. 

Every day, Danny collects food from the kitchen. And to his surprise, he finds bits of food left out for him. Crumbs of crackers and cookies. Little bits of cheese and luncheon meat. Singles olives, tiny apple slices, slivers of carrot.

Several days pass with no improvement with his core. Danny follows the same routine. Maybe he can find a phone and call Jazz? But, she wouldn’t be able to understand him, not with his voice so small. He needs help but… how?

His mind flickers to… the old british man, the butler. The food he leaves… it’s there regularly, the same time everyday. Clearly the man knows he's there and Danny feels torn. He needs food and he likes not having to steal it. He wants to take it. But… leaving any hint that he’s still there is bad. What else is he supposed to do though?

Stomach churning with nerves, he takes the food, only when the kitchen is empty. He stays hidden.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That is, until he sneaks into the kitchen to find the butler making a mini omelet. Danny watches curiously, transfixed. The older man finishes, placing the food on a tiny plate. Then... he looks up, to exactly where Danny is hiding.

"Good morning, young master." He holds out the plate.

Danny hesitates. The man’s seen him. He knows he’s there. He’s… known this whole time… He shouldn’t respond. If he doesn’t move, if he’s quiet, maybe the old man will give this up. But… 

This determination and care. The butler had been putting food out for days. He made this omelet perfectly sized for him. It looks so good.

Danny steps out of his hiding place and floats down. He takes the plate and with a quiet thanks disappears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that, Danny lets the butler see him more often. He’s… he’s lonely. And the man… Alfred, he learns his name is… is so nice. He makes food for him and talks to him as if he’s just another person who lives in Wayne Manor (the name of this huge mansion), as if Danny isn’t a weird, tiny glowing floating boy who randomly showed up one day.

Alfred starts collecting doll sized furniture, setting it up in a corner of the kitchen. Danny studies it reluctantly. Food is one thing but… this is a lot. Can he trust hospitality like this? He can’t… he can’t let himself get comfortable. There’s Mr. Wayne and so many strange kids. 

The angry little kid with the sword who always had his dog following him around

The teen about his age who’s always drinking coffee and typing on his phone.

The quiet black-haired girl he saw dancing in the kitchen one time. 

The blonde girl with the purple hoodie. He saw her sliding across the floor in her socks to get a bowl of popcorn.

The man in his mid-twenties he saw backflipping through the kitchen.

And the towering man he only saw once, who oddly felt like a ghost…

So many people… can he let them see him? They’d… they’d definitely freakout. But Alfred didn’t… And that bed looks so comfortable compared to his pile of rags...

Danny sleeps in the bed. He takes and eats the food with less and less hesitance. And finally, he lets one of the other Waynes see him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the door to the kitchen slams open after school, for once Danny doesn’t run. He stays sitting on the bed, trembling with nerves.

The youngest kid almost stomps into the room, ever present scowl on his face. 

“Ah, how was school today, Master Damian?”

“As boring and tedious as ever.” The boy crosses his arms. 

Danny eyes the door. Maybe he should flee; the kid doesn’t appear to be in a good mood. But before he can act, the boy’s eyes turn to him.

“I see you’ve finally procured a figure for your display, Pennyworth.” His scowl softs, head tilting curiously. The boy steps forward, reaching out. “It's quite an unusual design.”

“Do not-” Alfred starts.

But the warning comes too late. Damian’s hand wraps around Danny’s small body, lifting the figure to his face.

“Hey!” Danny panics, flailing in the hold. “Stop! Let-” Unthinking, he bites down on the thumb pinning him.

“What!” The boy drops him unceremoniously. His wide eyes stare as Danny falls onto the table. “What is it?” He sounds half mystified, half disgusted.

“Not an it, Master Damian.” Alfred reprimands. “I believe you’ll find he is a person, though small in stature. And he is our newest manor resident.”

Damian’s nose wrinkles for a moment more, looking from Danny to Alfred and back. Then his face smoothed out. “My apologies.”

For just a moment, the kid looks almost uncertain. 

Alfred steps beside him, a hand on the boy’s back. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, Master Damian?”

Damian straights slightly, eyes fixed back on the small ghost. “I am Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne, his only blood son and heir.”

Danny snorts at the speech but the other boy either doesn’t see or chooses not to acknowledge it. 

“Who are you?” Damian asks, the curious look returning.

The ghost boy opens his mouth, his name on his lips. But… he closes it. Even if he did try to talk, the kid wouldn’t understand him; Alfred never has.

Instead, Danny bits his lip. After a pause, he hold one hand in front of him and with the other mimics the motion of a pencil.

“You write for something to write with?” Damian raises a brow.

The ghost nods. 

The younger boy opens his bookbag. He pulls out a piece of notebook paper and a mechanical pencil. After tearing off a piece of paper and breaking off a portion of the led, he places it in front of Danny.

The ghost boy kneels. Slowly he writes. He frowns down, studying his handy work. Then, he lifts the scrap.

“Danny.” Damian reads. “Is that your name?”

Danny nods.

Slowly, softly, Alfred smiles. “Welcome then, Master Danny.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One by one, Danny meets the other Waynes. 

Tim spots him one morning. With wide eyes, he looks in between his coffee and the small figure. He only stops once Alfred greets Danny with a good morning. The other teens turns to leave without even sipping his coffee, muttering about sleep-deprivation induced hallucinations.

Danny introduces himself to Cass while she’s making pancakes. He watches her dancing while mixing the batter. Then, he floats over, giving a shot wave and holding up the paper with his name. Cass makes him a tiny pancake and teaches him how to sign his name.

The next day, Dick comes to the kitchen, looking for him by name; apparently, one of the other kids told him. He brings a present- a tiny Nightwing themed blanket and something that is probably supposed to be a teddy bear but made of pom-poms.

A few days after that, when he’s off exploring the mansion, he follows the sound of laughter and meets Steph. She, Tim, and Cass pause their movie long enough for introductions and make a space for him in front of the tv. He snuggles on the offered blanket, gorging himself on popcorn.

Bruce. With a kind smile after breakfast.

Jason. On a rare visit to the manor and a disbelieving laugh.

Slowly, Danny gets more comfortable but the tension never quite leaves. He still can't figure out how to turn back into a human; maybe he can't at all and actually died in his parents lab. He still stuck small and communicating is hard, with his voice so high pitched and quiet. He manages with paper and mechanical pencil led. But what can he even say? How much can he trust these people with the truth?

But the Waynes don't push. They're patient and understanding. Danny has food and a place to sleep because of them. They let him watch movies with him, offer him presents. He almost feels safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Family dinner is a big deal in the Wayne household. Alfred spends the whole day preparing at least a dozen dishes. Danny would expect the man to be stressed with all the work but there is an air of happiness, almost excitement. The small ghost helps as best he can. But he feels a hint of nervousness; the look Alfred gives him isn't pleading but he can almost sense what the man is thinking, what he's choosing not to ask.

Danny has interacted with the Waynes one on one or in small groups of two or three. But the whole family... The thought makes his stomach churn but...

When Alfred carries plates and utensils to the table to set it, Danny carries his own tiny plate and utensils. He places them down.

The butler's eyes crinkle at the sight. Then he shakes his head. "Now that won't do, Master Danny."

Alfred brings the tiny table and chair, setting up Danny's own place at the table.

Dinner comes around. The family is all there and Danny is drinking it in. The delicious food,the hilarious shenanigans. There is laughter and yelling, Bruce sighing like the overworked Dad he is.

Something in the small ghosts relaxes, shoulders releasing their tension.

"This is the last roll."

"It's mine!

"Not if I get it first!"

All the younger members of the family all lunge for it, climbing over each other and batting each other way.

For first time since his parents captured him, Danny laughs. It bursts out of him, the sound high and giddy. 

Finally, something in Danny's chest uncurls.

A flash of light, a crash, and Danny is laying on the floor. The commotion abruptly stops.

The ghost boy pants, body feeling much warmer, heavier.... And bigger. His mind spins.

There is scrabbling. Seconds later, the Waynes all stand over him.

"Holy shit." Danny isn't sure who says it. "He's got black hair and blue eyes."

[itsclydebitches]

ok ok ok but imagine trent's daughter, Phoebe and Henry, on a playdate or exploring stadium together? Like how have these kiddos not become friends??

YOU'RE SO RIGHT, ANON.

Headcanon time:

During a weekend training Henry is visiting again, Roy's sister is sick so he's justifying the Best Uncle award Phoebe gave him last year (it's very glittery), and Trent's babysitter unexpectedly bailed. So they all trail into work with kids that day and Rebecca is like, "Excuse me this is not a fucking daycare."

She says this while giving them all a kiss.

Pheobe: "That's a bad word, Ms. Welton, you owe me a pound."

Henry and Phoebe immediately race outside to play with the team but Trent's daughter, who is both younger and has never played football before, is just the shiest little bean about joining in. Trent, expert in anxious parenting, is prepared to run damage control with her favorite coloring books but Ted holds him back and within ten minutes Phoebe is showing her the ropes while Henry is Very Seriously working to tie her hair back for her.

Henry: "Excuse me, Mr. Independent sir, but can I borrow another hair-tie?"

Trent: "... how do you know my name?"

Trent, internally: Wait. Mr. Independent isn't my name??

Trent, with shorter hair than in Season 2: "Never mind that. How do you know I have hair-ties?"

Henry, answering both questions: "Daddy."

[Trent.exe has stopped working]

Rebecca, shouting across the pitch: "Give her pigtails, Henry! There you go!"

So the crimmlet learns some football and Trent, after recovering from his Omg Ted Talks About Me to His Son panic almost sorta kinda cries about it. By this point the himbos are absolutely in love with the trio and would die for them, no hesitation. (Dani actually says this, which is mildly alarming for the kids). After some super secret techniques are shared -- Phoebe: "This is how you kick the ball into someone's face. Uncle Ted loves it!" -- they all decide that they should probably get some actual training done. Besides, Henry just brought up the West Ham game he went to and... uh...

Yeah. Best to scoot them on out of there. Unconditional love doesn't trump hatred of West Ham, unfortunately.

The stadium houses a team of pro athletes and a massive staff of sleep-deprived professionals, meaning that there's plenty of food to go around for lunch. Ted (childhood personified) and Trent (a domestic mess post-divorce) are both happy to let the kids pig out on snacks. A growled "Fuck that" from Roy sends them off to the kitchen downstairs.

Do stadiums have kitchens? No idea. Probably not. This one does!

Trent, carryout aficionado: "So... does anyone know how to cook?"

Roy: "Do I fucking look like I have time to cook?"

Trent: "This was your idea."

Roy: "Shut up."

Ted: "Hmm. I'm afraid I'm more of a baking man myself."

The kids have been sitting at the counter, heads ping-ponging back and forth as they watch their three guardians fail the basic task of feeding them. Luckily for their faith in adults, it's about this moment that the crimmlet remembers that this is Ted.

Biscuit Ted.

Did you know that Trent Crimm used to be in a band? A metal band? That for six months in college he rebelled in the only way he knew how - artistically - and screamed everything he was keeping bottled up inside until he learned to purge himself through vicious prose instead?

His daughter inherited his lungs.

A six-year-old's high-pitched screaming + the reverberation of a primarily metal space = Significant Pain. Ted's, "Holy moly, Ms. Banshee!" is barely audible and Roy just nopes out of the situation without a shred of guilt. Phoebe and Henry -- immune to loud noises in the way only children can be -- exchange a A Look over the top of the crimmlet's head. Because she's screaming for the biscuits Ted gives her every week.

Henry hasn't had his Dad's cookies in six months.

Phoebe hasn't had them at all.

Now the screaming is joined by Very Indignant Yelling.

Trent: "Ted just make them some fucking biscuits."

Ted: "Right because that's healthier than the vending machines!?"

But one sugary meal is worth saving their eardrums, so.

There's an immediate change in tune when Ted asks who's gonna help him lick the bowl. Instant peace. Baking with three kids is messy, to put it mildly, and Ted isn't entirely sure how flour got into Trent's hair, but it definitely has more white streaks in it than it did this morning. Without thinking, he reaches up to smooth some of the flour away, fingers dragging gently through a lock and brushing his cheek in the process.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x2]

Crimmlet, tugging his pantleg with little flour handprints: "Daddy can the biscuit man stay forever?"

Trent, voice strangled: "... sure, honey."

Higgins pops in to find an absolute disaster of a kitchen and the normally unruffled Trent with cheeks the color of maraschino cherries (what's that about?). After getting caught up on events -- what they're willing to admit to, anyway -- he gently informs them that he could have fixed the kids a meal not made out of sugar and butter. Ah well. Too late now.

Higgins: "Also, Ted, shouldn't you be coaching the boys?"

Ted: "I'm sure Beard has it well in hand."

[Hard cut to the team seated semi-circle around Beard. He's lecturing on the drugs they can take without tanking their careers. Many are taking notes.]

The one good thing about a sugar high is that the crash comes right afterwards. Pheobe managed to get the crimmlet on her shoulders and the three of them raced off to explore the stadium, burning with short-term energy. Trent is mildly concerned about them sneaking out, but Ted reassures him that there's security at every exit. You know, to keep any... uh...

Trent: Press out?

Ted: Not all the press.

Trent: Oh, so I'm an exception am I?

Higgins, still standing there, forgotten, thinking about the book Trent is writing and how yes, he's literally an exception??

Ted: Trent Crimm you are not only an exception, you are exceptional.

[Trent.exe has stopped working x3]

Higgins, internally: OHHHHHHHHH

Later, there is a brief moment of panic when they can't find the kids -- Roy: "Don't worry. I once lost Phoebe and she turned up in my neighbor's bathtub with a new haircut." Ted: "Huh. That there's a story for another time." -- but Will ushers them quietly into the storeroom where they're piled like puppies on a bed of clean laundry, fast asleep. Ted snaps a picture and immediately sends it to the Richmond group chat. The himbos all come running to see the wholesomeness for themselves.

Will, whispering: They're so cute!! ... wait, now I need to do the laundry again :(((

Dani: No. Do not. Their beautiful, sleepy essence will help us win games.

Will: ... weird, but alright.

Henry's getting a little big for this now, but Ted manages to lift him bridle style and gently presses a kiss into his hair. Trent tenderly picks his little girl up, hand cradling her curls.

Roy slings Phoebe over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She doesn't stir.

Rebecca sternly tells them that they're never to do this again, but also if she doesn't see the trio soon they'll regret it. Here's the ten pounds I owe Phoebe. Also there had better be some biscuits left, Ted.

Henry only wakes when they're back at the apartment, Beard flipping through nature documentaries while Ted kicks his legs up into his lap. Henry squeezes between the two of them.

Ted: "You have fun today, kiddo?"

Henry: "Uh huh."

Ted: "Hey, what's Trent's daughter's name anyway?"

Henry: "Oh... I never asked."

Beard tuts. "Why you wanna know so bad?"

Ted: "I just figure I should know his kid's name before I ask him out."

[Trent, twelve miles West, suddenly and without any warning getting hit with an absolute fuckton of feelings]:

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

While he is walking in the forest, skeleton gets kidnapped by a mama bear who now considers him her baby and refuses to let him go, attacking everyone getting near him. What will skeleton do to escape?

Undertale Sans - Bold to you to assume he wants to escape. He's having the time of his life, cuddling in the bear's arms, and it's the best nap spot he has ever found. No way in hell he's moving out of here, that's his new house. He's too comfy to move.

Undertale Papyrus - He's quite terrified and tries to not freak out, even eating raw fish to make sure the very huge bear doesn't eat him instead. He called Undyne while Mama bear went to hunt, refusing to leave to not hurt the bear's feelings anyway. He didn't expect Undyne to come to fistfight the bear, but somehow, it worked. Papyrus felt bad for Mama Bear and came back a few days after to give her some fish lol.

Underswap Sans - That's the first time he can ride a bear and the bear is actually willing to carry him. He's never getting down again, and he runs away with the bear, laughing like a gremlin, forcing everyone in town to run after him. It's the best day of his life.

Underswap Papyrus - He keeps fainting every ten minutes or so. It's too much for his brain. He's terrified, and every time he passes out, he hopes it's a nightmare, but it's not, and it makes him pass out again. He just wants to go home, he's begging the bear. He misses his TV, and his video games, and he swears he will never leave his room ever again. He's getting rescued by vet services who accidentally shoot him with a hypodermic needle while trying to drug the bear... Well, at least, he wakes up after a good night of sleep.

Underfell Sans - He bites the bear, trying to get free. Mama Bear takes that as his kid being rebellious, pins him on the floor and sits on him lol. Red is screeching angrily, trying to get free, but the bear is heavy and he can't do anything. He only remembers after three hours of struggle that actually, he can just teleport away. The next day, the bear is waiting in his garden. Red wants to cry.

Underfell Papyrus - He refuses to call for help because he prefers to die than be rescued by Undyne in this humiliating position. He tried to fight, but the bear is not having it and keeps blocking his attacks, somehow. So he gave up, just sitting in a corner, stuck. That's quite sad. Edge will be found three days later by the police, who don't understand why he didn't call them. Edge refused to answer to that lol. If someone mentioned what happened, he will fight.

Horrortale Sans - Oh well. He's behaving like a bear himself so it was doomed to happen. Though the caver is not very comfortable so Oak picks up the bear and brings it home to sleep in his room. He's so confused when Willow high-pitch screams to get the bear out of the house. He can't put it out, it adopted him??? He doesn't want to hurt the bear's feelings. That's clearly his bear now.

Horrortale Papyrus - How did that even happen, he's twice as big as the bear??? Willow is stuck against the bear, who holds him really tight so he doesn't leave. Except his back is starting to hurt, and there are all these chores at home he had to stop... Please? He needs to get home? He asks the bear if he can go now. The bear accepts only after he scratches her ears for an entire hour.

Swapfell Sans - It's humiliating. He called the police, but the police didn't know what to do so they evacuated the bear and him to the nearest zoo. Now he's a national attraction, everyone wants to see and interview the stupid skeleton who can't escape the bear enclosure. He needs a shower so bad. It's the worst few days of his life.

Swapfell Papyrus - He speaks bear now. He learned it while he was getting kidnapped. He can't wait to talk bear to Nox to makes him believe he's now possessed by a demon and watch him freak out. Other than that, he's pretty chill. He's kinda happy the bear likes him, it's making him feel special for once.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's horrified every time that filthy animal touches him with its filthy hands. He's cringing hard and he wants to get home to burn his clothes. He smells like a bear, and he wants to die. Why would the bear kidnap him if it refused to fight? He's not a plushie, he's the fearless general of the royal guard! Show him some respect already! He manages to flee after a few days, but he feels like he can never get rid of the bear smell. He's that close to burning his house.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - I mean, that could be worse. Sure, it's scary, but it's like a giant teddy bear and he's so happy he can cuddle it? He doesn't really want this moment to stop actually. He's comfortable, far from civilisation and Mama Bear feeds him, so... Maybe he was a bear all along and never knew it? He's for sure one now.

[imsososolesbian]

The Break

transmasc!Vannat x Fem!reader

Repost. Not stolen. Edited

Summary: It was the three of you until they left you

Word Count: 1985

You had grown up near the trailer park. Your parents weren’t rich, but they had enough to give you a good childhood. Every birthday you got at least one of the things you wanted. You still remember the day you moved into that small house.

You were four, and it was a bright summer day when your dad had pulled the U-haul into the driveway. You and your mother had driven up alone, with your father following you. Your mother had parked out in front of the house twenty minutes before your father had made it.

You had looked out over the street, seeing many other kids, some older and some younger than you. One who had stood out to you was a girl across the street, climbing a tree in her front yard. You had tried to run off to go talk to her, but your mother had stopped you, saying that you had to unpack and set up your bedroom first. 

It took you two full days to be able to go out and play. You had put your shoes on, and walked out of the house, the door slamming shut behind you as you ran out onto the grass of your front yard. Your eyes started scanning again for the young girl you saw days ago. 

When you couldn’t see her you got sad, but then before your eyes you saw a flash of colour, and you yelped in surprise as a hand was jetted out in front of you, “I’m Vanessa! But most call me Van!” 

You take her hand yours. You’ve never actually given anyone a handshake, and were a little confused why she gave you one. Nonetheless you gave her a smile and introduced yourself, “I’m Y/n. I just moved in.” And the rest was history. That was till two years later you and Van were at the small park in your neighborhood on the swings, just minding your own business when the both of you heard a high pitch scream and looked over to see two older boys standing over a girl. 

Van was the first one up and running over, and you followed after her. You had squatted down next to the girl on the floor and poked at her arm, and she looked over to you, eyes wide. You looked to Van, to see her arguing with the two boys. She stared them dead in the eyes, and finally after what felt like minutes, which in reality was only a few seconds, the two of them scoffed and walked off. 

Van joined you next to the girl, but she knelt. “I’ve never seen her before,” she whispers into your ear, and you nod in agreement. Said girl on the ground sat up, her knee was pretty banged up and she wasn’t even crying. 

The girl was scrawny. Her eyes looked blank as she looked between you and Van. Her hair was an unkempt mess of brown, falling just below her shoulders, and her two front teeth were missing.

She had thanked the two of you before she ran off, leaving you and Van in a state of confusion. Yet you and Van didn’t let it get to you and went back to the swings. 

Van and you wouldn’t see the girl for weeks after. The next time the two of you did see the girl was at the start of grade one. She was one of the only people late, and the only spot open for her to take was in the row you and Van were sitting in. 

The girl was quiet. She would make snarky comments here and there to other kids, and would answer when spoken to but that was about it. Over the course of the first week you and Van got to know her a bit. You learned her name was Natalie. 

By the end of that school year the three of you were as thick as thieves. Everyday the three of you were together. You three would constantly get in trouble, but it was fine because you guys would always have each other’s back. 

The three of you were close until you all started high school. Natalie and Van were still close, they had joined the soccer team together, and you would watch each and every game they had.

By the start of your grade ten year Natalie had disappeared almost entirely from your life. She was always hanging out with Kevyn Tan. It hurt you, not being able to see her. Though you still had Van. 

Van was still always there. The two of you had stuck to the same schedule of your grade 9 year. The two of you would join up after school, and walk to your house. By the time you both got to your house, the both of you set up on the couch and had an hour nap, before the two of you would start on any homework you had. 

The two of you would have supper with your parents and then you would say bye. It was simple but nice. It was the best part of your day, sure Nat wasn’t in on it anymore and you missed her but at least you still had Van.

You had Van around until the start of grade 11. By the second week of the first semester you noticed that you had only a bit more time with her. Every single thing out of her mouth after that week was always about this girl she had met, Taissa Turner. 

You didn’t try to get her to stay. You just let it happen. You knew she would be happy and that would be enough for you. 

The rest of your year wasn’t that good. You got good grades, but not much more. Most of the time you were in your room, you had read around 200 books in just that year alone. 

You had been nervous the day before your last year of high school but you were also excited, you would be able to get a high education and get a high paying job. You even had picked out your outfit the night before.

The next morning was chaotic. You woke up a little later than your set alarm. Your whole morning was thrown off. Though you did make it to your car in time to get on your way to school.

By the time lunch had rolled around, you couldn’t stand school. Your locker was somehow already a mess. When you had found a note on the bottom part of your locker and picked it up.

The person who sent the letter had just put two letters down on the page, so you had no real idea of who it could have been. Nonetheless you were going to meet them behind the school today. 

Lunch was the same as any other school year. It was most like last year when Van and Nat were off sitting with others. You always liked to think that just maybe one day they would come sit with you again and it would be like the old times, but it never was. 

Your last two classes of the day dragged by, each passing minute had felt like hours before the last bell finally rang. You had to fight through the crowded hallway to get your bag from your locker. By the time you were making your way to the door at the back of the school, bag on your back, the halls were far less crowded. 

When you had made your way to the back, there were two people who looked familiar to you. You had waited until the two had stopped talking and noticed you before you did anything else. 

The two finally stopped talking and looked over to you, both had huge smiles on their faces when they saw you, “Y/n!” the one exclaimed and hugged you tight. You patted the person on the back before you pulled away.

“So you were the two that put that note in my locker?” The two nod their heads, and the shorter of the two spoke up “Yeah. You didn’t see the N and V at the end of the note? It’s Van and Nat, Y/n.”

You stood there in disbelief for a second, before you glared at the two, “So now you think it’s okay to finally talk to me? You just left me and now you come back? What did your girlfriend drop you Van? Did your burnout friend leave you Nat?” 

“First of all, what the fuck?” Van says, “And second of all. Tai and I broke up on mutual terms, she has a new girlfriend.” 

Nat wouldn’t even look at you, “Kevyn ran off when I told him that I’m a transmasc lesbian so…” 

“We’ve only had each other. You don’t even pick up the phone when we call!” You’ve never heard Van raise her voice at you in the years of knowing her.

“Well you guys never call me!” you snap back, a look of pure anger on your face.

“What do you mean never call you? We call you every day? Your mom picks up and says you're out” Nat says, shoving her hands into her pockets. 

“I hardly ever leave the house,” came your rebuttal. You rub your hand over your forehead, a look of confusion on your face. 

“Okay so that means we’ve all been lied to. How about putting it in the past, yeah?” Van asks, a soft smile on her lips. 

“Yeah… so what have you two been up to?”

The three of you talked until the sun had almost gone down. 

“Oh yeah, Nat and I use he and him pronouns” Van had said as the three of you were on the way to your house. Nat was too busy lighting a smoke to say anything, but he did nod. 

You knew it was going to be a good night, the three of you together like old times. You had even promised to cut their hair for them.

It was 5 pm by the time you guys got to your house and you had Van take a seat in the kitchen, as you draped a big garbage bag over top of his shoulders. You had put water in a small spray bottle and started spraying it on his hair. 

You were happy to have the two back in your home. You missed it. 

“Ready?” you had turned on the clippers, and Van nodded. You had already cut off a good amount of hair to begin with kitchen scissors, Nat and Van were lucky you took that hair class. 

You left a bit of length on the top, back and sides of Van's head before giving him a mirror to look at. It looked good on him. You walk out of the kitchen for a second as Van looks at his hair and you come back with a thing of gel. 

You put some in your hands before running your hands through his hair, styling it nicely. “Perfect. You look spiffy.” Van smiles as he stands up and pats you on the shoulder, “Thanks. I like it a lot.”

Nat was hard to work with, he didn’t know what he wanted done. He kept changing his mind, until you told him to stop thinking and you’d surprise him with something he should like. 

You add more layers than you did with Vans, but still keep the hair short. You didn’t use the clippers on him, leaving a more profound shape. You fluff up his hair with your hands a bit before handing him the mirror. He didn’t get any gel.

That night you watched two backs walk away from your house, but this time, unlike the last, you knew it wouldn’t last and you would see them soon.

[rat-typewriter]

hi! i hole you’re doing good! when you get the chance can you do high school aged baseball player bill de brought x fem reader who plays softball headcannons? thank you!

Notes: Girlie im so sorry this has been in my inbox for like a year,,, but better late than never right???? also im not american so i have no clue what a softball is so this is based off of ten minutes on wikipedia

BaseballPlayer!Bill Denbrough with a SoftballPlayer!S/O

alrighty,,, so first off your school only has one pitch - so Bill first sees you while getting ready for practice and your team is finishing up training

Honestly he spots you straight away - not necessarily because you're any better than the rest of the girls, but because of how you cheer your teammates on any time they make a good hit

He finds it so endearing, seeing someone so openly kind and genuinely excited for their friends

Not to mention he thinks you're probably the prettiest girl hes ever seen but whatever

But he's s u p e r awkward so wouldn't actually work up the courage to talk to you for a couple of months

BUT THEN

it's late afternoon in May; he's waiting with his team for practice and your team is finishing up again

you manage to hit the ball into the chainlink fence and it jams into one of the gaps

now,,, your team has a strict "whoever touched the ball last has to go find it" policy (which has left you digging through bushes of brambles on many occasions) so there you were, half on tip-toe and half straight up CLIMBING the fence to try and reach the stupid ball

you could hear your friends laughing across the pitch and (although you loved them to pieces) you definitely shot them a few death glares

One time you turn and stick your toungue out at them, playfully shouting for them to fuck off

and when you turn back, you nearly jump out of your skin

lo and behold on the other side of the fence is the CUTEST boy you've ever seen, reaching up and pushing the ball back through

and when he looks at you with those blue eyes

asafsghadssdhj

let's just say you don't catch the ball when he knocks it out

you stare at him and you can feel blood rushing to your face

internally you're screaming at yourself to stop gawking at him like a weirdo and SAY SOMETHING

if the fence wasn't between the two of you, the space between you would have been too small to be socially acceptable

honestly you're both so awkward you probably would have just stood there forever, but sooner or later his team would notice him with a girl

"Shit, Bill's got game!"

the entire group of boys suddenly broke out into laughs, jeers and whistles

needless to say Bill was mortified

mind you,,, your friends were no better

every time you saw him after that, they would all start giggling and nudging you like maniacs

don't get me wrong, you love your friends to pieces,,,, but you could have killed them all

you occasionally bumped into Bill a few times after that: around school, sometimes in town - but your first proper conversation was while sitting on the grass outside school

Your team was practicing, but you were in trouble with the coach for flunking a maths exam - so she was making you sit out to study for this session

you stared at you maths textbook - lets be real, not really thinking about anything - when he came over

"M-maths, huh?" he asked, craning his neck to read your notebook

"Yeah," you smiled. "Gotta say though, it's just not adding up."

why in the world did you say that

seriously

worst joke ever (not me slandering a joke i literally just wrote down smh)

But it was the first time you had managed to make him properly laugh

he grinned and your soul more-or-less left your body

you chatted for a while after that, him helping with a few questions

but mostly just messing around and laughing

it was only when your coach shouted to you that practice had ended twenty-five minutes ago that you suddenly snapped back to reality

"Oh shit," you gasped, stumbling to your feet; shoving the book into your bag. "I gotta get home"

He stood with you, helping to pick up your pens and papers

"Sorry!" he smiled sheepishly (oh god that smile) "I didn't mean to make you late."

"It's not your fault." you grinned

Suddenly you realised, didn't he have practice now? the baseball team always came on after softball ended

you asked him where his team were and his face suddenly reddened and he admitted that there was no baseball practice that day

"Oh I get it," you teased. "You came all the way out here just for me?"

he didn't reply, instead laughing and looking away

oh.

OH.

"wait, seriously?"

he swallowed and grinnef again. "m-maybe."

"Well," You paused. "We should do this again some time."

And that is how you got your first date with Bill denbrough

((You went cycling))

[reigningqueenofwords]

That Kiss

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader

Part 7 of Welcome to the Family

It felt like you were choking as you gasped for air. Reaching in your pocket, you pulled out a lighter and panicked. You were in a coffin. Automatically, you screamed for help. Or, tried to. Pushing against the lid, dirt came down on you, taking what little air you had. You were forced to dig your way out, into the sunlight. Sunlight that you hadn’t seen in what seemed like forever.

Looking around you, every tree was lying on the ground. Not from anything man made, either. You picked a direction and started walking. There was one thing on your mind- find your boys. There was no telling what your death had done to Dean. Or Sam. There was no telling if Dean went back to his old habits, or worse.

You had no idea how long you walked in the sweltering sun, but eventually, you found a gas station. You broke in when no one answered, finding water, and food- eating as you piled everything in a bag. You had checked your stomach, flashes of your last moments hitting you. There was no evidence that it ever happened. There was something new, however. An odd burn looking hand print on your shoulder.

A high pitched nose pierced your ears, making you feel like your head was exploding. The windows and glass shattered as you hit the floor. This was like nothing you had ever felt before. And, just as fast as it hit, it was over.

The first place you went, knowing that he could help you hunt them down, was to Bobby’s. He’d be able to get you to them, to Dean, in much less time than it would take me. His face of pure shock, with a hint of anger. Not that you blamed him. Being a smart ass, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Surprise.” You smirked.

Next thing you knew, there was a knife aimed at you, and then you were fighting. You had to get him to stop, to listen. You were clutching the arms of a chair, rambling off anything about him that you knew that would get him to pause, and to think about this.

After all the tests, you were catching up like you’d simply been away. Hearing that the boys weren’t hunting together, you furrowed your brows. Why were they hunting alone? What the hell happened when you died?

Bobby helped you track down Sam first, him being closest. The two of you left that same afternoon.

Standing in front of a dark door with a cheesy looking heart on it, you were surprised to see a pretty brunette open the door. Okay. She was hot. A hot brunette. She asked where the pizza was and you raised an eyebrow.  “I think we got the wrong room.” You smiled.

“Hey is that–” Everyone looked towards where Sam’s voice was coming from. Your chest felt tight at the sight of him.

There was a long pause before anyone said a word. “Heya, Sammy.” The words felt foreign but right. Just like with Bobby, the moment you walked in, there was a knife aimed at you. There was a commotion, but when you come back from hell, that tends to happen. Bobby had him in quite the hold, letting him know that it was really you. That he’d done this song and dance before.

As that sunk in, realization washed over Sammy’s face. He pulled you into a hug, which you returned in kind, your hands gripping the back of his shirt.

Bobby drove his truck, while you and Sam were in the Impala on the way to get Dean. Your thumb kept brushing over where your wedding band had been. After about ten minutes on the road, Sam couldn’t stand it anymore. “Did you mean what you said?” He asked, glancing at you. “That night?”

You swallowed, giving him a small smile as you nodded. “I did, still do, to be honest.” Looking back through the windshield, you bit your lip. “Did you?”

He licked his lips, smirking for a moment. “Yeah, I did.” He told you. “That kiss has been playing on my mind over and over.” Sam admitted.

“So, what happens now? I mean…I love Dean. I married Dean.” The guilt hit you. “Did you tell him?”

Sam shook his head, reaching over and taking your hand. “No, I didn’t. As for what happens, why don’t we just wing it?”

You glanced at your hands, fingers laced together, before your eyes shot to his face, seeing his profile. “Are you serious?” Your voice was almost a whisper, despite the fact that it was only the two of you in the car.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve spent the last 4 months thinking about that night over and over. We watched you get ripped to shreds because of me.” Sam glanced at you. “Not just anyone would be willing to do that for someone else.”

Nothing more was said on your part, simply looking out the window, not taking your hand from his for the rest of the ride.

Sam and Bobby stood in front of you, hiding you from view of Dean’s motel room door. The last thing they wanted was Dean attacking you, knowing that he would regret it. “Sam? Bobby?” Came the voice of your husband, and you were nearly in tears at the sound. “What are you doing here?”

A smile graced Sam’s face. “We brought someone for you.” He told him.

Dean furrowed his brow. “What? I don’t need anyone, Sammy, I hit the bar when I need to relieve some tension, and I move on.”

They parted, letting you be seen. “I’m home.” You told him.

Tagging: @callsign-ember

[keneestorytimelibrary]

The Yard (Short Horror Story)

“I wish I didn’t pick up that fucker’s call.” I said out loud, as I flashed my torch towards the dark alley between the stack of shipping containers. There must’ve been at least hundreds stacked on top of each other, creating tall walls and an endless maze. I was supposed to have off today, but the guy who had this shift decided to quit at the last minute. There were rumors that other security guards have been seeing strange figures, and some have been attacked. Whoever quit last minute, must’ve seen something or been attacked. 

And now the rumors were playing with my head. Everytime I turned around, I would think I saw something creeping at me from the shadows. After starting ten minutes of my shift, I was just about ready to call my boss and quit. The other new guy was working the other side of the yard, and there was so much distance between us, that if something happened, we would not be able to hear it. 

I turned another corner, and I thought I saw another shadow. I let out a loud scream; if any of the other guys heard my high pitch scream, they would make fun of me for months. I was psyching myself out; every turn I made, I thought I saw a shadow figure. I needed to take a break, or else I was going to give myself a heart attack.

“Hey Bob, I need a cigarette break.” I said very quickly over the radio.

“Heard! Take one for me too!” I guess the night was pretty rough on him too.

I pulled out my stash of Marlboros, and grabbed the first one I saw. I lit it up, and took a heavy drag. If this was just the first ten minutes of my shift, then I will go through this new pack within a few hours.

“Hey Joe, I think I saw two figures over on the North end of the yard. But everytime I check, they are nowhere.” Bob said over the radio. The static was getting worse the further out Bob went.

“I thought I saw something too, but I think it’s just those stories they tell us getting the best of our minds.” I responded. “They should get dogs…”

And why didn’t they? They expected two men to guard this large yard with no additional help? What was this company hiding?

“Hey, stupid question.” I started. “When you applied to this job, did they tell you what the shipping containers were for?” 

The static on the radio was getting worse, and I had a hard time gathering what he had said, or if he even heard me. 

“...mon…big…he-” was all I heard, before static completely took over. It sounded like he was too far out. 

I continued smoking, enjoying the calm feeling it was bringing me. “They told me that it was not my concern when I asked. All they needed to know was if I could do my job, no questions asked.” The whole thing was weird, but I was desperate for money. I lost my wife, my home, and had to move far away. This was the only job that's hiring at a decent wage. And after everything that I had lost, I was ok with not asking any questions.”

I didn’t hear back from Bob, and after finishing my cigarette, I decided I was calm enough to go back to work. I went back to the South end of the yard, and continued my shift. After about twenty minutes, I heard the radio go off. 

The voice sounded like Bob, but there was something off. It was almost as if he was resisting the urge to laugh, holding back as much as possible. “This place belongs to the government.” Bob said, sounding more off the more he spoke. “They use this area as a holding spot for their failed “experiments”.” 

I was shocked; how did Bob know so much? I had so many questions… “What experiments were the government doing?” 

Bob’s laughter was obnoxiously loud. “Bad…very bad experiments. The kind where people played God, and created obscene, horrific, monstrous things. The kind where if the world knew what they were doing, even the Devil himself would be shocked.”

Bob’s voice was becoming alarmingly strange, distorted and angrier the more he spoke. “This place!” he laughed, “This place is like a trash bin for every monster they’ve created, and they’ve hired you foolish, fucking dumbasses to keep an eye on us! ON US! So many of you have died because we got hungry during the night!” 

My heart stopped; I felt something punch my stomach, draining all of the air from my lungs. “What…what do you mean by us…?” I asked, barely coming out as a whisper.

His voice was now completely changed. It was darker, and his voice nearly boomed through the radio. “Turn around.”