#and then i came home and ate dinner whoops

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart Chapter 11

On Ao3

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Y/N POV

After collecting yourself, you slunk out of the infirmary and went about your day. You had missed lunch time during your visit so Tate had thoughtfully brought you a plate. Marco allowed you to eat it this time under his supervision, not Thatch’s. You ate what you could and quickly left.

Walking around the ship you felt like everyone would know what had happened just by looking at you. You were blushing at random intervals when your thoughts turned to the events of the morning. Thankfully, it seemed to be a normal day of working and fixing the ship. You were busy as always, helping out where you were needed. During the late afternoon, you were brainstorming with Namur about how to fix some metal fastenings on the bottom of the ship. It was an interesting problem - well, for you - since you couldn’t go down there and he couldn’t fix the issue easily. You were having fun thinking of impractical solutions, including having Whitebeard quake the ship into the air. You were mid-laugh when you felt warm arms snake around your middle and hoist you up.

“Time to go,” said Ace, as he put you over his shoulder and smacked your ass lightly.

“W-wait, I was-”

Ace gave you a withering look and you slumped over his shoulder. Right, the rules. You didn’t want to see what punishment entailed, if this morning was a taste. 

“Where are we going?”

“Time to take a break.” He had walked you over to the side of the ship. “You can either go lay down in my room with me, or I thought it might be fun to go on Striker together. I’ve seen you watching me on it, it’s pretty fun.” You looked over the side of the ship, where Striker was tied. You didn’t feel like you needed a break, but you had been wanting to go on Ace’s boat.

“Striker sounds fun. But there’s only one seat. Where will I si-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Ace flashed you a gorgeous smile and said “let’s go!” He picked you up bridal style, stepped up, and hopped on the railing of the ship. Thankfully, at one point in your life you’d been a thrill seeker too, so you weren’t scared, just taken by surprise. He landed on Striker and lifted you up so you were sitting on his shoulders. “See? Don’t need two seats, you can always sit on me.” The stupid entendre still made you blush. He untied Striker and off you went. 

It was…fun. Really fun. Ace was incredible at maneuvering Striker - and you didn’t even feel the heat from his fire. He started sailing slowly at first, but you urged him to go faster and faster. Your hair was whipping in the sea air, and you both were laughing and whooping as Ace pushed the boat over waves. He held onto your legs firmly, you felt completely safe. It was exhilarating and reminded you of the rush you used to get long ago jumping from the cliffs of your home island to the sea below. Ace was exciting to be around - something you felt since you first met him.

But it had to come to an end, it was time for dinner. You realized while on your way back that you hadn’t done something just for fun in years. You were thankful to Ace for giving you that gift. He tied Striker back to the Moby Dick and was helping you off his shoulders to climb the ladder back to the boat.

“Ace, I want to thank you. That was a really good time. Thank you for taking me out on Striker.”

“Anytime. You deserve to have fun in your life too.”

You raised yourself up on your toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek before ascending the ladder. 

Ace POV

You were so cute when you were on his shoulders riding Striker. He loved hearing you laugh and cheer when the boat took to the air and came crashing back down on the sea. You seemed…happy for once. Not stressed, not worried, not working, just happy. He loved seeing you so carefree and relaxed. He wanted to show you that you could always have that feeling with him - with them - as long as you were all together. He had also enjoyed having you on his shoulders with his head so close to your pussy. It drove him wild the way you were saying “faster, Ace, faster!” and “Oh my gods Ace” and  “that was amazing!” He imagined you saying those same things in bed.

He was pleased with the time he had spent with you today. Unfortunately, between the three of the commanders, he was the one most often sent on missions and to varying islands. He enjoyed it of course, but was envious of the time Marco and Thatch got to have with you. He was elated that he was the first of his siblings you had initiated a kiss with without coercion. True, it was just on the cheek, but it showed your progress and growing comfort with them. 

He was impatient for his turn with you, but he and Marco had business to attend to. They had to go to a local island to get some record storage facility Izou had told them about. They were locating the Marines from the ship you were on, who had survived the shipwreck, and where they had been transferred. Marco had told Ace about what had happened to you, and Ace could barely contain his fiery rage. There would be no survivors after Marco and Ace found them. Well, after they’d paid for what they’d done to you, that is.

Y/N POV

Your anxiety grew and grew the closer time crept to dinner time. You didn’t know what to expect from Thatch, just that you had to eat dinner with him. You always liked his food, it was beyond amazing what he could create. It was just hard for you to eat around so many people. The mess hall was huge, built to accommodate hundreds of people at once. There were so many people, it was so loud, there was always conflict and commotion, you never felt comfortable eating there. You always felt like your head had to be on a swivel to make sure that nothing happened. It was just too overwhelming in the mess, and you didn’t like it there. Even though Thatch did come and eat with you, your anxiety felt like it took up half of your stomach. You knew you should eat more, but you always felt that you couldn’t. 

When the dinner bell rang, you went to the mess hall and stood by the door. You weren’t sure if you were dining with Thatch now or later or in here or somewhere else or or or or. You were pinching your fingers tightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped out of surprise, letting out a small yelp.

“Hey mami, no need to worry. It’s just me,” Thatch said, smiling kindly down at you.

“O-oh hi Thatch. I, um, just didn’t know what you wanted me to do? I didn’t know if-”

He cut you off, stating “don’t worry so much, everything is fine. We’re dining in the private room tonight. C’mere.” With that, he picked you up and started carrying you underarm. You were getting tired of being carried everywhere, but didn’t say anything for the time being. You were too worried about the dinner. 

He brought you to the private dining room, where one place had been set. You didn’t see another - wasn’t Thatch eating with you? He put you down, then sat himself down at the place setting. You looked around - was this a trick? His intention dawned on you as he patted his lap and said “come up, Y/N.” You had to eat in his lap? It was a little awkward but maybe you could ignore it and eat? You walked over to him and picked you up again and put you in his lap, facing sideways. He put his arm around you to stop you when you tried to turn facing the food. OK, so you were going to eat sideways. Not a big deal.

But then he reached for the fork, poked a tender looking piece of meat and brought it to your lips. You were aghast - he wanted to feed you? This was too mortifying. “Thatch, I can feed myself,” you said, trying to take the fork. He pulled it out of your reach, quirked an eyebrow at you and said in a cold tone “Can you? You don’t seem to eat much on your own.”

“I can, it was just a lot in the mess hall. You don’t have to do this for me.”

“So it was too much for you in the mess hall, and instead of saying anything, you just decided not to eat? Can you see how that would make me feel? How it made me look as the Division Commander? I even went out of my way to come out during meal time and you still couldn’t help yourself. So, no, I don’t think you can feed yourself. You’ve lost that privilege. Open up.”

With that, he brought the forkful of meat back to your mouth. You opened and he put the morsel in. While you chewed on the delectable food, Thatch kept talking to you.

“See mami? Wasn’t that easy? It’s hard for me to see you struggle so much. I knew the mess hall was unbearable for you. I wanted you to come to me with your problems, but you never did - it hurt me so deeply. So now, this is how meals will have to be for the foreseeable future.”

He brought another forkful of meat to your mouth and you dutifully opened. At least you were in the private dining room and no one could see your embarrassing situation. He brought you food by the forkful, and sips of water in between. He seemed to relish when you’d close your mouth around the fork. Thatch would also stroke your hair or rub your thigh while you chewed. It was uncomfortable, weird, and humiliating, but he was right about one thing. You did eat more. Because it was just the two of you in a quiet environment, you were able to eat more than you had since you boarded the ship. 

When you couldn’t eat anymore, you begged Thatch to stop feeding you. He did, and afterwards showed you the now mostly empty plate. He smiled at you and said “excellent job, see how well you did? You’re doing so well cariña.” You felt yourself preening at his words, even though it was just for eating some food. He wiped your face one last time, and set you on the ground. 

“I’ll see you soon. I have to finish up in the kitchens but I’ll come find you for bed.” 

Whitebeard POV

Edward Newgate was a man who liked to see his children happy. So when he saw that Marco and Thatch had found a little lady to fuss over, it made his old heart content. They were men who liked to protect and provide, and you gave them an outlet for that. He was also pleased to hear that you had taken care of Ace on the island. Ace, on the other hand, needed someone to help him with his way, and a pretty woman like you would make an excellent choice. When Marco brought you on board, he could immediately tell his son was interested in you. Still, he held his tongue. These kinds of things had a way of working themselves out. 

He saw you come up to the top deck, looking frazzled. Well, you always looked that way.  He did find you pleasant to have around the ship. His children welcomed you and sought you out wherever you went on board, in part due to your kind personality and gentle nature. It didn’t hurt that you had one of the most practical devil fruits he’d come across. It was amazing the amount of time, money, and supplies you saved them every day. No wonder the Marines had kept you. 

Marco and Ace informed him they wanted to kill the remaining Marines who had hurt you. He wasn’t surprised, and encouraged their mission. Those Marines would have wished they died in the shipwreck - those two were a ruthless duo. Especially when defending a little treasure like you. A pirate always wants to keep their treasure safe, after all.

[missusk]

have you eaten yet? (ArvenxReader)

Summary: You’re everywhere, always, helping everyone all the time because you’re as kind as you are strong. You saved the academy and you saved Paldea and helped him out too, what with those Herba Mystica, so Arven wants to show you how much he loves you give back in the way he does best! Everyone loves homecooked meals, right? So why can’t he spit it out so that’s why the words so often falling from his lips are

“Hey, little buddy! Have you eaten yet?”

Word Count: 6173 Warnings: Game spoilers Author’s Note: this was sprouted from shower thoughts!!! Oughgh I love arven!!!! Just thinking about what your little journey could be like from his perspective AND IF HE WAS FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU .but also has inner conflict bc this guy really needs a hug. please enjoy!! :) - missusk

Read here on Ao3

~~

“Have you eaten yet, Arven?” came a call from the lighthouse.

“No!” the child said enthusiastically, bounding up the dirt hill to his dear father. A Maschiff was hot on his heels, panting alongside the boy after their rigorous game of fetch-and-chase. The sun was beginning to set, with rays of gold glimmering on their toothy smiles.

“Well come on,” Dad chuckled. “Let’s cook together before I have to get back to work.”

“Okay!” Arven replied, giddy with anticipation in what he’d get to cook with his favorite person in the whole wide world. What would it be today? Pasta? Curry? It’s been so long since they last ate together, and now they can cook together too?!

“You didn’t peek at that new book, did you?” Dad asked from the lighthouse. Arven faltered in his run home. Whoops, he didn’t put the storybook away correctly, did he…?

“Uh-“

There came a chuckle, then a tousle of his hair as Arven finally reached the threshold of their small home. Arven clung with sticky fingers to his father’s dress pants in a quick apology.

“Well, that might’ve spoiled it, but let’s read from it together after dinner, shall we?”

“Okay!” Arven said through a now-guiltless grin, kicking off his boots as they walked together into the lab. “Can we have sandwiches?” He hoped that sounded like an innocent, totally random request, and certainly not inspired by a storybook he didn’t steal a glimpse of earlier that day when Dad was busy.

“Of course, my son.”

Those words were so seemingly inconsequential at the time, but as Arven sits drumming his fingers on the doodle-smudged desk, watching the second hand of the clock tick-tick-tick by, he only wished he remembered more of those seemingly inconsequential times. He heaves out a sigh – whatever, those thoughts haven’t gotten him anywhere before, and it’s not like anything would change by thinking about it more today.

“Phones away, please,” came Mr. Saguaro’s voice, interrupting Arven’s hazy sepia-toned memory like a shock of bright blue. “Before we begin class, I’d like to introduce our new transfer student.”

Oh? A new student in this part of the term? That was interesting enough to draw his attention away from missing his dad the hangnail he kept picking at.

Arven glances up, teal gaze meeting that of the new student. He immediately recognizes you as the very same student who took responsibility for that brute back at the lighthouse few days ago. So, you were a student here after all. Perhaps he should be keeping better track of you and Miraidon… but then again, what would that matter? Not like dad would care anything would be traced back to him if a weird looking robot lizard thing was suddenly crawling around Paldea. Lots of weird things happen in Paldea. If anything got back to him, he’d just say, that, like, 80 percent of the ocean was still unexplored, so that’s where it was from. Or something.

Your introduction is normal enough. You like Pokémon, are excited to be here, blah blah blah. Minus the innate talent you had for battling, you seem as average as the next person. Arven did notice your sweet smile, but brushed it off as easily as he would crumbs off his apron.

Well, whatever.

While a new student was seemingly inconsequential to the esteemed Uva Academy, you’d think the hallways had a mass outbreak of Combees with how the students buzzed with rumors about you the next few days.

“I heard she fell off a cliff before coming to the academy.”

“Well I heard she already beat student council president Nemona in a Pokémon battle.”

“I heard she took on Team Star on her first day!”

Even some of the academy’s teachers seemed to be whispering among themselves. While many of the rumors were stupid and mostly untrue from what Arven could tell (as he himself was well acquainted with being the butt of weird rumors) one thing seemed certain – this new student was quite skilled with Pokémon battles. Perhaps his defeat at the lighthouse wasn’t explanatory of his lack of skills, but rather a signifier of yours.

As the days passed and the academy settled into the term, Arven became less aware of the latest gossip and more focused on slowly connecting the numerous sticky notes and push pins scattered on the Paldean map on his dorm room wall. It had taken countless nights of coffee and research and more coffee, all until he was able to identify five locations mentioned in the Violet Book. The only real obstacle would be what the book called ‘Titan Pokémon,’ and with his ace being unable to even open his eyes at this point, he needed some help, fast. Thankfully, while cleaning up in the home ec classroom, another bout of whispers made it to his ears.

“I hear she claimed war against Team Star!”

“What, seriously?!”

Geez, this new girl couldn’t catch a break. He knew the annoyance of having a million rumors about him, so his heart went out to the poor transfer student.

“She transferred in at a weird time, I bet she’s just trying to get people to like her.”

“Oh, that’d make sense. Why else would you do something like that, if not for attention?”

Arven raised an eyebrow. A new, fresh face, wanting attention and affection in a scary new school? In a new country? With no friends and barely any family? Perhaps someone so moldable could help with his own little treasure hunt…

It barely took a day before catching you in the cafeteria. Arven didn’t mean to be so selfish when requesting help, but he also didn’t try to not be selfish when requesting help. He sprinkled in a little flattery, a big smile, and played into your desire to ensure your classmates like you. He spouted some nonsense about loving that picnic life, and more compliments about how you’re such a natural with Pokémon – you’d be perfect to help, so please please please?!

And just as he was hoping, he was able to rope you into helping with those pesky Titan Pokémon.

 ***

 It didn’t take long before you were both in the South Province fighting a Klawf that had no business being that size. You made quick enough work of it, and gloriously enough, the first Herba Mystica was in Arven’s grasp – and soon to be in a delicious sandwich. Step one, done, and it barely took any time! Despite all the prep work he had to do with those news articles and dusty library books to locate it, the actual Titan-beating wasn’t all too bad.

Arven splays out his purple gingham tablecloth, flicks on his lantern, sets out the ingredients, then notices you’re still standing there.

Oh, right, new student girl. You ran all the way out here to find the Titan, and he probably wouldn’t have beaten that giant Klawf with just his Shellder and Squovet, so perhaps some form of payment was due.

“Have you eaten yet?” Arven asks casually, and when you shake your head, he sets his hands on his hips. Alright, easy enough. One five-star sandwich seemed a fair enough trade for your work. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! You’re about to get a taste of my delicious, nutritious, herb-mysticious cooking.”

You smile at that, which for some reason, seems to catch Arven’s gaze for an extra second. Once that second is up, he turns back to his tablecloth filled with sandwich ingredients and gets to work. He slices, he dices, then he hands you a sandwich.

He wonders if you’ll like it.

Then he strikes the thought from his head. Of course you’ll like it! He’s a good cook. Despite that self-reassurance, Arven glances to you a few times, waiting for your reaction to the first bite. Just to see what the Herba Mystica does! Yes, that’s the only reason he’s scanning your features like that. But, despite that herb being the only reason he’s watching you, his brow furrows when that brute of a Pokémon blasts out of its Poké Ball, sniffing away at the sandwich he made for you. His jaw drops when you don’t even hesitate to give it to Miraidon! What the heck?!

“Hey!” Arven bursts out. “I went through all the trouble of making that for you, and you just give it away?! That thing didn’t even taste it, just inhaled it whole!”

You then have the gall to simply shrug. Arven scoffs.

“I hope you realize that’s all there was, so now there’s none left for you.”

“That’s fine,” you say with a smile. There’s that smile again.

“Aw, come on,” Arven sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s fine, he shouldn’t get mad at you. You don’t realize the importance of the ingredients that were in that meal, nor do you know what else Miraidon has stolen from him. “Now you’re making me feel like I’m the selfish jerk here.”

You blink a few times, but when your mouth fumbles for something to say, Arven rips his sandwich in half and holds it out to you.

“Here,” he sighs again. “You can have half of mine. But you’d better savor every last bite.”

You smile again and nod, accepting the sandwich half. He doesn’t bother watching to see if you like it – hmph.

Soon you’re both done with your respective sandwich halves, and he really needs you to get moving so he can do what he really came here for. Maybe if he started to pack up, you’d get the hint. When you motion to help fold the tablecloth, Arven shoos you away. Geez, can’t you be bothered to be selfish for one second? You find the Titan Pokémon, defeat the Titan Pokémon, give away your dinner, and are going to help with the dishes too?!

“Oh, don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll take care of it,” Arven says. “But I suppose if you want to help, I’d be much obliged if you started looking for the next Herba Mystica.”

And you actually agree.

Arven blinks a few times, returning your wave as you bound off into the night.

Huh.

You’re pretty nice, aren’t you…?

He bites his lip. Maybe you really did just help him out because you’re a good person. He lets out a sigh.

“I really owe you one,” he mutters to himself, as he pulls the Poké Ball out of his bag. Though he knows you’ve already left, he glances around just in case. His thoughts fully turn to what he really came here for. “Okay, the coast is clear. You can come out now.”

 ***

 “Did you get a good look at its face, though? I didn’t expect a Titan to be such a li’l cutie!” Arven says. He wants to call you a li’l cutie, what with how sweet and shiny your little smile was, but he settles for calling you his little buddy instead. He prepares four sandwiches, and when you raise an eyebrow at him, Arven feels a hint of red seep into his cheeks.

“O-one is to-go,” he lies. “And the other one, uh…”

You add a smirk to your raised eyebrow, and his blush deepens despite himself.

“I definitely, absolutely, did not make extra so that brute could have a sandwich, okay?” he huffs. You respond with a sarcastic ‘mmhmm’, which for some reason makes his insides twist.

Miraidon inhales the stupid sandwich whole, again, but at least he got to catch your expression after your first bite this time. You seem to like it. That’s a relief.

“Wow, this is really good Arven!” you enthuse with your shiny little smile and crumbs on your cheeks, and that makes his insides twist even tighter. Usually he’d simply agree and move on with his life, so he’s not sure why time seems to snag when he’s around you.

While he’s searching for something to say, suddenly Arven’s composure cracks when Miraidon goes for the last sandwich.

He can’t have that.

He CANNOT HAVE THAT.

“That’s not for you!” he bursts out, causing you and Miraidon to jump as his shout fades from the cave walls. Miraidon shirks back as Arven quickly snatches the sandwich from the plate. Your eyes are wide, and there’s a small pang of guilt tugging at his gut for being the reason for that fear on your face.

“I, sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” Arven says meekly. When you don’t say anything, just nod after a moment, he bites the inside of his cheek.

As the last echo of ‘he can’t have that’ finally fades from his mind, Arven lets out a sigh. He calculates and derives and estimates, but finally thinks that maybe… maybe it would be fine. If you knew.

Arven didn’t have any intention of sharing his deep dark backstory, but he supposes he could share with you. He kind of wants you to know, maybe it would be more bearable to not be the only one holding onto this pain. You deserve to know, now that you’ve helped him out thus far.

So, he lets Mabosstiff out of his Poké Ball. He shares what happened, and you listen intently. He can’t seem to meet your gaze, for some reason. Would you call him stupid? Unimportant? Would you leave him too?

“He’s the only thing that I really care about.”

The words slip so quietly from his lips, as gently and inconsequentially as water melts from a frozen branch when the backdrop is the sun. He isn’t sure what else to say, or why he said so much. He nearly jumps out of his skin when you suddenly pat his arm – a little awkwardly – and say,

“I’ll help.”

He meets your gaze. The intensity in your eyes is as fiery and as bright as cloudless dawn. Now it makes more sense why everyone talks about you, why everyone wants to be around you.

“I’ll help you,” you repeat. “I’ll help you find the rest of the Herba Mystica.”

It’s not that Arven ever bothers to hide who he really is (he’s been called weird and strange many times), and yet that hardened something within him seems to crack when you look at him like that, when you say something like that.

“Thank you,” is all he can manage to reply.

You nod, removing your hand from his sleeve.

Thank you… he repeats in his mind. Thank you. How can he thank you? What does gratitude look like? What does care look like? What does importance look like?

“H-have you eaten?” Arven asks suddenly, eyes flicking between yours.

You smile, eyebrow raised again. Did he say something stupid? Have you ever stood this close before?

“Um, yeah,” you say. Oh. “I just ate your sandwich.”

Oh yeah.

“Oh yeah.”

You blink. Arven blinks. Have you always had those little freckles on your nose?

“R-right!” he finally spits out. “W-well let’s get on it then, yeah? Only three more to go!”

He flashes a shiny smile at you, unsure of why his heart is pounding so fast, nor why his skin seems to tingle where you touched.

 ***

 “Ever since I teamed up with you, good things keep happening!” Arven exclaims, jumping up and down. That makes you laugh – the first time he’s heard it – and now he kind of wants to do everything he can to make you laugh again.

So he jokes and he’s a little more weird than normal and it works. It works, and he smiles because it works, and he smiles because you smile. He smiles and you smile and Mabosstiff is smiling too. It’s weak, and it’s small, but it’s the most uplifting thing he’s seen in a long time. This is the most he’s smiled in such a long time, and a lot of it is thanks to you.

“Thank you,” Arven says, suddenly gripping your hands in his. He can’t help it, he can’t help the joy that’s spilling out of every pore. “So much, thank you!”

“Y-you’re welcome,” you reply bashfully, a bit of red staining your cheeks. He wonders why you’re blushing, and it isn’t until your hands fidget in his that he realizes how close you are. Your hands are so small in his, he wonders how long you’ll let you hold them.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, quickly releasing your hands, yet still reveling in the deep blush in your cheeks.

“That’s okay,” you stutter. “I-I’m glad Mabosstiff is feeling better.”

“Me too,” Arven says. “Only two more to go.”

 ***

 It was just meant to be a brief glance your way to make a silly joke about the Stony Cliff Titan and the Klawf sticks he was putting in this sandwich, but Arven’s breath catches when he sees you in a quiet moment.

You seem so… tired, the way your head so delicately leans against that beast, the way your eyelashes flutter closed in what you think is a private moment of reprieve. Your shoulders slump, and Arven wonders how heavy that backpack is that you’ve been carrying.

His brow furrows when he wonders how heavy your shoulders feel with everything you’re carrying. Tackling the gyms, always battling that psycho student council girl, whatever it was you’re doing with Team Star, then keeping up with your actual studies, all on top of having just moved here…

His hands pause.

And here you are, donating your time and talents to a guy you barely knew.

He chews on his cheek, trying to figure out what to say. How could he help someone like you? Someone so kind and capable and kind of beautiful, he’s just now noticing? You really are just helping him because you’re a good person – what’s in it for you? He shoved off a practically useless Pokémon onto you, and you just took it in stride. At least it can glide now, apparently. Arven drums his fingers on the tablecloth, watching your chest rise and fall with each slow breath. The lamplight catches the color in your eyes, and Arven wonders again if you’ve always been this beautiful.

He's not sure why his cheeks feel warmer, now that you’ve caught him staring.

“Hey, uh,” Arven coughs out, eyes flicking back to his hands. “Have you eaten yet?”

You shake your head, eyes flitting towards the sandwiches on the table.

“Here, this one’s on the house then,” Arven says, smiling and handing you a sandwich.

You take it, smile shining as you chirp out a ‘Thanks!’ like a little bird. It makes him smile too.

“Just don’t give it to that brute,” he added with a grunt.

“No promises,” you say, and that earns you a roll of the eyes.

He’s not sure what else to say, he just knows he wants to keep talking to you. He’s not one to often get tongue-tied, so he’s not sure why it so often happens around you. You barely take a bite of the sandwich before your Rotom phone suddenly rings.

“Hey, Cassiopeia here,” came a tinny voice. “How’s Operation Starfall going?”

“Um,” you reply. Your shoulders are stiff.

“Not that there’s a time limit, but the sooner we can finish off the last three, the better… Since you’ve only gotten through two so far…”

There’s a tense silence for a moment.

“I-I was just on my way to the next base,” you spit out.

“Great to hear, I’ll be in contact when you’re close.”

“Okay,” you say simply, and start gathering your things. “I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m counting on you.”

Arven’s not sure why his heart drops. Maybe it’s how guiltily you set the sandwich back onto its plate. Maybe it’s how rigidly you sling your backpack onto your shoulders. Maybe it’s how stiffly your hands brush off the lackadaisical crumbs from your shirt.

“I should get going,” you say.

And maybe his heart was on his sleeve more than he intended, because his expression makes you pause.

“O-or I could stay?” you say suddenly.

“What?”

“Do you, um,” you stammer. “I could stay? For a little bit longer? You just, um. You seemed sad.”

“No! No, that’s okay, you should get going,” he says. “Well, unless you want to?”

He wished he hadn’t asked, because he doesn’t like the thick pause that comes afterwards.

“O-or, you shou-“

“I should go-“ you say in unison.

Your eyes meet for another moment. Arven clears his throat.

“Just don’t forget about that last Titan!” he says, forcing a smile on his face. “I’m counting on you, little buddy!”

You pause, and something in your expression shifts. You don’t say another word when you hoist your backpack higher on your shoulders, then head out into the desert sand. As soon as you leave, Arven practically deflates, slumping onto the boulder beside Mabosstiff.

He’s heard you mention this operation before, but suddenly his skin prickles in frustration, especially when picturing your expression upon leaving. Why are you the one who has to do everything? Why are you the one that has to take down what’s basically an entire student rebellion? What are the academy’s faculty even bothering to do about Team Star?! Why do you have to leave him because of it?

…But then again, why are you the one that has to tackle the Titans for him? Arven rubs his hands over his face.

“I wonder how often she hears that,” Arven wonders aloud, patting Mabosstiff on the head, who lets out a curious grunt. “’I’m counting on you,’ I mean. People always need her for stuff. She shouldn’t have all of that pressure on her.”

Mabosstiff just grunts again.

He’s so close to the last Herba Mystica, and the herbs really are helping Mabosstiff, so he still needs your help… but…

Arven lets out another thoughtful sigh.

But maybe after that… he could… do something for you? Or something. Just… something to make you smile again. Or smile more. Or just something to help ease that slump in your shoulders.

You are his little buddy, after all.

 ***

 You’re both soaking wet and shivering from the False Dragon Titan, then the other False Dragon Titan, then from the storm outside the cave, but you’re both smiling. It was maybe a little too early to play some hardcore fetch, but Mabosstiff had been romping around the cave for a while. Arven said it was just the rain, but he knew you didn’t believe him when the tears kept pouring.

His tear tracks have since dried, and Mabosstiff and Miraidon are snoozing beside the makeshift fire he started. The storm doesn’t seem like it’ll be letting up anytime soon, but Arven doesn’t really mind since you look really pretty in the light of the fire you both could use a rest after felling the final Titan. You’ll get to the lighthouse lab soon enough, as Dad requested, but right now it was nice to just… sit. Alone with you.

“Are you cold?” he asks, and just as you knew when he was lying about him crying, he knows you’re lying when you shake your head. He rolls his eyes and pulls his winter jacket out of his backpack, draping it over your shoulders. “At least this is dry.”

You mutter out a sheepish ‘thank you’, and Arven nods, smiling lightly at how his coat practically swallows you whole.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he says as you adjust the coat around you. “For your help.”

Maybe it’s the euphoria of his best friend feeling healthy again, or maybe it’s the subdued atmosphere of the cave’s thick air, or maybe it’s some third thing, that Arven lets slip something he would usually keep hidden.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says suddenly. He’s not quite sure what he’s saying, or why he’s saying it. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, smile forming on your lips. You’re so cute in his coat. He wonders if you’re any warmer.

You sit in a peaceful silence, save the rain outside and the crackling of the fire. You rustle when you pull his coat tighter around your shoulders.

“If you’re still cold, I-I could, uh,” he stammers, words still spilling from his mouth like melting snow. He could what? His voice catches. “I could…”

I could hold you

I could hold you close to me

I could help keep you warm

“M-make you something else to eat? Something warm?” he finally spits out.

“That spicy Herba Mystica was more than warm enough,” you chuckle. “But thank you, Arven.”

His name sounds so sweet when it slips from your lips like that.

He isn’t able to revel in it long before your Rotom phone sounds its familiar ring.

“Hey! Where are you at now?” came the tinny voice.

“Lake Casseroya,” you say. ‘With Arven’ is what he wants you to add.

“How’s your gym circuit going? You’re so close! You should head to Montenevera next, I’m actually headed that way myself!”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” you say, and Arven’s brow furrows.

“Great! I’m counting on you!”

The click of the phone is a click of closure as you shake off Arven’s jacket with a quiet sigh.

You both stand, and you turn, just for Arven to catch your hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and your eyes widen at the question. “How have you been faring?”

Your eyes immediately well with tears – an expression that tightens Arven’s chest, that swirls guilt in his gut. The glassiness in your eyes formed their sheen as quickly as the rain hits the lake outside. How long have your tears been barely at bay?

Oh, little buddy… how could he have not even bothered to ask this until now? His brow furrows when you tear your gaze from his to look at a new text on your phone.

“N-Nemona is waiting for me,” you say suddenly. “She wants to be champions together s-so I have to… I want her to be happy. She needs my help. I’ll meet you at the lab afterwards.”

And with that you push his coat into his chest and run out of the cave, and Arven can only watch your retreating silhouette until its melds with the pouring rain.

His fists clench, heat welling within him.

That stupid student council girl, what was her name? It didn’t matter, but what mattered is how his chest tightened when someone’s stolen you away from him yet again. Didn’t she realize the world doesn’t revolve around Pokémon battles?! Did you even want to be a champion, or are you just doing the gym circuit because Nemona said you should? Had she ever even asked?

His heart dropped.

Had he ever even asked…?

Had he ever even asked about what the treasure was that you were looking for? Had he ever asked what was important to you? You’re running errands for everyone in Paldea, and his dad too, apparently, but was any of it anything you even wanted?

He wanted to think of you, of how to help you, but the thought of his father welled an overwhelming wave of anxiety in his chest. He had to be selfish for a little longer, at your expense. He pinches the bridge of his nose, patting Mabosstiff when he rests his head on Arven’s lap. This was supposed to be everything he wanted – his Pokémon was the only thing he cared about. But now with you and with Dad and with Area Zero…

Arven heaves out a deep sigh, as heavy as Lake Casseroya itself.

 ***

 It’s time. He’s collected Nemona and Penny, and now he just needs you before heading to Area Zero. Mabosstiff is barking away, jumping at his phone at the sound of your voice, but it just makes Arven’s chest tight.

 ***

 The student council president and the pipsqueak are snoozing soundly inside while you and Arven forage for snacks. Nemona was trying to secretly nurse an injury, but her suspicious lack of stamina didn’t go unnoticed by him. Penny wasn’t used to the treacherous landscape either, so spending the night in the third base of Area Zero seemed like a wise move. They had an incredibly strong team between the four of them, so there were plenty of Pokémon to keep watch while they slept and while you foraged close by.

“Do you need a break?” you ask.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Arven replies, sighing as he stands straight. His back cracks as he leans backwards far enough to see the sky – or rather, the layer of fog that separated this world from the rest of Paldea.

The air between you has been tense since the final Titan, and Arven knows it’s mostly his fault. Maybe he feels guilty. Maybe he’s scared. Maybe he's had every emotion coursing through his veins and beating through his heart for the past few days. There’s you and his dad and… well, mainly that was it. But there were so many combinations of those two things, of those two people, that made his head feel like radio static the entire time he’s been in this forsaken place.

“Do you want to go back in?” you ask, stepping over to him. Your skin and eyes seem to glow as glitter floats around you. He wishes you weren’t so beautiful.

“No, it smells like mildew in there,” Arven says, snacking on a Sitrus berry he found.

There’s another tense pause between you.

“Arven,” you say suddenly. He feels like when Mabosstiff eats off the counter when he shouldn’t – he can barely look at you, but he does.

He wishes he hadn’t. While you don’t have the bags under your eyes like you used to, the sorrow in your gaze cracks his heart even further.

“Arven are you mad at me?” you ask, so brokenly.

“What?” he breathes out. “No, of course not, why would you think that?”

“You just… you’ve been distant. And distracted, I don’t know,” you say.

“I just have a lot on my mind, it’s not you,” he says. Only one of those things was a lie.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be selfish.”

“You’re not!” Arven blurts out. “You’re not selfish, don’t say that. You’re the least selfish person I know, honest.”

You shrug, and before he can stop himself, Arven is stepping towards you, gripping your shoulders in his hands.

“I mean it,” Arven says. “This has just been…”

The worst few days of my life

My dad loves you more than me

My dad loves Miraidon more than me

I’m scared of seeing my dad.

“I’m scared of seeing my dad,” he says.

He didn’t realize he had said it.

What is it about you that loosens his tongue like this? You’re confusion and clarity all in one.

“Arven,” you say again, and the determination in your voice draws him closer to you like a magnet. “Whatever happens,” you say, emotion catching in your throat. “Whatever happens I’ll be here for you, okay? I won’t leave you. I hope you can make amends with your dad but… but whatever happens I’m here for you.”

His heart can barely beat, as shattered as it is, and yet you try to mold it back together as you wrap your arms around him.

 ***

 “H-hey,” you say, gently closing the door behind you. Mabosstiff bolts off the bed to greet you, which is just enough distraction for Arven to wipe the tears from his face. In his defense, Mabosstiff hasn’t seen you since the events of Area Zero. When you finally manage to push the Pokémon off of you, you make your way to Arven, then gently sit beside him on the bed.

“Hi,” Arven replies thickly, trying to discreetly shove the bundles of tissues beneath his bed.

“How are you doing?” you ask. He wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that, with such genuine care in your eyes. When you so delicately set your hand on his arm, immediately everything comes flooding back – the memories and the feelings and the tears, so overwhelming that all he can do is turn to you, to fall into your arms, to sob into your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him.

Everything. The loneliness, the pain, the betrayal, the abandonment. What was he to his father? What was he to anyone? Was there anyone who cared? If his own mother left when he was born and his father left years ago too, who was he but a lump of rotting meat, just taking up space in a world so hastily moving towards the future?

He isn’t sure how long he’s crying into your shirt, nor how long you’ve been rubbing his back as you sit on his bed. Mabosstiff’s head is resting beside him, and Arven sniffles when he pushes his cold nose under Arven’s hand.

“I’m here for you,” you mumble into his hair, and Arven can barely manage a nod. You don’t seem to mind.

More time has passed, where now you’re cradling him in your arms, leaned against the wall beside his bed. The window is cracked, letting in the cool breeze of dusk. He pushes himself off of you, surprised to see your eyes are red too. You stare at one another, unsure of what to say. He rests his head on top of yours, since now your shoulder is soaked with tears. You sit there, beside one another, until dusk pulls into the night. Arven eye’s flutter open when you clear your throat.

What will you say? ‘Get over it’? ‘You should be proud to have a father like him’? ‘It’s no big deal’? How will you frame your sentence to hide the fact that the world lost his father, rather than the fact that he lost his father?

“Um, h-have you eaten yet?” you ask.

Has.

Has he

Has he eaten yet?

Arven blinks.

Has he…

He shakes his head.

“I brought some sandwiches,” you say. He nods, and you wiggle out from your spot on his bed and over to your bag. “They’re not as good as yours, of course, but I thought I’d try my hand at a new recipe.”

He meets you at the edge of the bed, where you hand off a sandwich. You got one for Mabosstiff, because of course you did, and when you look at him with such kind, hopeful eyes, Arven isn’t quite sure what to say.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” you say. “But you’ve got people who care about you and want to be there for you!”

You smile at him – that small, shiny smile, and Arven’s breath catches in his throat.

Thank you

This means so much to me

I feel so seen

So cared about

You’re so thoughtful

“I love you,” he says.

And something finally clicks.

That’s what this is – love.

You’re attentive and kind and you’re there for him. You’re here. You’re here, right now, holding him, and you have been for hours at this point. For days, for weeks.

You’re here.

You’re here, and, and, and and you help him and you think about him and he doesn’t have to beg for your attention and and… and.

“And you’re everything I’ve needed,” Arven says through a wet sniffle. His words are pouring out like a snowy peak’s river – building strength the further it travels, the further it warms. “I’ve been through a lot and you’ve been through a lot but you’re there for me and you help me and I want to help you and when I’m around you I feel supported and I think you’re so beautiful and-“

Arven keeps listing, and listing, and revealing every thought he’s crossed out in his mind until Mabosstiff lets out a whine, reminding him to breathe. Arven sucks in a breath, closes his mouth, eyes wide, now realizing that while he’s finally realized it to himself, he’s now realized it out loud to you.

“I love you,” he says again. “Sorry – was that? Was that a lot?” he sniffles.

And your smile isn’t like the sunset of a sepia-toned memory, but like the bright clear dawn of home and of comfort and of knowing that you’ll always be there. You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek – it’s a little sloppy, and a little wet, but neither of you seem to mind.

“I love you too,” you say simply. “Now lets eat before the sandwich bread gets any soggier… or before you get any soggier.”

“Gross,” Arven says, smiling a free, warm, genuine smile for the first time in days. In years. As you head towards your bag, he risks another question. “Maybe after dinner, we could read something together? Or watch a movie or something? Just…just be together?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you say with that shiny smile as bright as the dawn. “Than to always be here, together with you.”

[jello-bbq]

Idiots

(Platonic! Tsu'tey x Avatar! Reader) (Platonic! Jake x Avatar! Reader)

From the moment they woke up in home tree, they fucked up and nearly died, which is weirdly not an overdramatization at all. What more when Tsu'tey has them ride a direhorse with no practice?

(3.2k) Part 4

"Jarhead clan?"

Grace stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing the two who were fresh out of the link pods.

"It worked."

Norm quickly attended to them, whose body had apparently also been bleeding while their avatar did.

"Be grateful it did, Marine. What about them?"

"They didn't say anything about a clan, but I guess the Na'vi assumed we were warriors together."

"You ok kid?"

They glanced over as Norm shoved more cotton up their nose aggressively, making their voice sound weird. "I'm fine, just the usual."

"Yeah, their avatar's more banged up, you should see it." Jake laughed, recalling their look of 'freshly powdered baby' when covered in the healing paste.

They glared at him lightly. "Thanks for throwing me under the bus dipshit."

"Oh, I-" Jake tried to correct himself.

Grace took over, stepping in front of them and raising a brow. Asking a silent question.

"Well, I woke up in a tree-" They began to explain. "Had some minor bruises. Don't remember how I got there at all. But then I fell off a tree kind of-"

"You rolled off the tree?" Norm interrupted them.

"It was a different tree, and I jumped."

"You jumped?" He looked incredulous, stopping momentarily in his aggresive camapaign for cotton to start a society in their nostrils.

"I think this is very counterproductive, this whole, repeating my words back at me."

Norm went to retaliate again but Grace stopped him. "You jumped, why?"

"I was trying to stay in the trees so that I wouldn't unlock some biology stuff by accident on the ground and bleed out. Plus there were animals there and like, hell no. I tried to jump from one tree to another and fell."

"And after that? How did the Omaticaya approach you?"

Norm made them drink some pills, making the conversation halt. Afterwards, they continued. When it got to the part of them walking into the arrow, Jake whooped.

He pat their shoulder. "Badass move, love it."

"Reckless move." Grace countered. "You do know they dip their arrows in a neurotoxin? How is the avatar still alive?"

"There wasn't any neurotoxin on the arrow."

"And how would you know?"

"Because otherwise, I'd be dead. There wasn't any." They felt the need to explain further. "Maybe Tsu'tey ran out of them or something, I don't know Grace."

She made a motion telling them to go on with the story. The others awed when they got to the part with the atokirina, though Jake just looked confused.

When they finished their story, Jake told his. The palulukan had gone after him, which had them furrow their brows, thinking of how it felt like it went after them instead.

Atokirina came to him too, and he didn't understand what they were either.

"Alright off to dinner, then to sleep you two." Grace ushered them out of the lab. "Got a big day tomorrow."

•°••°••°••°•

The next day, Grace woke them up with a gentle shove and a warm bowl of soup. "So, Tsu'tey's gonna teach you, huh?"

"You know him?"

"I taught him at the school. Before-" she took a sharp breath. "Before things happened."

They ate the soup quietly, unsure of how to reply.

Grace gave them a smile and left, throwing out a "village life starts early, better get to the pod slowpoke," before she disappeared.

Outside, the eclipse hadn't let up yet. Thinking that Grace would have woken her up with plenty of time, they took a few moments to breathe and get their thoughts in order.

They would be learning the ways of the Omaticaya. Taught by a warrior who most definitely despised them. They already knew the language at least, just needing to deal with the nosebleeds that would come with speaking or hearing it. And the sluggishness that always came with using the knowledge stuffed in their head via dangerous experiments.

Their... infliction, as the scientists called it, had at least some semblance of order. Recorded on a file, always displayed by at least one screen in the lab.

Light subjects were easy skills mostly, like origami or proper swimming form. These would make them bleed for a few minutes at most.

Medium subjects included some sciences like botany, and biology, with some math and battle strategy mixed in which would warrant a ten minute bleed.

Heavy subjects like languages, abstract algebra, and the more complex sciences left them bleeding for more than fifteen minutes, sometimes reaching half an hour.

Those were by far not the only subjects that triggered a bleed, but the scientists did their best to add in the newly discovered ones. That is to say, if they said something and their nose started bleeding, it would be added to the list according to category.

Said record of their infliction meant that as they slipped into the pod, Norm handed them something.

"What is this?"

Norm flushed red. "It's a- it's a lady... thing."

They raised a brow, twirling the plastic pod in their fingers. They had never seen one before.

"Just- put it up your nose."

"Up my nose? But, it's plastic. What is it?"

"It's-"

"Give me that before you hurt yourself." Grace snatched the plastic from them. "A tampon? Seriously, Norm?"

"They have to be in the pod all day and when their nose bleeds-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Go wake Jake up."

"You're gonna put that up my nose?" They eyed the plastic warily.

"Unless you want to choke on your own blood and die."

They let Grace put the tampon up their nose. She smiled at them again before the pod closed.

They woke up back at hometree.

Itchy. Everything felt itchy. That being the first thing they thought as they tried climbing out of the hammock, failing horribly.

The day's first rays of sun still yet to reach the trees. They had to get out of the hammock.

Scratching at their skin, they sighed. "What in the fuck." They tried getting out again, succeeding only in faceplanting onto the hammock. Looking around, they realized a lot of people were still asleep and their volume would no doubt wake a few.

"Oh shit," they whispered, waiting a few seconds to see if they woke anyone up. No one moved.

They tried to get up again. This time their hand got caught in the net and they fell again, the force turning the net upside-down, with them still on it.

They resisted the urge to let out a scream, which took a great deal of self-control.

Especially as they were hanging upside-down and hugging the net like a lifeline. It was.

After a few moments of tense breathing their mind began to have thoughts outside of repeated expletives, calculations of the fall, and of how fucking itchy they felt. And after a few moments more, they had calmed enough to form a plan. Orange light began to creep in through the leaves. They needed to act fast.

Slowly, they began rocking the net side to side, building momentum. They felt lucky now that no one had slept beside them. Or else they would have had a rude awakening.

They swung hard to the right, finally flipping over.

More tense breathing followed as they kept hold of the now rolled-up hammock, laughing quietly. Only then did they realize there were feet on the branch in front of them.

Their brows furrowed. They looked up, still breathing heavily.

"Shit," they whispered.

Light filtered in more. Just enough to see how Tsu'tey stood there, unamused. Had he been there from the start?

"We train now." He grumbled, voice soft in consideration for the sleeping Na'vi, but definitely not for them. "Hurry." Then he walked off.

"Great. Just gotta figure out how to get off this first." They huffed. "Thanks for the helping hand. Wow, couldn't have done it without you." They added sarcastically while crawling forward.

Their tail swished around as the hammock did, making sure to keep them from tipping over again. Shuffling forward with absolutely no grace, they eventually reached the branch and clung to it.

Some people began to wake up. When they felt the first pair of eyes on them, they stood awkwardly and scratched at their neck, walking off in the general direction Tsu'tey went.

"If that is your hurry, you will get killed. Instantly."

They turned. He leaned against a branch, signature scowl on display.

"Sorry, I was busy trying not to fall to death." They wanted to add that he could have helped them, but decided against it. "Bet you'd have loved that though, one nuisance taken care of."

His ear flicked the slightest bit in annoyance. "How good is your Na'vi?"

Their brow furrowed. Had they ever said they knew Na'vi? No, they realized. Tsu'tey said that to test a hunch.

Not that it mattered, their knowledge of Na'vi would be of no use hidden.

"Good enough."

He nodded. It felt like he had something else to ask, but instead he turned. "Follow."

They passed by a few other morning people. Hunters making arrows. Crafters creating beaded tops. People gathering herbs. People tending to fires.

Each stared as they walked. Some tried not to make it obvious but others just outright stared. He couldn't blame them. They were a stranger. An anomaly. A dangerous anomaly. The Na'vi had suffered enough to know that much.

Tsu'tey did not seem to want to waste time. He power-walked the whole way down hometree, forcing them to keep up. Even as they hit the ground he didn't stop and strutted straight through the trees.

They followed, scratching at their arms as they did. In the light, they finally realized that the itch had been a result of the herbs on their scratches. They reached up to brush their fingers on their collarbone. Only dried herbs met their touch. No blood.

"Eyes open."

They walked into the forest with him, getting slapped in the face with a leaf. Tsu'tey walked a few feet in front of them, but still they felt like he had something to do with it.

Eclipse faded away, the pink hues in the sky dissolving into blue.

The forest felt just as exciting in the day.

They ran their hand between the ridges of a plant as they passed. It shrunk down with the same fun noise that had them laughing just yesterday. Strange how so much has changed since then, they thought.

Shaking their head, they followed Tsu'tey. Everything still felt itchy. The dark green paste did wonders for the small scratches that littered their body, and even for the relatively deep gash on their collarbone. But, the cells healed so quickly that they itched so much.

"Stop that," Tsu'tey grumbled. They had yet to hear him say something without grumbling.

The itch began to die down, but they continued to scratch at their arms, taking some form of pride in how his ears twitched at the sound. No doubt he still had that scowl on his face.

Just as they were about to ask where they were going, they broke through the trees. A clearing and a stream. The ground squelched under their feet which surprised them enough to stop.

When was the last time they'd felt mud? Actual mud, not city muck. It felt good to feel actual soil under their feet. They began to lightly stomp around, laughing silently.

"Weird sky person."

They frowned. He definitely said that for them to hear.

Before they could retaliate, he called out. A loud, sharp sound. Footsteps thundered in the forest.

Their ears twitched. The footsteps grew louder. Direhorses. Two emerged from the shrubbery with elegance and approached Tsu'tey.

He stroked one with a gentleness they didn't know he could have. "You need to first learn to ride if your insanity should be cured." He looked back to see if they were listening, a silent instruction to watch carefully.

In one quick motion, he made tsaheylu and jumped onto the horse. The horse kept almost perfectly still as he did so.

"Your turn."

They lifted their hands in front of them as they approached, trying to do so carefully.

A huff said that Tsu'tey did not enjoy waiting, but he didn't seem to enjoy anything.

They continued slowly, fully aware of him getting more and more impatient. When their hand brushed against the horse, it snorted. They didn't know anything about horse riding.

They froze. Fuck.

Images flooded their brain, information ranging from proper riding grip to the types of leather used in saddles centuries ago, when horses still existed.

Tsu'tey saw it. The freeze. Thinking that they were just afraid of the direhorse, he made to tell them to get over it when they unfroze.

Quick. A split-second of non-movement. And then their hand reached up to wipe at their nose. "Shit."

Without thinking, they made tsaheylu, intending to jump onto the horse after but the connection jolted them.

They took a breath. The horse took a breath. They stepped back. The horse stepped back.

Clarity. Slowly, but quicker than ever before, the thoughts subsided. And they didn't need them. Placing both hands flat on the horse's firm back. Pushing themself up. Swinging a leg over, and they were seated.

They blinked. It felt almost natural, which showed throughout the lesson.

Tsu'tey had them trot and gallop, through mud, water, and areas with plenty of roots for the horse to trip over. He looked pained every time they'd manage to get by.

They were proving him wrong. They could learn. They could do decently.

And then the horse bucked forward. Instead of falling off from the force, they somehow stayed on, shooting through the forest. Leaves hit them everywhere. Stray branches scratched at their skin.

They kept their eyes closed, trying to tell the horse to stop, to no avail. Until it did stop. So suddenly that they slipped forward, tipping to the right and falling.

At the last second something made contact with their leg. The force kept them from colliding with the ground but caused pain. A sharp jolt that coursed up their leg from the ankle.

"Ow." It took a second to get their bearings upside-down. But as soon as they spotted the second set of direhorse legs, they knew they were fucked.

"How reckless are you?" He wasn't yelling but his voice seemed to echo through the forest. He held onto the back of their ankle. Almost dangling them over the ground. "I have no time for your foolish games, take this seriously or leave."

"I am taking it seriously. We've been at this for hours and this is my first slip up." They huffed the best they could upside down, trying to get a hold of the direhorse to push themselves back up. The hold on his ankle loosened. "Don't drop me."

He dropped them.

They took a faceful of mud.

They were gonna kill him. Tsu'tey for letting go, or Jake for getting them into this? Both, preferably.

They wiped off the impromptu mud mask as best they could, sitting up on their knees and turning to glare at Tsu'tey.

"I thought you liked the mud."

Even with the pounding in their head from the fall, they could clearly see the smirk on his face. The only deviation from his scowl and it had to be caused by their pain. Of course, it had to.

An idea formed as they stood, gathering some mud in both hands. And then they shook the mud off like a wet dog, trying to aim the chaos in his general direction.

After a few good seconds, they stopped.

His expression. God, they wished they could take out a camera and snap a picture.

Flecks of mud stuck to him all over, including a particularly sizable glob on his cheek.

They had done it on a whim, and as soon as the elation had a dash of horror, as soon as the barest flicker of fury crossed his face, they mounted their horse and turned back the way they came.

This kind of thing happened often. A fleeting act of defiance that they would suffer for. On earth it had been isolation or more experimentation. They didn't want to know what price they would have to pay on Pandora.

When they reached the clearing, Neytiri looked to be helping Jake with direhorse riding as well. Only he hit the mud a lot sooner than they did.

They laughed, drawing the two's attention. "Sorry." They smiled.

"Why are you laughing, pipsqueak?" Jake smiled when he saw them. "We match!"

They got off their direhorse and walked to the stream. "I did not fall of my own accord."

"English?"

They took a second, the words moving slowly as if ther mind were filled with jelly. They shook their head. The haze cleared. "I said I didn't fall on my own."

"What's that mean?"

Tsu'tey entered the clearing, looking deep in thought. Jake stifled a laugh.

He looked up, the shape of his brows furrowing when he registered Jake and Neytiri.

Neytiri had a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, Jake was not so secretive. He grinned widely, glancing over at them and conveying with a look that he knew they'd done it.

They had to admit, Tsu'tey had good composure. His ears and face didn't even turn dark when his direhorse turned around and walked through a bush to go further downstream.

Jake, however, did not have any composure at all. He laughed even before he got out of earshot, stumbling back onto his knees and clutching his stomach.

They laughed with him. Even Neytiri joined in before she kicked Jake up and told him to go wash.

"He let you fall?"

"He dropped me in the mud."

They told him what happened, leaving out specific mentions of their infliction because though Neytiri stayed a respectful distance away they could see her ears twitch as she listened.

"And the-" he motioned to his face, unable to stop a smile at the memory. "What was that about?"

They shrugged. "Fuck if I understand what I do." They wiped at their face.

•°••°•°••°•°••°•

The next morning, Tsu'tey stood at the foot of their hammock again. He said nothing this time and just walked off. They walked down hometree, into the forest, past the clearing. He motioned for them to get onto one of the grazing direhorse.

They had been dreading the next lesson all throughout dinner. Maybe Tsu'tey would have them jump off a cliff to test their loyalty or something. Yell at them during dinner. Have them sacrifice themselves for Eywa.

They would admit that their imagination had run wild, but they didn't know him all that well. Who knew if he was as batshit crazy as their mind twisted him to be.

But now there he was. Leading them through the forest so silently it felt like they were alone. He didn't even glance back.

Their imagination tilted, like a cup placed precariously on a table's edge. He would leave them in the forest to die. Straight into a den of palulukans. Kick them off a cliff. Then they saw the glint of metal on his direhorse. Looking closer, he had a pouch of arrows and a bow.

Oh, they thought, and the cup fell, their thoughts spilling over. He's gonna use me for target practice.

[bigman5318008]

dinner went so good I made a big pot of soup like really big. too big I think because it kindof broke my stove whoops. it's OK. tubbo said he would fix it. michael and him came over and we are together I don't really have a kitchen table so we ate on the floor and then I thought that I should ask phil to help me build a table. tubbo and I talked about me not having a table and I said I Know my house isn't the Best tubbo and he said No Tommy I think your house is one of the only Homes here and I said tubo, you're just saying shit. though it's nice to have a home. a real one

[dar1ing-d0ve]

dshfli forgot to do this yesterday whoops

What I ate:

Strawberry Banana Smoothie: Full thing was 119cals but I left a quarter of it so around 89 cals

Crackers w/ Hummus: 11 crackers (130 cal) 1/2 tbsp hummus (20) = 150cals

Kimchi Tomato Soup: 86cal, ate most of it (so tastyyyy)

Pesto Pasta: 94 cal (was forced to eat dinner when my mom came home dispite eating earlier cause she didn't believe me :((( had a really small portion but was more than what I wanted

Total: 429~

Limit: 600

Burned: 1,613

I'm a lil worried abt tomorrow because my co worker always gives me food and I won't know the exact cals but I plan on fasting monday to make up for it

[cow-stealin-gal]

A Lady in Waiting

Chapter 1

[something I should’ve written long ago]

I don’t know about you, but I think that some, if not all of us, want to be someone else. 

Especially in the realm of fantasy, where anyone could be as powerful as they could be.

But in this case, a fellow is about to discover a secret that few have been offered.

Probably because she grown tired of all of the rejection. Whoops.

Chapter 1

“What a day.”

“I really want to buy something to eat”

“But I already ate, so why do I feel like buying snacks?”

“I traveled through whole crowds to get a limited edition Bakugan. That was the whole reason why I came here all this way for nothin, was to buy a special toy.”

The complainer over here is Brendon Rivera.

A college student, aged 22.

He often complained about stuff that happened to him.

Like the time he dropped a card onto a puddle of water.

[NOOOOO]

Or the time that he has to help out at work despite having no classes over the weekend.

[maaaaaaannnnnn]

Or the time that two buses passed by him.

[you absolute {beep-beep}, pieces of {beep}, {beep-beep}, I swear to lord I will {beep} {beep} {beeeeeep}.]

I’ll give him a pass for that. The bus system is a total mess.

Anyways, Brendon is walking around town moping about losing a toy that he didn’t need.

Until…he noticed a sign.

“Huh. That wasn’t there before.”

He takes a moment to read the sign.

Garage sale today. From 4/7 to 4/12.

Over on Gallon Road.

“Huh. A garage sale. Wonder if they have anything.”

This is where it began…ok maybe not.

It took Brendon five minutes to get there, mainly because he took his time walking.

But when he reached Gallon Road, he noticed a bunch of boxes, a couch, a few TVs, tables with several shirts, old big toys, shiny objects and oddly shaped objects.

“Huh.”

When he got closer, he saw a collection of toy cars, remote control cars, gold chain necklaces, even more shirts of different colors.

He also found lamps, vases, plates, a dark green couch with a patch of worn out red, a brown coat rack behind a pile of boxes and paintings.

“Oh dang.”

Then one object in particular caught his attention.

Two necklaces.

A pearl necklace fit for a lady.

And a necklace with a strange looking design, holding an egg-shaped white gem surrounded by six red gems.

Brendon found himself drawn to the large pearl.

He was bending over to get a closer look.

He developed an urge to buy them.

So he looked up and said,

“How much for these two?”

An elderly woman came over and told him,

“$120.34”

“Oh.”

[I mean…I was going to blow $250 on a limited edition Bakugan…]

“Ok”

[Welp, at least mom might like the pearl necklace.]

Brendon handed over 6 $20 bills, a quarter, and a dime, where he received a penny in return.

[I still have some money left over…but I better save it]

“Thanks!” Said Brendon.

“No problem!” The elderly woman chimed.

Brendon walked away with two pretty necklaces. An action that would change his life forever.

Now it begins.

It was a relatively uneventful evening at home.

After Brendon showed his mother the two necklaces, she was awestruck by the fancy necklaces and thanked him for the pearl necklace. As for the necklace that she que 

Brendon helped with his sister’s homeworks (reluctantly I might add).

The family ate their dinner, took showers, and generally went to bed. However, Brendon decided to stay up a bit longer to check up on his necklace.

“Ok, let’s take a closer look.”

He picked up his necklace and studied it.

“Hmmm…oh dang…the white egg pearl is pretty big.”

“Like almost bigger than my thumb…”

“The shape of the gold looks like a fire fighter sign. There are 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 rubies.”

“They’re also egg shaped.”

“It’s pretty heavy for a necklace, so I probably shouldn’t run with this.”

Brendon put on the necklace and looked into the mirror.

“Hmmmm….”

“Mmm…”

“I guess it’s nice.”

“…mmmm”

“I uh…”

“Umm”

Brendon doesn’t have any idea of what he bought.

Seriously, he has no fashion sense.

“I’ll keep it on for now. I might have an idea later on”

“Such as a plan for pumpkin spice latte.”

“Like how much pumpkin sauce should you use to keep it sweet but not too sweet.”

“There’s a coffee shop down the road, but it’s pretty expensive. But they do have croissants and pan dulce.”

“Man I could go for some pan dulce, maybe I can get some when I come back or such.”

“But I really don’t want to bump into Renaldo.”

“He’s rude.”

“Like the time that he sprayed me with water and I then slipped and fell from trying to catch him.”

“Or the time that he bumped me while I was dribbling the ball. Making me fall down.”

“Or the time that he put gum in my hair and I got in trouble for punching him.”

“Just unfair.”

That was years ago, Brendon.

“Like I’m just still mad over this.”

“Like I just don’t like him.”

“I hate him, honestly.”

“I hate his little goofy face.”

“I hate how he gets attention from everyone.”

“I hate how he gets away with shit.”

“I just don’t. Want. To. See. Him.”

He covers his mouth. And looks around.

“Oh shoot. I must’ve been pretty loud.”

“Sorry guys.”

He walks into the kitchen and looks at himself in the mirror.

“I honestly don’t like how I look like. I mean I’m messy. I stink. I’m generally the face of gross things…I wish I looked pretty. Like a dragon lady, with sexy clothes, a long tail, beautiful wings, and a voice that everyone goes ’Mama Mia’…”

Brendon snickers to himself.

“hehehe”

Then he takes a deep breath.

“Besides, I’m always the “quiet one.” Like I have stuff I want to say as well. Like for example, I like leotards….shit no…anything except for what I draw.”

“Never mind, I’ll probably just never mention that at all.”

“I sound like a pervert.”

“Ignore the part about the dragon lady stuff…”

Brendon sighs.

Then he went to the kitchen to clean the table to make space to draw his character.

He set the sketchbook down, opened up to a blank page and picked up his pencil.

He then put on his headphones to listen to his playlist of random songs that he liked.

“Ok, time to draw Madeline.”

Brendon proceeded to draw his character.

He drew the figure (body), he drew an overall leotard shape, he marked where the gloves and thigh highs would end, then he hurriedly drew a tail with fins.

Brendon stopped for a moment…

He started thinking…

Then he made quick shapes for wings, then sketched the fingers, the horns, the hair…

Along the way, he made a few mistakes.

Then he erased them.

Then he drew them again, made a mistake and erased.

This was how he usually draws…

He sketches the long skirt. Gotta have cover, I suppose.

He sketches the top part…

A…boob window…and a choker…

Oh boy.

The gloves…they’re baggy around the shoulders and tight around the wrist…

And he gave her a…rose…on the waist…

And…oh my…he’s drawing a vine pattern around the skirt…

how…complicated…

Anyways, Brendon’s eyes began to grow heavy. He stood up from his seat and began to yawn and stretch.

His piece remains as a sketch…

Smudges, furry lines, an overly simple face on top of a detailed body.

A front facing figure, hands that may not remain the same, multiple fabric folds.

Need I go on?

“Alright, that’s enough…” Brendon muttered.

He packed up his sketchbook.

Packed it into his backpack.

Brushed his teeth and tongue.

He hates the taste.

Then he went to bed.

OK…Now it begins.

[elsadaisywrites]

House of sand

On that bed two lie naked. Old skin, thin and worn. Teeth, jagged and stained. At one point they were a man and a woman. But now, they were lumps under sheets. It’d be nice to hold each other, but then that’d mean they liked each other. She wakes up first. It was somewhere between lunch and dinner. The two most important times of the day. She hated waking up, crawling out of bed, and how stuffy the air was. But she got up, and she went to look at the front door. She looked at the front door, but she was naked. She was naked, so she put on a robe. Sometimes she wondered just what exactly went on the night before. The night before she woke with bruises and sore bones. The night before the sheets got covered in blood, or maybe vomit. But any fool would know what went on. She was a fool, for sure. She just much preferred to wonder. He was still naked, stuck in the sheets. Probably glued there, next to their spoons. 

Under her feet, granules crunched like leaves.

Step, step, step. To the pantry. Get your Cheerios. Step, step, step. Here comes the man. Squash the bug. Get your Cheerios. My man, go get it. Step, step, step. Go make some coffee, honey. If only her father had taught her how to box. So he ate his Cheerios, and he liked the Giants. Watched them as often as she’d let him. She was waiting for her coffee. She poured her cup, sat down. He got up. He got his coffee, and she took the Cheerios, because fuck it. She was up first. He was naked. He was just so naked. She should have stayed in high school. 

If she looked through the steam of the coffee, he was maybe handsome. He was maybe not so thin. He was maybe not so greasy. It’d be nice to pour her coffee on him, let it soak into the sand. It’d be nice if he’d shower. It’d be nice if she smiled. It’d be nice… if for just one goddamn day he was enough. 

That was their lives. That was their whole entire lives. That was it. After her coffee she swept the tiles. Out on to the front porch, as there was too much for a dustpan. Beat the rugs, babe. 

When she woke up, she would look at the door. Then put on her robe. At night they’d get high and she’d lay there. Sometimes she’d pour coffee on him, and sometimes he’d want some Cheerios. He never told her to stay. She never told him that she didn’t like it when he took the Cheerios. Often, she didn’t stay. Always, she would come back. It was love. Take me back. Forgive me. And they did. Too many mistakes, and too many miscarriages. He was sorry, and he was guilty. And when she was naked he just couldn’t help it. And she didn’t care (but she cared). He would come home with flowers, and she would take them. Then, scoop the sand off the table, off the counters. Sand was piled next to the T.V., and he pretended to see the Giants, clear-as-day. Babe, get the rugs.

Once she left, gone for a whole month. He thought it was for good. She must have made up with her mother. He got himself a Pittie, named it Blu. Gentle. Blu was a rescue. One day there she was. Fuck him. The man was just so sorry, he was just so sorry, and he was thankful she came back. Sorry about the dog. Only just a dog. She didn’t think so, and she was wrong. But she ran him over in her rusty Ford. He couldn’t have a thing. He buried the dog in back. Her mother had been dead since June, and the sand started coming back.

When one would get mad they’d whoop the other. Then, she would leave. Then, she’d come back. No friends, and their family was gone, who’d love trash anyway? Other trash would. Slap. slap, slap. No doggy for you. No pittie, no kitty, no rotten old fish. Kick, kick, kick. No job. No degree. They just look at ch’ya too funny. Spit, spit, spit. Your family’s shit. Gobble. Gobble, gobble. You can hobble for awhile. What can it hurt? I know you’ll come back.  

They acted like the sand wasn’t even there.     

Would you believe they were 42. Just yesterday they were 16. Just last night he knelt down in front of her, and pulled out a ring. It was nothing special. Bastard probably stole it. He said something about love and God and she laughed him away. It started raining sand. He spent the night on the floor (in the sand), feet away from his Blu who was resting just outside the door. How many times had he asked her? He had lost count. She just wanted to see if he’d ask again. She just wanted to see how many times she could leave before he changed the locks. 

Just the day after she felt eternity would be better. Swearing on her life and on the bible and on Blu that another night in that bed and she’d set the house on fire. So she waited until he went to bed. And pulled out his handgun, the one he kept safe in the closet. And she’d point it at him. Then at her. Then at him. Then she’d put it back. Then she’d pick it up. Then she left the house. How many times had she promised to burn the house down? How many nights were spent staring at the barrel of a gun? Where is my picket fence? They’d lost track.

She never messed with the gun before, long before. But years ago she had never touched drugs. Drugs were here now, and so was her man. Years ago she had never killed a thing. But his dog was gone, and he was still here. People change. There was a time when he had never known what it felt like to have his dick burned. Then she threw hot coffee on him, naked. There was a time when neither knew what it felt like to be forgiven, and then they met each other. 

She came back in the house that very night, ankle deep in sand. The same as any other night she had left the house, but this was like the night she first shot up. This was like the night she killed his dog. This was like the night he choked her and he choked her hard. He loaded up the needle, and wound her arm up good. Off to bed. And in the morning she was up before him, and she was a woman of her word. That extra gallon of gas? Yes, the one in the little red container. Yes, that one. Pouring it on him. At first he thought it was just another wake up call. A pot of coffee. But this one wasn't hot, yet. He jumped out of bed, smelling the stench. Before she lit the match he had her bloodied and out the door, naked. They were both just so naked. 

They were both just so naked all the time. At 16, he had a truck. In the back of the truck they’d get naked. Everything had been so surreal and forgettable and unsure. Hating the feeling of it coming to an end. Rather spend their whole lives in the back of a truck. Under a blanket. When the ground they slept on was clean. No need to walk or to eat or to breathe. That meant it would change. That meant that things would change. Both were just so scared, scared to lose one another. Scared to breathe, because that would change things. Lovebirds tangled up like a web, lying on a bed. Their hearts so far past simple and sweet. 

Their house was just so dirty. She wished he’d let her open the blinds. Burp, burp, burp. He hasn’t shaved in weeks. Yell, yell, yell. Now, they’re 53. Punch, punch, punch. And their lives are still the same. Cry, cry, cry. Together, they were alone. 

Farther along the line they went. An overdose… or two. But they still haven't kicked it, yet. “What a shame…”, said the neighbors. “They’re no good for eachother…”, said the cops. But who would they be without one another? Without drugs and the sand they would still be the same. Without one another, they just wouldn't be together. Sirens heard, everyday. She was soft, like a bird. He went away. Off to the pound, and she brought him back, again. But when she drove her Ford, he fought back. Then naked they would go to bed. Together. 

Each time, the sand rising. Sometimes coming down in torrents. Doing their best to sweep it out. 

She had a vase, once, that broke. He’d used it as an ashtray, for his smokes. All of the ashes and all of the butts came tumbling out, and onto the rug. She had broke the vase, but he was the one who wasn't so kind to her grandma’s old gift. Yes, he had known how much it had meant. Really, now that all was spent, could a vase really break an old lover’s nest? And that was the straw, that broke the camel’s back. Oh, wait… she came back. This time waist deep, then rising rising, until they couldn’t breathe.

Drive, drive, drive. The old man went to sell her Ford. Sweep, sweep, sweep. She finally did some chores. Changing the blanket, and washing the sheets. The sand was blowing away, in heaps. Pour, pour, pour. Gasoline goes in the tank. The tank of a truck, that he had painted blue. Whoop, whoop, whoop. Whoop the cushions of that couch. Where he can watch the Giants, and you can drink coffee without a pout. How? How? How? How does that robe fit you so nicely? Did you buy it for yourself? Where? Where? Where? Where did the spoons go? Did you just throw them out like that? Oh, I know! They went in the drawers. Cheerios aren't just a snack. You pour them in bowls, with milk and your coffee. Then you sit at the table, and watch the sun rise. Then off to the bedroom. Who will be first? “Just sit there, my darling? You’ve tried, did it work?” And he pulls out the gun, and together they stare. Together like always. He points it at air. Then suddenly, she’s looking into that barrel again. She doesn’t care if she’s pretty. She cares if it ends. Then his turn to go. Together again, they lie once more. Their house full of sand. The end.

[harlowsbby]

“Well it is our first ever Valentine’s together so I have to make sure everything is perfect for him.” You we’re literally on edge everything had to be perfect or you weren’t going to be happy. Awww no I feel really bad 😭 IMMA BEAT JACKS ASS!!

“You’ll be home for dinner right? I’m making homemade macaroni with salmon and some greens and for dessert homemade ice cream.” He licked his lips at the thought of homemade ice cream. HE MISSED OUT ON ALL THE GOODNESS?!? Man fuck his ungrateful ass 😒lemme get a plate 😭 Ion even like salmon

“What are you on about Sunni? She’s my girl and all but she doesn’t own me.” BITCH?!? Are you dumb? Like are you fr rn?! 🤨

“Baby, fuck I’m so sorry I feel like such an asshole i completely forgot it was Valentines Day today and I’m so sorry baby girl. Can you please forgive me?” Don’t baby nothing boy fuck you. You should feel like an asshole, cause that’s what you are. How tf you forget if thats all that was spoken abt last week. Nobody forgiven nothing, goodnight & clean up this mess 🖕🏽

The minute he did you instantly started crying. All you wanted to do was spend a day with Jack but you had no idea you came second to last. Awwwww babe don’t cry 🥹 FUCK THAT WHITE MAN!!

YOU ATE AS ALWAYS BABE!! Got me ready to whoop his ass Fr 😭

Thank you babesssssss 😭💗 I appreciate all the feedback and certain lines you always point out but yeah we still love jack in this he just messed up is all 😭

[prestonnnnn1]

Day in the Life as a High School Senior

This is day one of my blog about my days. Each day I normally have a planned out schedule but fortunately, it was MLK day and I did not have school! So exciting! I woke up around 9 AM and met my friends at the gym for leg day. It was more of a goofy day, we did not really work out. After, I came home, showered, and got ready for the day! My mom, brother, and be went to Grouchos and got lunch then took some of my pageant and prom dresses to a pageant consignment shop so hopefully I can get some money back from them. Fingers crossed. We then came home and I made multiple phone calls to prepare myself for the Teaching Fellows Scholarship I am working to receive. I worked on one last college application from 4 pm to 6 then sat down and ate a super yummy dinner with my family. After, I went to my boyfriend’s house for a little bit then came home and worked more on my college application. After 6 hours of working on the stupid application, everything was perfect, paid, and ready to go. I go to submit and get the notification that my session has expired and I need to refresh the page. I closed my eyes and prayed everything was saved and come to find out nothing did! Whoop, whoop! Six hours of hard work for an application that is due tonight is wasted. So it is now 11:25 pm, I remembered I had this assignment so I am completing it, taking a five-hour energy shot, and then redoing the 200-question College of Charleston application all over again. Happy Monday!! I promise I am normally not this much of a mess.

[lucillejit]

I grew up in NC, alot of my clothes came from Walmart or Kmart and they had been in layaway till school start. The mall was for special outfits. Eating out at a restaurant was a huge deal that only happened for special occasions. Fast food was left overs at home. Eating popsicles was a treat on a hot day. We had medic drug for candy and you only needed $1 or less. School was mandatory!! You took your school clothes off as soon as you got home and put on your play clothes. If no one was home after school, you jumped the gate or went in through the window. Nobody paid for daycare family was the babysitter.We ate dinner at the table. Our house phone was always being used. We played Cops and Robbers, 1-2-3 Not It, Red Light Green Light, Hide & Seek, Truth or Dare, Tag, Kick Ball, Dodge Ball and we rode bikes. Girls and Boys played in the street or in the house. We came home when the street lights came on. Children were seen and not heard. Staying in the house was a punishment and the only thing we knew about being "bored"--- "You better find something to do before I find it for you!" We ate what mom made for dinner or we ate nothing at all. There was no bottled water; we drank from the tap or the water hose (because there was no coming in and out of the house😑😑🤧)

Phone numbers and address’s were either memorized or written on a folded piece of paper which was kept with you at all times!

Cell phones had free minutes after 9 pm 😂

We watched cartoons on Saturday mornings, and rode our bikes for hours. We ran around in the streets until dark and came in before mom had to find us (the street lights came on).

We were AFRAID OF NOTHING.

We watched our MOUTHS around our elders because our PARENTS WOULD WHOOP OUR BUTTS!!!

These were the good old days.

Kids today will never know how it feels to be a real kid, they will never understand my childhood!!

I loved being a kid!!!

Copied and pasted from Rey C Fernando LONG LIVE A LEGEND AND A GREAT FRIEND & would have been a amazing husband, wish we left on good terms but I can only do better and be better cause that’s what always told me 1 million times till you were blue in the face, & you realized nothing was gone help me change but losing you honestly did!! I’m bettering myself day by day, it’s hard but I’m praying to god and getting through it.. for myself and I’m your name babe i promise, I love you to death, and I miss you more then the world and all these people in it. Goodbye till we meet agian.

[corvid-language-library]

Hmm it would seem that yesterday I came home, ate dinner and then did absolutely nothing for the rest of the evening. Whoops.

Well, I guess I'll just have to pick up the slack today.

To do when I get home tonight:

Dinner

Wash up (put on some music and get it done!)

Rinse out bottles

Put then in recycling

Clear table

Clear floor

Stretch

To do tomorrow

Laundry

Meal plan

Go to the supermarket

Vacuum

Sort out recycling & take it out

Work out

Language learning log

Finish vocab list

Minna No Nihongo

Finish queuing posts for Norwegian crash course

[bisoras]

1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 14 (choose whatever fandoms you like!) ⭐️

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get? tbh i started watching teen wolf bc i was excited abt st3rek and listen,,,, i don’t see it at all even a little bit like i just can’t ???

3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? YES im lookin at the sh fandom and their anti (CANON) ace!raphael selves smh. also i’ve unfollowed gr//adence shippers from the fa.ntastic bea/sts fandom bc,,, disgusting

4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP? the first one that came to mind was akur//oku but,,,,,,,,, even beyond that,,,,,,,,,,, dr@rry 110% @hp fandom what the fuck why wont u love urselves and stop rewriting the characters to make ur weird crackship “work”

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you? AKUR//OKU (alternatively: sa//phael @ sh fandom. it was okay, i didnt mind it, but ur stupid obsession w it ???? they have zero (0) chemistry ?????? simon is literally terrified of raphael 76% of the time) (double alternatively is lowkey lightning/hope bc i love their chemistry no matter what the attraction (be it romantic or platonic or familial or what) but fandom grips on what’s what just,,, no))

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now? geeez can i just answer ak/uroku for all of these??? if not then tbqh probably z//utara from atla bc the fandom (at least,, used to) act so???? holier than tho and “IT WAS FATE MEANT TO BE THEY’RE SOULMATES OPPOSITES ATTRACT KATAANG CAME OUT OF NOWHERE” and im like bro,,,, chill,, please

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why? @ ftwd fandom (or should i say t/100 fandom smh) alicia drives me insane like ????? she was okay if a little boring but u guys literally crawled up her ass and acted like it was the alycia show and it’s nOt literally every other character is more interesting than her just shut up ok u literally ruined ftwd for me bc of that nonsense

11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? OK I HAD A WHOLE ANSWER HERE ABT VILLIANS BUT YKNOW WHAT IM CHANGING TO GINNY WEASLEY OK BRO LISTEN GINNY DESERVED BETTER also so did ron and he is 110% applicable here too but dOnt open up that can of worms w me holy fuck

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom? @ hp fandom ,,hp is one of my special interests and also my longest surviving special interest but u suck the fun out of everything and make me regret ever looking into fandom outside of ffnet bc ur nonsense makes me wanna kms

salty ask list B)

[slasherholic]

srry for lazy writing I just have a lot of hcs about his backstory and I wanted to drabble :’)

synopsis: a thanksgiving dinner from the perspective of a much smaller asa.

contains: death, implied abuse, vomit mention

Thanksgiving | Asa Emory

His mom raised her voice at him in front of his grandma and grandpa because he hadn’t touched his thanksgiving dinner.

“I’ll eat it.” Rachael said, plucking the meat off her turkey wing. “I want it, can I have it Asa?”

His little sister Rachael was two years younger than him and got on his nerves a lot because she had a big mouth and didn’t know when to stuff it.

“Nope.” He told her. “Mind your own business.” If she was sitting any closer, he’d have kicked her shoe under the table.

Rachael rolled her eyes at him. He taught her that and now she did it whenever he said something that was supposed to ruffle her feathers.

“Hey, you don’t talk to your sister like that.” His father said. “Eat your dinner son, your mother put a lot of effort into it.”

Across the table, his mother put down her fork, folded her hands in her lap, and sat watching him like she was waiting for something to happen. Her glass was empty again.

The bug in his fist under the table that nobody had noticed yet crawled around his hand a bit. He was being careful not to squish it.

He rested his cheek in his other hand. “I can’t though. I’m not hungry.”

He wasn’t kidding around—he bought a sandwich from a stand downtown earlier with spare change from his allowance, which he was good at saving, but he’d left that part of his excuse out so he wouldn’t get nagged more for spoiling his appetite.

“Esther, if the boy’s not hungry, he’s not hungry!” His grandmother chuckled, and that made his grandpa laugh a bit too, but it only made his mother sigh and put her head in her hands.

“Don’t. Don’t encourage him. Can you at least try, Asa? Can you pretend you’re hungry and try to eat something?”

He picked at his sweet potatoes to get the attention off him, which worked, because everyone kept talking about other things.

When he put the bug on Rachael’s shoulder she jumped out of her seat and ran into the kitchen, screaming her head off, and his older brother, Merrick, doubled-over laughing, and his mom made him leave the table and go to his room.

His father came around with his unfinished plate a few minutes later. He told him that he needed to “cut the attitude” on a day like today, and that his plate better be cleared off before he went to bed, or he’d be learning some manners later, and he knew what that meant.

He put the bug in a jar and sat watching it crawl around for awhile. It had a wide brown body and long antennae. He didn’t know what kind it was yet, but for his birthday last year his mother got him an encyclopedia listing all the bugs in the United States, so he knew he’d find it there.

He ate some of the mashed potatoes and a few spoonfuls of cranberry sauce. Then he climbed out of his window with an empty jar and went to gather some things for his bug.

On the trail, he filled up the jar with all kinds of sticks and leaves and soil. He had a stomach cramp that was coming and going, but it wasn’t bad enough to make him turn around. He caught a few ants in case the new bug in his room ate those instead.

Now the sun was going down and he was shivering even in his blue cardigan. He would get scolded again for sneaking out, but he didn’t mind it much since he was already in deep shit. Merrick taught him that one. He said dad would whoop him if he heard him talking like that aloud, but in his head where no-one knew about it was okay.

The stomach cramp got worse as he was walking home. He sat down in the grass, doubled over, clutching his stomach. The pain got so sharp his eyes began to water. He didn’t like crying; he never cried, almost never. He didn’t cry whenever he fell down and bloodied his knees, not when branches cut him as he was pushing through the bushes hunting for bugs. He didn’t even cry when the ones in his room stung him.

The cramp got a little better after he rested. When he wasn’t crying anymore, he got up.

His house came into view and he saw that his grandparents car was still in the driveway. He stopped for a moment on the lawn, setting the jar down in the grass, and took off his glasses, wiping his watery eyes down on his sleeve, so that nobody would know he had been crying.

The house was very quiet inside.

He went straight down the hall, clutching the jar over his stomach. The pain was bad now. It was spreading to his chest. His mom might make him see the doctor for it if it didn’t let up soon.

He went into the dining room where his family was still having thanksgiving dinner. He knew that when his mother saw his puffy eyes, she would ask if he had been crying, and that’s when he would tell her about it.

Everyone was at the table, but nobody was talking. His mother was sitting with her back towards him.

“My stomach hurts.” He told her.

But she didn’t move. Nobody moved or did anything. He stood staring at everyone.

Then the jar slipped from his hands and glass and dirt went all over the floor.

He stared and stared at them.

He heard his father outside, in the back yard, calling his name, very loudly.

He didn’t like his father. His father hit his mother. Sometimes, when he ran his mouth, he got belted, too.

He looked some more, at his grandfather stooped over with his face in his food. At his brother Merrick and his sister Rachael. Merrick had fallen out of his chair and lay staring at the ceiling. Rachael had puked all down the front of her dress. All of them had puked. The whole room reeked of puke.

His father yelled again.

He turned around and ran out of the house through the garage. He sprinted down the lawn as fast he could and didn’t let his father see him where he was still calling his name in the backyard.

He kept running all the way to the neighbor’s house. They were having their own dinner inside when he knocked on the door.

Mrs. Fletcher was a woman who his mom went on long walks with. She came to the door and saw him crying.

“Oh-! Asa, dear, what is it? What happened? Is everything alright?”

He was very out of breath. His glasses had fallen off his face. It hurt his chest to talk.

“Missus Fletcher, I ate something bad.”

They took him to the hospital in an ambulance.

The tube they put down his throat made him throw up the first time so they had to give him something that made him feel calmer before they tried again. That time, it worked.

His neighbors and friends of the family came in droves to visit him over the week and brought along plenty of gifts. Police showed up to ask him questions about his father, and a few about his mother, but nobody talked about the rest of his family. No-one seemed to want to bring them up at all, and that’s how he knew they were dead.

[guqin-and-flute]

nieyao or 3zun + prompt 64 with cat!baxia

64. “I think your cat wants to kill me.” [This got way away from me WHOOPS]

“So. This date is going fantastically. Do I make top 10?”

Meng Yao huffed a short, polite laugh through his nose at Mingjue’s rueful question. “Being nursed back to health by a handsome man is certainly adding back points lost in the cat attack,” he replied, and some of the frustrated dread bled from the ball in Mingjue’s chest. “I really could do this myself, you know,” he added.  

Mingjue sighed. “Yeah, well, since it was my cat attack, I feel like I need to make reparations. I’ve also taken First Aid more times than I can count and cat scratches can get really nasty.” 

If this were a one of the sappy romcoms Huaisang loved so much, standing at the sink together as he tended to the 2 gashes scoring down Meng Yao’s forearm with several antiseptic soaked cotton balls had the potential to be romantic. Except Mingjue had never liked those movies and he just felt like a fucking asshole who owned an unruly animal.

He had met Meng Yao at the grocery store. Mingjue had looked up from his phone at the sound of a sharp voice--a middle aged business man was snapping at a young man in front of him in line; "Fucking Christ, you're going to hold up everyone."

"You can go ahead of me if you'd like--"

"There's a whole line of people here! We all have places to go!"

The man being yelled at--(the very attractive man with round, dark eyes, he noted)--had grimaced placatingly, as the cashier was saying, "We can hold his groceries while he goes out, sir, you won't have to wait."

A the business man threw his hands into the air in disgust, Mingjue had slid his phone into his back pocket and interrupted in his 'is this guy bothering you' voice; "What's the problem?"

3 pairs of eyes had darted to him immediately and gone wide. The very good looking man had tensed completely, eyes darting to the door in a way that looked involuntary--and well, Mingjue had been struck by the completely overwhelming urge to tuck him back behind him and make this asshole between them shit his pants in fear. And anyone else that made him look that scared, for that matter. "I'm sorry," the scared, attractive, adorable, fragile-looking, harassed young man had said a tight smile, "I forgot my wallet in my car, we can just--"

"Here," Mingjue slid out his credit card handed it--pointedly--over Mr. Business-Asshole's head to the cashier. "I'll cover it. You know what," he had added, fixing the quickly wilting dickhead with his best 'I-can-bench-press-you-and-then-feed-you-your-own-esophagus-no-problem' stare, "Why don't you get the nice lady behind me, too. Once this guy is done running for the biggest jackass award. I'll wait."

And, you know, weirdly enough, Mr. Asshole had actually left the line, red faced and without his shitty little protein shakes. As the cashier bit back a grin and rung up the card, the harassed young man--who was even prettier up close, holy hell, it made his lower back sweat--had tried to insist that it wasn't necessary, that really, he had the money, he could just go get it, he appreciated it but didn't need Mingjue to put himself out. Mingjue had just shrugged and held out his hand. "It's the principle of the thing. Nie Mingjue."

The man had opened his mouth, looked down at his hand; then, he had smiled and holy goddamn fucking shitballs he had dimples. Shaking it firmly in a hand that was soft and cool and slim, he had said, "Then...thank you. Meng Yao. I'll have to pay you back. Do you have a cash app?"

"Don't bother."

"I insist."

"You can buy me dinner sometime, then," Mingjue's mouth had decided to say without permission, but luckily he agreed with the idea and so had been quite pleased to see Meng Yao's ears go pink.

"...That sounds fair," he replied, finally, those lovely dimples returning.

The cashier had cleared their throat, brightly. "Do you by chance have our loyalty card?"

They agreed on a first date in a public restaurant where they could verify that the other wasn’t some sort of serial killer. It had even been a nice one that Meng Yao had insisted on where they had also shared a bottle of wine and interesting conversation. Meng Yao was exceedingly smart and easy to talk to--the perfect conversational partner with a knack for solving many of the problems that Mingjue hadn't even realized he complained about. In return, he had made his attraction quite clear and Meng Yao had ducked his head.

"I'll have you know that I don't go home with anyone on the first date," he had said carefully, eyes on his fingertip as he ran it around the rim of his wineglass. "It's a personal rule of mine. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression."

"That's fine with me," Mingjue shrugged. "If you're up for it, I'll wait for as many dates outlasts your rule, 'cause I grill a mean steak."

Those dimples came back and he had sat back in his chair, voice light as he asked, "Oh? Won't you get bored?"

Mingjue had snorted and finished off his glass. "Just because I'd like to sleep with you doesn't mean I don't also want to get to know you, you know."

Mingjue was just getting to know the guy, so he couldn't be sure, but that answer seemed to please him.

The night of the cat disaster was the 4th on their run of dates--Mingjue had shooed Huaisang over to Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s house for the night and invited Meng Yao over via text for dinner and a movie and also the option of sex, if he wanted. 

Apparently, the bluntness had made Meng Yao laugh. Mingjue had texted back that he preferred honesty in all things and could handle a ‘no, thanks’ with plenty maturity. Meng Yao had replied, ‘I’m sure you can,’ which, he had very keenly noticed, was not a ‘no, thanks.’

Dinner had gone great--homemade meals always seemed to impress--and they had been preparing to split a chocolate lava cake in front of a shitty action movie they had both agreed on with the understanding that neither of them minded missing anything if they decided fooling around was more interesting.

But now, there was blood everywhere--on the dishes in the sink, on the towel they had hastily staunched it with, on the countertop and the mood was ruined because his giant, grumpy ass cat had decided to savage his date as they were cleaning up the table. Baxia had sniffed his leg suspiciously when he first came in, flinching away as he knelt down to offer his fingers. Then, she had fixed him with a glare, hissed, and turned around and stalked away, fluffy gray tail held high--which, for her, was practically a warm welcome. She had her boys--Huaisang and Mingjue--and hated pretty much everyone else (except for Wei Wuxian's older sister Jiang Yanli when she had dropped him off to hang out with Huaisang when his license got suspended. Which had happened a few times, now).

Everything had been fine with her while they ate--she had even spent it under the table, rubbing up against Mingjue's legs, staring up at Meng Yao without making so much as a peep. It was when they had risen that disaster struck. She had hopped up onto Meng Yao's chair and decided to take personal offense to his existence with absolutely no warning at all when he passed by with his hands full of silverware.

Now, Meng Yao’s long fingers curled into a fist as the cotton passed over a particularly deep part of the slice, though his face remained calm, so Mingjue winced for him. "Sorry. I swear, she's never done this before, I don't know what the hell her problem is."

Meng Yao shook his head, smile pressed and polite as he said, "Really, it's fine." He shifted on his feet to lean his hip against the cupboards and, immediately, Mingjue seized his elbows. 

“Are you dizzy?”

The other man had stiffened at the sudden movement, staring up at him. Then, he blinked and smiled, shaking his head. “No, I'm alright.”

Mingjue eyed him suspiciously. “You’re sure?”

He laughed. “I’m not going into shock, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve had much worse, trust me. I’m not going to pass out.”

Mingjue remained unconvinced. Instead of arguing further, he simply lifted him by the waist to sit on the island across from the sink for lack of a chair. Meng Yao let out the beginning of a squeak, hands automatically flashing up to bunch in the front of his shirt for balance. He blinked down at Mingjue, then the ground, then back at him, eyes wide and nostrils flared. Mingjue couldn't tell if it was annoyance, horniness, or a combination of both--and that was all well and good except that he was still bleeding and he knew from experience what a bitch blood was to get out of clothing. So he just pulled Meng Yao's arm out again and went back to work, asking, "So what was the 'much worse'?"

"Pardon?"

"You said you knew you're not going to pass out because you've had 'much worse'. What's the story there?"

"Ah. No story. I broke my arm. Compound fracture. I stayed awake the whole time, so a cat scratch is fairly minor, in comparison."

Mingjue hissed in through his teeth reflexively in sympathy and scanned him. Either he healed fantastically or the scar was higher up on his arms, under the soft cream sweater sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows--luckily, they had been rolled up before the attack and had escaped blood thus far. "Fuck. How'd that happen?"

"Fell down some stairs."

Mingjue raised an eyebrow at the stark explanation. "Well, maybe you shouldn't fall down stairs. Ever thought of that?"

Meng Yao smiled thinly down at him, dark eyes glinting in the fluorescent lights. "Mm. I'll have to keep that in mind." The dimples he searched for avidly were there, faintly, and Mingjue found himself wanting to nibble on them.

They hadn't done much else besides a kiss goodnight in the shadows near the entrance to the parking garages of their dates, because Mingjue was being good and keeping his hands above the belt. And he should probably figure out whether or not this date was going to have the eject button pressed, first. There was blood everywhere, still.

"Why all the First Aid classes?" Meng Yao asked suddenly, keeping his arm extended out even as Mingjue released him to rummage for the antibacterial spray. "Was it because your demon cat kept attacking people?"

Mingjue barked out a laugh and sprayed down his arm--Meng Yao didn't flinch. "At first, it was for lifeguarding, every summer since I was 16 until I graduated college. Now, I take refresher courses because I run a martial arts studio and shit can get real real fast, especially with newbies who try to fuck around." Tearing open the packet of sterilized gauze with his teeth so he could still hold his arm, he situated it and held it with a gentle thumb. "Tape or gauze wrap?"

Meng Yao shrugged. "I have no preference. Surprise me."

Gauze wrap it was. It would hurt less than pulling tape off his arm later. Meng Yao watched him finish up quietly, ankles linked, posture straight and proper even sitting on a kitchen counter. On impulse, Mingjue lifted his now bandaged arm and kissed the skin of his wrist, just below where the gauze stopped and got a slight shiver for his trouble. He looked up at him, then, an angle he was not used to but was definitely enjoying. "This has been a piss poor date. I really am sorry."

"The dinner was lovely before it ended in bloodshed, I promise," Meng Yao assured him, smiling. Then, it grew a little sly and he leaned in, slowly, stretching his arms out over Mingjue's shoulders to link behind his neck. "Although, you could always kiss it better."

Well, there was no possible way to misinterpret that particular invitation and he heartily took it, snugging Meng Yao up against him with hands on his hips and devouring him just as indulgently as he would the forgotten lava cake cooling on the stove top. He hummed in appreciation as Meng Yao's arms wrapped tighter, his thighs squeezing around his hips as he kissed back with just as much enthusiasm. He tasted like the dry wine they had finished the meal with.

All at once, though, Meng Yao froze, hands stilling in his hair. Before Mingjue had time to be confused, he whispered against his mouth, "I think your cat wants to kill me," eyes fixed on something over Mingjue's shoulder.

Mingjue craned his neck around to find Baxia perched on the counter next to the sink, tail swishing, gaze locked with Meng Yao, ears flicked out to the sides. She let out a low, quiet growl.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Mingjue growled back. "That's it. You're going in Huaisang's room for the night."

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together. 

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

-

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat. 

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

-

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

-

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?”

[renee-writer]

Your clothes came from Kmart and they stayed on layaway until school started. Eating out at a restaurant was a thing every now and then!! Fast food was leftovers at home. Eating popsicles was a treat on a hot day. We had fake cigs for candy and you only needed $1 or less. School was mandatory. You took your school clothes off as soon as you got home and put on your play clothes. If no one was home after school, you jumped the gate or went to the neighbors. Nobody paid for daycare because we had a key to the house to get in when we got home. We ate dinner at the table. Our house phone was always being used. We played Cops and Robbers, 1-2-3 Not It, Red Light Green Light, Hide & Seek, Truth or Dare, Tag, Kick Ball, Dodge Ball and we rode bikes. Girls and Boys played in the street or in the house. We came home when the street lights came on. Children were seen and heard. Staying in the house was a punishment and the only thing we knew about being "bored"--- "You better find something to do before I find it for you!" We ate what mom/dad made for dinner or we ate nothing at all. There was no bottled water; we drank from the tap or the water hose (because there was no coming in and out of the house😑😑🤧)

Phone numbers and address’s were either memorized or written on a folded piece of paper which was kept with you at all times!

Cell phones we knew nothing about. 😂

We watched cartoons on Saturday mornings, and rode our bikes for hours. We ran around in the streets until dark and came in before mom had to find us (the street lights came on).

We were AFRAID OF NOTHING.

We watched our MOUTHS around our elders because our PARENTS WOULD WHOOP OUR BUTTS!!!

These were the good old days.

Kids today will never know how it feels to be a real kid, they will never understand my childhood!!

I loved being a kid!!!

Copied and pasted ! It’s All So True ❤️