#he deserves to be happy and well fed (putting on an apron) i’ll be like a fruit fly i wont stop bothering this guy ever i put the Fruit in

[pastellmochi]

what kind of sicko would come up with this

[msmarvelwrites]

My Girl

Summary: Bucky helps you work through your mental illness.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: reader is working through some holiday depression, eating disorder, fluff. 

Word Count: 1.2k

Authors Note: hey guys! Spoiler alert- I’ve been dealing with a lot of my own mental health these past few weeks. I put a lot of myself into this fic, but at it bones I wrote it to remind you that your not alone. And wouldn’t we all love Bucky Barnes to take care of us on our worst days? Thank you so much to @cutie1365 and @sweeterthanthis for their input and kind words 💖 couldn’t get through it without you babes. Take care of yourselves this holiday season and remember to drink lots of water

It was the happiest season… Of course it was, which is why it had been days since you had stepped foot outside your apartment at the compound. You could count on one hand how many times you had actually been able to eat anything and keep it down let alone have the energy. The holiday season was always one that took a toll on you, but this year it was a real ringer. This year was special.

As you scrolled through your phone, pictures of your body clouded your memory. She seemed happy. You never seemed to register how your smile never reached your hollow eyes. Never noticed how your friends tiptoed around you or casually brought up into conversation how ‘great you look’. You honestly couldn't remember the last time someone told you that. Was that vain to think?

You looked down at your sweater swallowed form. Recovery they called it. You were ‘healthy’ perhaps, but your brain was still just as cloudy. Pride seemed to take over every time you forgot to eat and decided to work instead. Every time you lied to Bucky about what you had done that day you fed your tired body. You had the world's most supportive boyfriend and yet all you felt was disgusting and incredibly lonely. How could a group of superheroes possibly know how you feel?

They couldn't. That was just it.

If the team ever knew about your past, they’d never look at you the same. You had it all together. Your body, now covered in rolls and curves, served as a mask enough. Would they even understand how someone like yourself could even struggle with this?

Bucky would. Which only made it harder not to open up to him. You hadn't seen him in days as he tried to respect your boundaries. Part of you wanted him to break down the door and save you from your own comatosed depression and the other wanted to sink into the floor and have everyone forget you even existed. This was the battle you were faced with almost every night while you sat alone watching Love, Actually for the sixth time.

“Darling?” The deep voice protruded from the other side of the door around 8pm that night, the multi colored Christmas lights all that illuminated your bedroom as your mind wandered into the darkest corners of itself.

You fought with yourself whether or not just to ignore the soft voice but finally you broke as you slid off your bed and patted across the room. You only opened your door a crack as the external light scorched your eyes already too accustomed to the dark.

Bucky stood in all his comfy glory in a pair of heavy sweatpants and a bulky cable knit sweater, his newly cropped hair fluffy as he smiled down at you. He was hesitant as to what he could say next when you spoke.

“Everything okay?” Your voice croaked, clearing your throat immediately as you realised how pitiful you really sounded. It had been at least seventy-two hours since you had actually heard the sound of your own voice and hearing it now made your stomach turn.

“I’m okay, doll. Just coming to check on you.” He responded, his eyes softening when he peered into your dark room, eyebrows knitting together as he looked back to you. Sympathy dripped from his next words. “Do you want some company, maybe?”

You shook your head, trying to find the courage to push away from him when your body went into auto pilot, touch starved and desperate for help. Before you could stop yourself, your arms were around him, your face flush against his chest as you held him close, breathing in his spicy body wash. You wanted nothing more than to come clean, open up and allow him to fix everything you had destroyed in the matter of days.

“Hey, hey.” He cooed, preshing you tight against him as he backed you up into your room, closing the door behind you as you softly sobbed into his sweater. Broken apologies fell from your lips as you tried to make sense of who you had become. How could you let it get this bad? How did you fall off the wagon so easily?

“Y/n?” He hummed into your hair, his vibranium fingers finding their way under the fabric of your sweater as they ran up your skin soothing you. “Y/n, what's going on? Where have you been, my girl? Are you okay.”

You spent the next hour on your bed with Bucky explaining what had been going on. How you struggled with eating, especially this time of year and how well you had been doing. He tried to understand, of course he did. It was Bucky. He didn't ask questions, expect what you needed him to do. You expected nothing less. The man would always be your rock. He would hold you accountable.

That night you had asked him if he would stay, and of course did. You wrapped yourself up in his arms as his hands, metal and flesh lulled you to sleep.

“I’ll never let anything hurt you, my girl. Not even yourself.” He murmured against your skin as you fell into yourself, your mind drifting off to slumber.

The next morning you woke up alone, your mind still foggy from the night before and your eyes swollen from your tears. Bucky’s side of the bed was made but you could tell he hadn't been up for too long. Rolling over you looked at your phone, opening a missed text.

Bucky: A loving reminder with no pressure attached- that your body deserves and needs nourishment regardless of what emotions you are experiencing or how you think your body looks. It would be great if you could meet me downstairs for breakfast, but if you can't I’ll be up soon.

You looked down at your phone, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your heart swell in your chest. You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you slid out of bed and began getting ready for the first day out of your room. Suddenly you weren’t alone. You had Bucky to hold you accountable and more than that, you had yourself.

“Merry Christmas.” Bucky chuckled as you patted into the kitchen, greeting the rest of the team as they smiled back at you. No one spoke of the days you had missed or the meetings you were unaccounted for. Only Wanda, who pulled you against her in embase as she whispered how much she missed you in your ear.

“Is that today?” You chuckled, reaching out for the fresh mug of coffee Bucky had brought over to you as he placed a chased kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so glad you came down. I’d love it if we could eat together for a minute. Steve’s making pancakes.” He gestured to a very joyful Captain America who was sporting his Christmas apron and a few splatters of pancake mix on his face. You chuckled at the sight, burying your head in Bucky’s chest as you both laughed.

You nodded slowly, forcing yourself to the breakfast table where Bucky met you minutes later with two plates of food. You stared at it for a long moment before finding your boyfriend's eyes already on you, filled with understanding.

“One step at a time, my girl. I’m here.”

Border made by the talented @chrissquares

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[amyscascadingtabs]

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

Three different New Year's Eves, as celebrated by Jake and Amy (and Mac).

read on ao3 💕

december 31st, 2019.

The hotel guests checking in before Jake and Amy are a family. A little girl with blonde hair, maybe four or five years old, is carrying her own pink backpack and making up dance steps around her father’s feet as he goes through the information with the receptionist, and an even younger boy is hiding behind his mother’s legs as he watches the people in the lobby with wide eyes. Looking up, Amy realizes that the mother’s open coat is revealing a baby bump, too. She’d put her at six, maybe seven months pregnant. Three kids. Amy feels a pang of jealousy.

Even with the observation skills of an experienced detective, it shocks her how good she’s become at picking out families and pregnant women in any crowd. It’s an interesting talent, but measured against the pain it causes her, Amy wouldn’t call it a very useful one. She notices Jake looking at the kids as well, a daydreaming look on his face, and somehow, that makes her pain worse.

The idea behind going away to a hotel upstate for New Year’s was so they could get away from the stress for a moment; go somewhere else, rest and relax, forget about the pregnancy master calendar they’ve stared themselves blind at for a few days. Amy didn’t realize how impossible it would be to get away from all the other reminders.

She draws a breath of relief when the family in front of them gets the keys to their room, the little girl running first towards the elevator and her brother laughing as he chases after.

“Cute kids,” Jake whispers, watching them longingly.

“Yeah.” Amy tries not to think about the negative pregnancy test she threw away in the bathroom trashcan before they left. “Really cute.”

//

“I’m excited you said we could drink tonight.” Jake toasts his White Russian with her glass of Sauvignon. “It’s been a while.”

“I know, “ Amy feels the guilt wash over her. “Well, it’s not New Year’s Eve every day. I think we’ve earned it.” And I already took a negative test, she thinks.

“We sure have.” He gives her a closer look, pressing his lips together like he always does when he’s worried about her. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just tired,” she says. It’s not technically a lie. “I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Lucky we have a huge hotel bed to help with that tonight, then. Seriously, this place rocks.”

Amy’s prepared to agree on that part – she did her research the moment it stood clear they would both get New Year’s Eve off. After getting their room, they’ve spent the evening getting massages in the hotel spa, dining at the surprisingly nice restaurant, and now they’re admiring the view from the bar on the top floor, waiting for the fireworks. It’s the perfect little getaway, exactly what they needed. It would be even better if she could only stop thinking.

“So, tell me.” Jake holds her hand over the table, forcing her back to reality. “Five top moments for us 2019, go. Countdown-stylez.”

“Number five!” She rolls the r and holds on the i, earning herself an amused look from the older couple next to them. “Okay, I’m going to go with… that date you took me on for my birthday. I can’t believe you got into the puzzle bar this time!”

“I might have convinced the guard to let me in because it was your birthday, but still a good one. Number fooo-uur… the Cinco de Mayo-heist. God, that was fun, even if the tasing hurt like a bitch.”

“Agreed. Number three – when Holt finally invited us to that dinner party and I almost didn’t lose my cool once.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe. Number two… the Jake way. Seriously, I still think we should try that again. It was awesome.”

“It was, but also way inappropriate,” she reminds him, but he just shrugs. “Number one, then.”

“I know which one is mine, but you go first.”

Amy swallows, then sighs. “Mine is after the manhunt. When we decided to start trying. That’s still my favorite moment.”

“Mine, too.” Jake looks her in the eyes, and she knows the bittersweet feeling is shared. “It’s going to happen, Ames. I know it. Maybe this month’s the one.”

Amy doesn’t have the strength to correct him, tell him she’s already taken an early test and that she’s lacking any confidence there’s going to be a second line when she tests again in a couple of days. Luckily, she doesn’t have to, because right then, the fireworks that have been going off a few at a time in the distance begin to multiply as the countdown starts.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

Amy leans forward so she can be kissing him already when the new year begins.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

The crowd around them erupts into cheers as the sky glows with colorful explosions when burning bits of metal lighting up the darkness outside. Jake kisses her deeper, seeming to forget that there are people around with a bit of alcohol in his system and his hands cupping her face. For a moment, Amy lets herself just be happy.

~

december 31st, 2020.

The instant Amy closes her eyes for the more-than-well-deserved nap Jake told her to take while he made dinner, Mac begins to cry from his crib again.

“McClane, please,” Amy pleads, as if reasoning with her two-month-old would solve his discontent. “You can't seriously be hungry again, that’s insane.”

She tries with the pacifier first, checking his diaper, even standing up and walking around with him for a bit to eliminate anything else, but Mac is still clenching his fists and only looking even more furious with her, so Amy gives in. She sits down with him again, unhooks one side of the bra and lets him find his grip, exhaling when the peaceful suckles begin and the desperate crying finally ceases. She swears it looks like her son is side-eyeing her for taking too long, but to her defense, she fed him for a good forty-five minutes only a little over an hour ago and it's exhausting being used like a human pacifier. Growth spurt, Camila Santiago said when Amy called her in tears yesterday, and the problem-shooting section in the 0-3 months baby-binder had agreed. Amy would argue that sounds way too innocent for something which is turning her otherwise happy and smiley baby into a constantly hungry and crying mini-monster who won't close his eyes for more than twenty minutes at a time.

There's a soft knock on the door after a few minutes, and Jake peeks in. He’s wearing his fancy kitchen apron, which Charles gave him for Christmas with the comment that there’s nothing sexier than a dad who can cook. It hasn’t magically improved his cooking skills, but Amy’s willing to admit that it does look good on him.

“You guys doing okay?”

“He is, for now. I’m going crazy. How’s our dinner going?”

“Well, I haven’t burnt it yet, but there’s still time,” he grimaces, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything, babe?”

“Sleep, but that’s not going to happen.” Amy rubs her eyes. “It’s fine. He’s got to fall asleep at some point, though, this is nuts.”

“Don’t challenge him, he’s breaking records,” Jake says, leaning forward to tickle Mac’s feet. Mac reacts by kicking at the boob he’s not currently feeding from, making Amy curse. “Oops, sorry. Anyway, I’m sure he will fall asleep at some point, and we can have a nice, calm New Year’s dinner. I mean, he has to be exhausted, right?”

“God, I hope so. I’m starving.” She can see Mac’s eyelids getting heavy, but every time she thinks they’re about to fall closed, it’s like he twitches and stares at her, wide awake. “He’s lucky he’s cute.”

Jake grins. “Lucky indeed.”

Mac starts pulling away at that moment, a little bit of milk still dribbling from his cheeks. Amy reaches for one of the muslin blankets that’s never more than a few feet away in their home nowadays, lifting him so he’s upright against her shoulder and patting him on the back. She expects a burp, but instead, she gets an unpleasant surprise when he spits up, managing to get sour baby puke down her back and in her already greasy hair. She groans, giving Jake an exhausted look when she sees him stifling a chuckle.

“Hey, I’ll take him. You go take a shower and I’ll put him in the BabyBjörn. Maybe that will do it.”

“That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said,” Amy mumbles, and she’s not entirely kidding.

She makes the shower as long as she possibly can. Most days, she has to shower with Mac in the baby bouncer on the bathroom floor, so even the chance to be alone in the bathroom for more than five minutes feels like a luxury. She lets the shampoo really lather and the conditioner take its time to sink in, trying to massage the knots in her neck and shoulders under the hot water. She can hear Mac still fussing from the kitchen, and it makes her feel guilty even though he’s barely left her arms today.

“He’s fine,” she whispers to herself like a mantra. “He’s fine. Jake can handle it. He’s perfectly fine. Everything’s okay. You deserve this.”

She still skips the make-up and nicer clothes she had been planning to put on, throwing on a pair of maternity leggings and one of Jake’s old hoodies instead.

The dinner looks fantastic, some sort of chicken baked in the oven with rice and a lemon sauce, and Amy’s actually impressed. She imagines it would have been even nicer if she could have eaten it warm and together with Jake, but they only make it through toasting in orange soda and the first two bites before Mac wakes up from his ten-minute-nap, wailing as if he truly believed he’d just been abandoned. They end up having to take turns eating and walking laps around the living room with him, because he starts crying again if they stop moving for a second or as much as make an attempt to put him down. Amy is suddenly relieved they said no to her brother Tony’s New Year’s party-invite.

She can barely believe it when after what feels like the fiftieth or so feed of the day, Mac falls asleep. Curled up like a little frog on her chest and letting out the cutest of baby snores, he finally seems to relax, and Amy doesn’t even dare to breathe too sharply for the first ten minutes. Eventually, though, once it seems like he’s not going to wake up from the slightest movement or a raised voice anymore, Jake tucks them both in under a blanket and gets the Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and orange soda from the fridge. Then he gets another blanket for himself, and they snuggle up together in the corner of the sofa in front of the tv. From live footage at Times Square, Amy can see crowds of people waiting for the ball to drop.

“Wishing you were there?” Jake winks, but she just laughs.

“Are you kidding? Cold, crowded, and you can never even get a good view. This is better in every way.” She strokes her thumb over Mac’s dark hair. “I have this one and you. That’s all I need. And ice cream,” she adds, digging out a piece of cookie dough from the tub.

“You’re right, it’s pretty damn close to perfection. Top five moments of 2020?”

Amy shakes her head, pointing to Mac. “No point. They’re all about him, anyway, and they’re all too good to compare.”

“True that.” Jake shakes his head. “Hey, isn’t it crazy that although he’s been kind of a nightmare today, I’ve already forgiven him?”

“No, it makes perfect sense, because I’ve almost wanted to give him away several times and now I can’t even remember why.”

“Having a baby makes us kind of crazy, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.”

“Me neither. Not even if I was offered a role in the next Die Hard-movie and Taylor Swift did the soundtrack.”

“That’s pretty big,” Amy laughs, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Would Taylor Swift do the soundtrack for Die Hard, though? Realistically speaking?”

“It’s a daydream, Ames!”

She has no time for a comeback, though, because right then, the countdown starts on the tv and Jake raises the volume a few bars so they can hear.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

p;

“New Year’s kiss,” Amy says, holding Mac up slightly so they can both reach him.

Three, two, one… happy new year!

They both smother his cheeks with kisses at the same time as the fireworks explode over the sky in the distance outside their windows and the crowd begins to cheer on tv. Mac doesn’t even flinch, completely oblivious to the celebrations going on outside. Amy sighs.

“How can he magically sleep through all of this, but wake up the second I put him down in his crib at night?”

Jake shrugs. “Babies, man.”

~

december 31st, 2021.

Amy has only started to take off Mac’s winter overall before he starts trying to flee, kicking wildly with his boots and pointing towards the kitchen where he’s already spotted Rosa. Jake notices her struggle and is quick to help her, and the instant the toddler is free, he hurries off towards his best friend.

“Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo!”

“Mac! Hey, happy new year, man!” Before Amy can even take off her own jacket, Mac is already in Rosa’s arms and babbling excitedly as he plays with her gold necklace. Amy wonders how much of what Mac’s saying actually makes sense to Rosa, but she’s nodding and smiling and seems to have abandoned whoever she was previously talking to in favor of the one-year-old.

“Jake. Amy.” Kevin appears to take their coats, shaking their hands. “Welcome. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres are in the living room, and I see your small child has made himself at home.”

“He found Rosa, yep.” Jake grins. “And he has a name.”

“Ah, yes… McClane.” Kevin nods. “Very well. I have to go check on… the kitchen. Enjoy your evening.”

  “He’s never going to like me,” Jake whispers to Amy the moment he’s left.

“Well, I think we both might have lost a few points with the name choice, babe.”

“He’s one to talk names, he’s got a dog named after a cheese!”

“I know, but we can’t tell him that. Come on, Jake, I have to find something to chew on before I get sick.”

“You can always blame it on the alcohol, if you do.”

“Jake.”

“Just kidding,” he grins. “You go check on Mac and Rosa and I’ll locate the snacks.”

 It turns out Rosa is more than willing to guard Mac for the evening, currently showing him the model train she's found in the library. Mac is watching with focus as Rosa helps him turn on the button that makes the train drive around the tracks, laughing as it lets out a choo-choo sound.

“Your son is much cooler than the rest of these lame partygoers,” she shrugs when Amy asks her if she's sure it's fine. “He says what he's thinking, unlike the rest of all these dum-dums.”

“Dum-dums,” Mac repeats, proud. Rosa nods.

“Exactly. I’ll call you if something happens.”

 And so, in an unexpected turn of events, Amy finds herself able to sit down for most of the evening without having to chase a wild toddler around to keep him from whatever dangers he could somehow manage to get himself into in Holt’s and Kevin’s house. She supposes it looks quite antisocial of her, and maybe it is, but she’s six weeks pregnant and the early symptoms of nausea and fatigue seem to be coming on both stronger and faster the second time around, so Amy doesn’t really care. She’s got lemon sparkling water for a non-alcoholic drink, a paper plate of carrot sticks, salted crisps and almonds, and she’s not going to talk to anyone unless they sit down next to her. It’s practically heaven. Jake checks on her from time to time, assuring her multiple times that they can just leave early if she wants to, but however tired she feels, Amy doesn’t want to insult Holt that badly. They’re staying until midnight as per proper New Year’s party etiquette, and then — and not a second later — they can go home so she can crash in bed.

 Rosa finds her again when Mac begins to get sleepy, rubbing his eyes and yawning but still shaking his head when Amy asks if he's feeling a little tired. He crawls over to her arms anyway, laying his head on her shoulder and hugging his arms around her chest.

“Thanks for looking after him,” she tells Rosa, but she just shrugs.

“No worries. I don't get to hang out with him enough. Your kid is dope.”

“Douh,” Mac whispers, mimicking her, and Rosa laughs.

“Repeats every word you tell him, too,” Amy says. “Yeah, he’s pretty awesome. Come over to our apartment at five-thirty in the morning on any weekend and you can hang out with him all you want. I won't stop you.”

Rosa scrunches her nose. “I’ll consider it.”

“He’s in a great mood then, I can assure you that.”

“I'll take your word for it. Also, Jake was tipsy talking baby names with some etymology professor when I saw him last, and he seemed very intense about it for a guy who's not currently thinking of naming any new babies. Or?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No, he just get thats intense when somebody implies McClane is a weird name,” Amy says, and makes a note to herself to remind Jake about their agreement not to tell anyone else at least until the twelve-week mark. “Which, to be fair, I warned him that people would think. But here we are anyway.”

“It is a weird name. Couldn’t imagine him being called anything else, though, even if I still don’t understand why you agreed to it.”

“There was a really good PowerPoint involved.”

Rosa looks at her questioningly, but Amy shakes her head, knowing there’s no point in explaining the unexplainable.

“Hmm. You guys are weird. You make pretty great kids, though.”

“Yeah.” Mac has fallen asleep by now, drooling a little bit on Amy’s shoulder. She kisses the top of his head and thinks of the abstract idea of her second kid, the thump-thump of an already present heartbeat they got so lucky as to hear on an early ultrasound yesterday. “The best.”

 As midnight draws closer, most of the guests take on jackets, scarves and shoes to venture out into the garden to watch fireworks. Not wanting to be left out, Amy and Jake manage to get a half-sleeping Mac, who wakes up suddenly interested when he hears about the promise of fireworks, into his overall and join them. It’s a surprisingly good view from the garden, the cold winter air waking them up, and Jake points out the vibrant displays in the sky to a drowsy Mac, who blinks at them dazedly. It’s so cute it makes Amy tear up. Being both a mom and newly pregnant does that to her; she’s given up trying to fight it.

  It’s hard to believe that two years ago, she was toasting in champagne in a hotel bar and wondering if they would ever make a baby together, and now she’s standing in a garden watching Jake with their one-year-old son and knowing that next New Year’s, if all goes well, they’ll be parents of two.

“What are you thinking of?” Jake must see her tears, because he looks worried, but Amy just smiles.

“Just how quickly things can change. How happy I am. And how much I love you.”

“Love you, too. Top three-hundred-and-sixty-five moments of this year,” Jake says, hugging her close so they’re standing in a little family bubble. “Every single day I get to wake up with and then come home to my family.”

  Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four…

  They both lean in so they can smother their son with kisses, and he laughs as he figures out what’s about to happen.

 Three, two, one… happy new year!

  The sky explodes with color, Jake and Amy attack their son with kisses, and as the new year begins, Amy thinks she might just be the luckiest person in the entire world.

~

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (5/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

If there was someone or something overseeing their lives, pulling the strings of their destiny and purposefully nudging them toward specific paths, then Clarke wanted a fucking word with them.  

It was a surprise, if not a shock, when she saw Lexa stroll into the shop with her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. It was barely a week after Clarke had resolved not to think about her anymore, a plan that hadn't always been successful. Lexa walked toward the counter with a proud chin, as if nothing had changed.

"Good morning," she said.

Clarke could have thrown a mini Bundt cake at her if Wells hadn't nearly burnt his apron making them.

"It was," she answered, deciding that professionalism was not in the cards today.

“I’ll have some pie, please."

“Humble?”

Lexa set her jaw. “And what would that taste like?”

Clarke smiled sardonically. “Bitter.”

Lexa held her stare before looking at the display. "I think I'll try the mini Bundt."

"For here or to go?" Clarke asked as she rang it up.

Lexa seemed disappointed to see that her usual seat by the weeping fig was occupied.

"Looks like it's busy."

"Faithful clientele," Clarke retorted, and then, "for the most part."

Lexa exhaled sharply before pulling out her wallet to pay in cash. "No problem, I'll have it to go."

Clarke put the mini Bundt in a paper bag. "No coffee?" she asked, though she didn't care much for the answer.

"Not today."

"I'm sorry we're fresh out of kale juice." It was a snippy comment that Clarke knew she was above making, but Lexa's sudden reappearance had touched a nerve.  

Whatever Lexa wanted to say, she visibly stopped herself. She grabbed her mini Bundt and then pulled out a sheet of paper from her bag.

"Would you mind if I put this up? It's the ad for interviews."

"I offered, didn't I?"

"Offers change."

"I don't go back on my word," Clarke answered stubbornly.

Lexa challenged her stare before nodding and walking toward the board. She scanned over each flyer, seemingly trying to figure out which one she could put hers next to. Finally she pinned it near the middle right. It was a sober flyer; no bold colors or giant fonts, but eye-catching in its minimalism compared to the busier ads surrounding it. As always, Lexa stuck to the basics.

Carrying her mini Bundt, she gave Clarke one last look before leaving. Clarke noticed the tip she'd left and hung her head before going back to her doodles. It was going to be a slow, rainy day.

* * *

It was a slow, rainy week. The wind came first; strong gusts that swept up old leaves and knocked down hats. A downpour followed on Wednesday, unrelenting and miserable. Customers came into the shop drenched, sticking their umbrellas in the already full rack by the entrance before rubbing their cold hands together.

Clarke liked watching their faces; the expressions of relief at finally finding some shelter and comfort from the brutal rain. It was gloomy outside but the café was everyone's home for a little while, the colors still warm and the plants still thriving. She couldn't help but enjoy these moments regardless of the cold, remembering this feeling was exactly why she'd gotten into this business in the first place.

Still, Clarke was human. An hour before closing time she was already fantasizing about hot tomato soup and the comfort of her bed. She'd finished chatting with a regular when Wells came in looking like he'd run a mile to get here. He usually left much earlier than she did, but sometimes swung back to check on things before driving to meet Raven at the theater.

"You want to read this," he told her with barely contained excitement, clutching his phone against his soaked raincoat.

He rounded the counter and showed her the screen. It was an article from the Costial Gazette with a damning title:

Finn's Coffee & Bagels: Neither Fresh nor Clean

"What is this?" Clarke asked, skimming the article. There were mentions of false advertising, misleading business practices, trouble brewing with the Federal Trade Commission, mentions of artificial preservatives despite claims of the contrary, and, to top off the proverbial shit cake, an anonymous employee detailing horrid management. It was a scalding report - one Clarke had dreamed of writing herself.  

Understandably, Wells couldn't stop grinning. "This is good, right? Especially the FTC stuff. Bad for him, good for us."

Clarke was about to answer when a thought struck her. She quickly scrolled back up: By Echo Blake and Lexa Woods.

Clarke shut her eyes closed. So maybe she'd jumped to conclusions when she'd seen Lexa at his shop. Maybe she'd made it personal. Who wouldn't? Lexa was still… Lexa. Impossible to read and impossible to understand.

"Titus will drop him for sure," Wells mused aloud. "How the hell did Finn get the old man to carry his brand anyway?"

"Money. Connections. Empty promises." Clarke had no doubt about that. "That's mostly how Finn gets what he wants."

Wells was still smiling from ear to ear when he texted Raven a link to the article. "Looks like it finally bit him in the ass. We should send the Gazette a Thank You cake."

Clarke leaned her elbows on the counter and let out a noncommittal grunt.

"What's wrong?" Wells asked. "I thought you'd be happy about this."

"Oh I'm happy. Just thinking about the humble pie I'm gonna have to eat myself."

* * *

Naturally, Clarke had to wait another week before Lexa dared show up again. She'd noticed that her ad had attracted some attention - curious customers reading it and then pocketing a tear-off tab - and was anticipating Lexa would come in to either replace it or take it down.

When she did, it was during the usual afternoon lull and Clarke felt nervous. Now that she knew her anger had stemmed from… well, a combination of things but also an overreaction, she was embarrassed by the way she'd previously spoken to Lexa.

When Lexa walked in, Clarke was cleaning one of the coffee machines. It was her distorted reflection that she saw in the nozzle; her discreet gait as she walked toward the board and unpinned her ad. Clarke figured she would leave immediately, but Lexa approached the counter. Her eyes scanned over the display glass.

"Can I get you anything?" Clarke tentatively asked.

Lexa looked up and readjusted the strap of her satchel. "Are there any baby Bundts left?"

Clarke shook her head. "All out. It's pecan tartlet week. But Wells liked making them, burnt apron aside - we could put them back in the rotation this month."

Lexa seemed surprised Clarke even suggested something that would please her. "That's alright; I'll just wait."

"Regular coffee?" Clarke asked.

Lexa nodded while looking away. "Sure."

As Clarke poured Lexa's regular in a paper cup, she couldn't help but feel like this was their first conversation all over again. Odd and stilted but also one that she didn't want to end so soon. Clarke capped the coffee and turned to her.

"I read your article on FC&B. It's really good." She gave her the cup. "Personal bias aside."

A small smile graced Lexa's face and Clarke felt a thrill. "My co-writer did most of the investigative work."

"But you did some too," Clarke remembered, knowing Lexa would also recollect the time Clarke had spotted her in Finn's shop. "Tried their juice and everything."

Lexa's nose scrunched subtly. "If that's what you want to call it. But still, Echo deserves the credit for the piece. It was her story from the beginning; I was mostly a sounding board."

Something about Lexa dismissing her own work bothered Clarke. "Don't do that."  

"Do what?"

"I've read your stuff before; I know there was some of you in that article. Just take the compliment, Lexa."

There was that fierce light in Lexa's eyes again. "It's not fully mine to take."

"I guess they just put your name on there to fill space?"

Lexa pressed her lips together, unimpressed with the sarcasm.

Clarke huffed. "Why are you so-" She couldn't even finish her question, unsure where to start. Why couldn't they communicate normally? Why did every sentence feel like a mountain to climb? And how on earth did Lexa push her buttons without even lifting a finger?

"You're frustrated," Lexa pointed out.

"I am."

"With me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. I've been told I can be frustrating before."

She said it with such a jaded expression that Clarke couldn't help but laugh. "God, how could I ever think…"

"Think what?" Lexa asked without skipping a beat.

Clarke shook her head and walked to the end of the counter. "Nothing."

Lexa followed. "You know, I'm not the only one who sidesteps questions."

There was something unnerving about her tone, like she was challenging her, and Clarke wasn't known to be a graceful loser.  

"You don't want the answers."

"Try me. You might be surprised."

Clarke scoffed, then decided she wouldn't back away any longer. "What do you really want to ask, Lexa?" It was the same turn of phrase Lexa had used on her at the bar; the frustration of unspoken truths reaching a boiling point. 

"What did you see?" Lexa inquired, never once looking away from her.  

Clarke hesitated. They couldn't do this here, now… could they?

"Clarke," Lexa said, almost like a plea. 

Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever heard her name said that way. She waited a beat. "Fine. I saw you."

Lexa visibly swallowed. "What about me?"

"You're a journalist. Guess."

"Good journalists don't guess. I would need some information to first form a hypothesis and then-"

"You kissed me," Clarke interjected, fed up with logic.

Lexa's mouth clamped shut, so Clarke continued:

"And I mean you kissed me everywhere. Is that enough to form a hypothesis?"

Lexa processed for a moment, her cheeks a shade darker. "It explains… things."

"Why?" Clarke paused, thinking it through. "Did you have…"

"Yes."

"The same?"

"Not exactly."

"Well? Spit it out."

Lexa looked around them, but no one paid them any attention. "I was making coffee. In my underwear.”

Clarke frowned, unsure she'd heard her correctly. "You're kidding, right? I make coffee every day, how is that so embarrassing you couldn't tell me?"

"No, you don't understand," Lexa weakly said. "I don't… like… coffee. Hate it. Any hot beverage actually."

"You hate coffee," Clarke repeated incredulously, eyes going to the very cup Lexa was holding.  

"But I was making it," Lexa reiterated. "In an apartment that wasn't mine. With doodles framed everywhere. After recognizing the style, I figured… I was making it for you."

Clarke stepped back, bewildered. She had never once thought that Lexa might've seen the same thing she had, or something close, or even seen her. She wasn't even sure what that meant, if anything at all.

"Oh."

"Yes."

It was like everything had shifted in the span of a few seconds, the before and after she had revealed what she'd seen. It was different now. Lexa knew, and she knew, and everything that had brought them here took on a different meaning. Lexa starting a dialogue; Lexa inviting her to a play; Lexa catching her eyes from across a room. She had been trying to solve a puzzle too; trying to understand what she might've missed before.

But.

Something between them never quite… locked. For the first time, Clarke realized that Lexa was just as wildly out of her depth as she was. Even in her anger she'd put Lexa on a pedestal; seen her as the diligent journalist with the clever words and the impenetrable stare. Now she saw Lexa as someone looking for answers just as she was. They'd both been trying to form a connection based on a vision - maybe that was the problem.

"Well, that kind of takes the surprise out of it," she said, finally exhaling.

Lexa opened and shut her mouth, unsure where to go from there. She settled on a mute nod while Clarke fiddled with her hands, glancing toward the front door and praying for someone to walk in. No such miracle happened quickly enough.

"Thank you for telling me." Lexa had gone quieter; introspective in the way Clarke was used to.

"Yep." Clarke rubbed the back of her neck. "It's probably for the best that- I mean, it's a relief actually."

"It is. I'm sorry if I acted strangely," Lexa said. "I was confused."

"Right. Because we barely knew each other."

"Exactly."

"And I mean… we were both clearly trying to see if there was something… there, and, I don't know that-"

Lexa's eyes flashed to hers. "No, of course not. I'm just a customer."

Clarke frowned. "I didn't say that."

"But it's true. We were drawn to each other because of something out of our control. It's something I've heard a lot in recent interviews. A guy walking up to a woman after he had a vision of her dress. A wife divorcing her husband because she had a vision of herself accepting a drink from a stranger."  

Lexa seemed to have gone back into business mode and Clarke didn't know if it was some sort of deflecting mechanism. Regardless, Clarke had never felt this awkward in her life. Like she might trip on her own feet if she even moved.

"So the visions push us to act a certain way," she tried to catch on.

Lexa nodded. "I'm exploring the theory that they're just one thread among hundreds of others. No one is forced to pull that one specifically. Nothing is ever inevitable."

Clarke didn't know what else she could do but nod in acknowledgment. That was it? People got life-altering information from their visions but she got a theory from the woman she shared the supposedly most exciting event of her life with?

"I'm glad we could clear the air."

"Absolutely," Lexa agreed.

Silence stretched for what felt like a minute before Lexa looked at her watch. "Speaking of interviews, I have a phone call soon."

"Great. Hope it's helpful."

"I'm sure it will be."

When Lexa started to leave, Clarke suddenly remembered something. "Wait!"

Lexa looked at her with wide eyes, practically in disbelief Clarke would want to prolong the excruciating moment.

"One more thing," Clarke said.  

"Yes?"

Clarke took a deep breath. "Was it a date?"

Lexa frowned. "What?"

"When you offered me a ticket to Lincoln's play. When you mentioned the after party. Were you asking me out?"

"You'd mentioned wanting to see a play," Lexa stammered. "I had the spare ticket."

"Did you want to pull the thread, Lexa?" Clarke asked, feeling a surge of confidence. Now that the secret was out, she needed to know everything. She needed their bizarre back-and-forths to have an explanation.  

Lexa froze. "I'm a journalist; I investigate. You were my only lead."

It affected her more than it should have, considering Clarke had promised herself she wouldn't let Lexa Woods get to her again.

Lexa must've noticed. "I didn't mean - you're obviously not just-"

"It's fine. I get it. I wanted to be sure too." Clarke turned to grab a towel for the counter. "It's like you said: nothing is inevitable. I'm glad we got it squared away."

Lexa nodded weakly. "So everything can go back to the way it used to be."

"Sure."  

"I look forward to tomorrow's new batch," Lexa told her politely before leaving.

Clarke dropped her towel and sat on the stool they kept behind the counter. Lexa was back in her life, but somehow it felt worse to return to normal. Somehow all Clarke could think about was that Lexa wanted to pull their damn thread but something was keeping her from it.

And maybe it was time to admit she might’ve hoped Lexa and her were inevitable.

- 

[part six]

[moonlightstars16]

“Your Order, Universe”

30 Days Connverse Challenge

Day 14 ~ Homework and/or Job work

It was a busy day in the diner. Customers came in for the lunch rush and Connie was literally skating past them, making sure they got everything they ordered in a more sufficient amount of time. This was only a part-time job to help her with funds for things to do and such. Her parents already got her college tuition covered, but that didn't leave much for her to spend on. Which was okay, rather earning money than begging for it on little things.

Her uniform was just an apron, her name tag and hair pulled back. She added the skates to help her out. Sighing inwardly from the already tiring lunch rush, she set down a few plates of food with a smile. The family she was waiting on was so much nicer than her average customers. One can only be 'hangry'(hungry-angry), for so long before one realizes being rude is apart of their personality. Setting the sweet young boy and girl their chocolate shakes, with extra toppings because they have been so good amongst all the crazy.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Oh thank you, we're good. But please tell us how you manage to keep a smile on your face even amongst all the chaos?" The mother spoke with a slight concerned expression.

"Well to tell you the truth I don't know myself." Connie joked with a laugh as the family did the same. "Actually there is one reason-" Before she could finish, the regulars around her were gesturing and informing of the familiar portal opening right in front of the diner. The family looked outside and gasped as a huge pink lion came out. The children gasping with chocolate covered mouths in awe and wonder while the parents had a terrified expression.

"What the heck?!" The father getting up quickly from his seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

"Oh don't worry. His name is Lion and he's such a friendly creature. In fact he's apart of my family. But if you will excuse me." She glanced at the cook's window and smiled when her gestured the 'okay' sign for her to go on break. "I have someone meeting me here." In a rush, skating down past the tables, while the regulars came up to the family to explain, and ran out the door to hug the gentle animal. Lion licked her face before allowing Connie to hug and sink into his soft mane, laying his head over her shoulder.

"How's my sweet Lion? Huh?" She kissed his head while rubbing and petting his sides and all over. Making him sit and lay on the ground, rolling into his back. She rubbed his belly ignoring the stares from the people inside.

"Funny, I thought it was 'our' sweet Lion." With a gasp she looked up and smiled brightly at a familiar half gem who stood right before her. Hands in his jacket pocket, a beanie on half on the backside of his head with a few black locks(more so in the front), around the brim.

"Steven!" A smile on his face as she leapt into his arms, whilst he held on tight and spun her around a couple of times. Her laughter is always his favorite song. Chuckling he set her down before being attacked by an intense kiss to which he complied easily. "I didn't think I would see you back so soon!" Connie exclaimed pulling back and looking up at him. Taking in all his facial features...again. She had done that every time they met since he left from Beach City almost a year ago.

"Two months is too long. Man I have so much to tell you."

"Well before you do, are you hungry?" Her question was answered when his stomach growled loudly. Making him blush with a smile, hand behind his head rubbing his neck. Without another word she grabbed his arm and lead him back into the diner. Having him sit on the counter since the rest of her shift would behind it as well. Her co-worker's took the rest of the floor.

After a good hand-washing and telling the cook the special order for him, she went back to work. "You're Order, Universes." She said semi playfully while setting down his food a few minutes later. Continuing to serve other customers while glancing at his direction every chance she could get.

Listening as Steven told her about going by Empire City to play a gig, then going to a little country town and somehow meeting an old singer his dad used to love when he was a kid. A couple of pictures texted and Greg was there in less than two hours. Which would've taken four usually. Connie giggled shaking her head.

"It was the most bizarre thing to see. My dad, fanboying in front of his favorite music artist who inspired him to go into the business. I never had seen him that happy before." Lifting the mug of hot tea to his lips, allowing the sweet, Green tea to sooth his throat.

"I think you gave your dad a great gift." Wiping up the counters from the lulled time between the lunch and dinner rush. "I'm sure he was beyond grateful."

"Oh he was, it was amazing. ... wait.... I just gave him the ultimate gift..."

"Yes?" An empty dish bucket/tray at her hip with an arm on the rim, picking up the leftover dished around the other tables.

"I can't top that! Any other gift will be put to shame. Oh what will I do?!" A hand over his forehead as he leaned back in a dramatic fashion. Earning a slap on the stomach with a rag from Connie. Steven winced and rubbed where she hit him. "Hey I was joking...well sort of."

"Steven, you can give your dad a lot of things and he'll appreciate them because it came from your heart." Sighing she picked up the dishes on the table she waited on a few hours ago. Picking up the napkin holder to clean it, she gasped upon seeing the wad of cash and a note attached with her name on it. Reading the contents she covered her mouth with tears in her eyes.

"Connie?" Steven stood up and walked over to her as she turned to him with the entire five hundred dollars in cash. "What the-?"

"The parents are supporters of Jay Hawk University. I had conversed with them about it for a bit whenever I brought them their drinks. The mom is a recruiter as well and the dad teaches too! They said as soon as I send in my applications this coming year, and my grades are good, I'll be accepted! I don't know why, they didn't really explain much other than they liked my integrity, positive attitude and creative critical thinking skills." She gestured to the skates while trying not to cry other than a few tears falling from her cheeks.

"I think that's a great reason Connie! That's awesome, I'm so proud of you!" He spoke giving her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

"I-I'm going to Jay Hawk.... I'm going to get in!" With  a happy squeal she hid the money in her pocket and wiped away her tears. Steven smiled widely, watching as she finished her work with a huge smile and humming a catchy tune. With a smirk he went over to one of her co-workers and asked them a special favor.

An hour later Connie was off from her shift and was now spending the evening with Steven. Finding an old empty playground near her home, they swung on the swings, slid down the slides and hung on the old climbing bar structure. Careful of the rainy dew making the metal surface slippery. The fireflies were glowing with the crescent moon and stars. Illuminating the area just enough for them to see. Steven soon whistled after awhile, as they sat on a nearby bench, Lion came up with a picnic basket in hand, getting from the Dondai of course. Lifting it up to her with a smile so wide he shut is eyes.

"Steven you didn't"

"Oh but I did. Anything for my strawberry." He winked, watching as she blushed and lifted the lid up with a gasp. Chocolate covered strawberries, a couple of cheeseburgers with fries(wrapped tightly in foil so it was still warm), a couple of drinks and two slices of the diners famous pie.

"What's all this for? Because we haven't seen each other in two months?"

"Yes, but also we are pre-celebrating your future acceptance into Jay Hawk." Taking her hand in his, he gazed into her eyes. "Connie I saw you working so hard back there. I've seen you put your all into studying for a test. You deserve so much more. If I could give you the world, I would do so in a heartbeat." He lifted up with his other hand a small chocolate treat. "For now, this is the best I can do." Opening her mouth he fed it to him with a smile and loving gaze.

"Steven, you already gave me something even more special."

"I did?"

"Of course silly!" Reaching up she touched his cheek, pressing her hand against his soft skin. "I have the best boyfriend. You gave that to me. You kept your heart open even through all the hard times. Loving me like I love you. I once told you I want to be a part of your universe. Not only did you give me the world, you gave me just that. The universe... your universe."

"Oh Connie... that was kind cheesy." Rolling her eyes she moved closer.

"Just kiss me already." With a chuckle he did so, the stars shining down on them like a stage spotlight. They relished in the moment before beginning to eat within the moon's bright light. Conversing the rest of the evening as they spent every moment living in it with each other.

[yourdreamscenarios]

When they help you study

Characters: BTS / OC Genre: Fluff Word count: 7,078

Jin

“I just can’t do it.” You mumbled, throwing down your pen on top of your papers. You were sick and tired of this and if you’d have to stare down on these numbers for much longer you would actually freak out. The sound of someone lowering the stove and putting down spoons reached your ears before Seokjin emerged out of the kitchen, his apron still tied in front of him. You had once tried to convince him into buying the one with the muscular beach body at the front but he had refused, to your disappointment. Slipping down in your chair you watched him as he made his way over to you, wiping his hands off on the piece of clothing. “But you’ve tried so hard, you can’t quit now.” He tried to convince you, sitting down on the chair across of you. Heaving a deep sigh you knew that he was right, but your mind refused to hold onto that. 

The only thing you still wanted was to sleep, so at least you could forget about your misery for a little while. You had never been good at math and you knew that the two of you would never become great friends. But why couldn’t it be a little bit easier? Why did it all have to be so complicated? “You want me to explain it to you another time?” He asked as he grabbed a hold of your textbook and shot you an encouraging smile. He was such a sweet guy and to be honest you felt kind of bad for him. He had been here all day and while he had expected to spend a nice evening at home with you, relaxing since he didn’t have to work, he was stuck with tutoring you. You knew that Seokjin was good at these kinds of things, he was great at math. But he had tried to help you with this for over three times now and somehow you couldn’t seem to understand it. 

You admired him because he remained so calm and he didn’t get annoyed. Each time he offered you his help, he started from zero to try to make you understand the exercises. He complimented you when you were doing well and corrected you when you made a mistake. But whatever happened, he remained supportive and always told you not to give up. “I’m sorry I’m making you do this.” You muttered when he prepared himself for another try to help you. Looking up at you with big eyes he shook his head before smiling. “You’re not making me do anything. I’m doing this because I want to help you and because I hate seeing you sad. So put your head up and let’s read through this chapter again. I’m sure you’ll get it sooner or later.” He cheered and you couldn’t help but smile at him as he walked you through the explanation once more. 

You forced yourself into concentrating on what he was saying, but you couldn’t help but notice how easy all of this seemed for him. How was it that one person was so good at something, while another one simply couldn’t seem to get the hang of it? When he was done he looked up to check your expression and seeing the desperation on it, he knew that you still didn’t get it. Instead of feeling frustrated he felt sad, knowing that you were trying so hard but that you weren’t able to move forward. He really wished he could do something more to help you, that he could fill in that exam for you. But he knew you’d have to do this yourself. “Here, you try making one. I’ll help you when you get stuck.” He heartened, leaning over the table to follow as you went through all the steps he had just explained to you. 

You were both surprised when you got the answer right, and he had barely had to interfere. It was the first time since you had started this morning that you were able to complete an exercise without his help. His heart swelled with pride when he noticed your hopeful expression. He knew you’d be able to do it as long as you didn’t give up. “Great! You see, you can do it!” He said as he bent over the table to press a kiss against your forehead. You watched him as he shoved back his chair and went back towards the kitchen, leaving you back to yourself. It made you feel quite nervous, because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to complete another one without him by your side to guide you. Still, you’d have to try, because tomorrow he also wouldn’t be sitting beside you to complete your exam. 

Eventually you’d have to be able to do this on your own. Though, before you knew it he was back, a bowl inside of his hand with steamy food inside of it. Immediately your stomach growled, and you realized you were more hungry than you thought you were. “Some energy food for my lovely, hard working student.” He snickered, placing it down in front of you. Actually you shouldn’t be wasting your time by taking breaks, you had already lost enough by getting stuck with every single exercise. Yet, he didn’t even give you the chance to argument as he dipped his chopstick into the meat and held it before you, waiting until you would take a bite. “Your brains can’t function without food. Don’t argue with me.” He warned you as he fed you. To him it didn’t matter if you sucked at math, he was just happy he was able to take care of you and make you feel better. 

RM

Walking over to your place he cursed when his foot got stuck behind one of the tiles of the pavement, almost causing him to trip and drop the content he was holding inside of his hands. Muttering a soft curse underneath his breath he steadied himself, finding the last street he had to cross before he finally reached your apartment. Rolling to a stop in front of the door he pushed it open before taking the stairs towards the second floor, easily finding his way towards your front door. Knocking it with his free hand he checked his phone once more, reading over the texts he had sent you over the weekend, of which you had replied none. Normally he would get a little worried if such thing happened, but now he knew better than to urge you into answering him. When he had called you last week you had already seemed stressed out about your finals which were coming along, so he knew that by now your mood wouldn’t be any better. 

You were smart and he admired you because you were able to attend university and give one hundred percent of yourself, always studying your butt off. He was so proud that he had a girlfriend who gave that much of herself. He waited patiently on his side of the door until he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and locks being shoved open. Glueing a bright smile onto his face he wanted that to be the first thing you saw when you opened the door. “Babe!” He cheered when he watched you appear in front of him, wearing some baggy sweats and a wide shirt. The bun on your head wiggled slightly as you looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t let you know that he was coming over, he had wanted it to be a surprise. His schedule had been so hectic these past few weeks, but knowing that you’d been having a rough time too he had wanted to see you. 

“I’m not prepared for visitors, the place is a mess.” You informed him in a panicked voice when he marched through the doorway, stopping only a split second to press his lips down on your forehead before he made his way inside. What you called a mess was still quite clean to him. He lived together with six guys, and out of experience he knew that a place could look much worse than this. Papers were spread across the dining table, a box of take out food resting beside it together with an empty cup which had probably been filled with coffee and a few cans of coke. Putting his bag down beside it he was careful not to get any of your stuff mixed up. “I brought chocolates, ice cream and bubblegum. Also, I went to the library.” He said, getting out a few books he had borrowed. 

He knew that you were having your math exam coming up, the one you were dreading the most and he wanted you to be motivated. It could be hard having to do something you didn’t want to, he knew everything about it. Turning his head to look at you, he could see you standing in the middle of the room, a touched smile on your face as you stared at the goods he had brought you. He noticed you looked exhausted but decided not to mention it, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate it. “Thanks Namjoonie.” You mumbled, slowly coming over to him, picking up one of the books to study it. As soon as he could reach you he placed his hands on your shoulders, pressing his thumbs into the tensed muscles. A stiffened groan left your lips as he went on, your eyes squeezing together at the soreness you felt. For such a long time you’d done nothing more than staring down on your papers, your neck and shoulders were stuck. 

“You deserved it. How’s it going anyway?” He asked, watching all the sticky notes that were glued around the house in different bright colors. Your cat was resting on the couch, without a single care in the world. After all this time he still didn’t dare getting too close to him, knowing that the animal didn’t like him. A deep sigh sounded from you and he guided his eyes back to you, curled his neck to watch your frustrated expression. “It sucks, I can’t get this right. I guess I’ll just fail math.” You confessed, brushing your hand through your hair and messing up your bun. Honestly you were so tired of investing all your time and energy in it, you just wanted it to be over. Finals had been going on for a week now and you had started studying two weeks on forehand. By now you really felt like giving up. As if Namjoon could tell what you were thinking he kissed the top of your head before he walked towards one of the chairs, pulling back the one beside him and patting it. 

“Let’s take a look at it. I’m sure that together we’ll be able to figure this out.” He suggested, sending you an endearing smile. Even though you really didn’t feel like it, you sat beside him anyway, adoring the way his eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his face as he read the formula’s on the sheet in front of him. After a while his eyes became wide and you shot him a questioning look. “Babe, you divided these numbers instead of multiplying them.” He pointed out and you practically ripped the paper out of his hands to take a look. “That’s impossible! I reread it like six times…” You started, but stuttered as soon as you noticed that he was right. You’d made a stupid mistake, which was a perfect explanation as to why you never seemed to get the answer right. You smiled sheepishly at your boyfriend who grinned at you. “Alright, it seems like you’re right. Thanks, you’re the best.” You admitted, leaning over to peck his cheek. 

Suga

He was trying to get some sleep on top of the bed, peaceful because he knew you were in the same room as him. He didn’t have to be awake and present to enjoy your company. Somehow he could even sense your nearness while he was asleep. Rolling over onto his other side he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to fall deeper into his slumber. Yet, when he heard a sniff fill the room his eyes sprung open. He had no idea why, it could have simply been a simple brush of the nose, but somehow his gut told him that it wasn’t. Turning his head to find you, he spotted you sitting behind the desk, just like you had done before he’d gone to sleep. Everything seemed to be exactly the same, except of the fact that you were crying. In his mind he was already trying to think of someone he could blame for it. 

When you’d been in the living room earlier he had seen Jimin saying something to you, perhaps it was something that had made you upset. He could handle that, he would scold the younger one for doing so. Pushing himself up on his elbow he stared at you, since it was obvious that you hadn’t noticed him yet. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice suddenly filling up the silent room. You flinched, clearly surprised because of the sound. Twisting in your chair to look at him you quickly wiped away the tears from your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater, trying to hide them from him. Curling your lips up into a smile you tried to seem careless, but the grin felt fake and you could tell he knew. “I didn’t know you were awake.” You muttered softly, trying to show off relaxed as you leaned back inside of the chair. 

Yoongi didn’t say anything, but simply continued to drill his eyes into yours, wordlessly demanding an answer from you. “I’m fine.” You said eventually, which caused him to scoff. If you were fine than you wouldn’t be crying. Pushing himself forward across the duvet he sat down on the edge of the bed, your knees only a few inches away from each other as you sat in your chair. “Cut the crap _______________. Who made you cry? Tell me.” He insisted, taking a hold of one of your hands which were laying on top of your lap and squeezing it. With your eyes gazing down on it he could tell that he was slowly starting to loose his patience. But instead of lashing out on you he took a deep breath through his nose, telling himself that if he wanted you to tell him, he had to wait. “I can’t do it.” You said eventually, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. 

Confusion tickled inside of him as he tried to figure out what you were trying to tell him. Slowly it started to get to him that there wasn’t someone who had made you sad, that there wasn’t a person involved in this but a something. It made everything a lot more complicated. “Can’t do what?” He asked, reaching over to brush away another tear that slipped down your cheek. He could tell you were annoyed because you were crying, you didn’t like showing your weakness like that. “I’m having a statistic exam in two days and I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. All these formula’s they all look the same, I don’t even get why I’m still studying it, I can’t remember them anyway.” You sniffed, disappointed in yourself. You’d gone to every single lecture, had made exercises through the years, you had tried so hard. It seemed like your best still wasn’t good enough. 

Blinking his eyes at you in surprise Yoongi looked over your shoulder to see the books and sheets of papers spread across of his desk. You must have taken them out as soon as he had gone to sleep. Of course he had heard you tell him that you had finals coming up, but he hadn’t given it much attention. The two of you had been together for so long and you had been a college student for as long as he had been dating you. It was normal for him that you studied from time to time, so he didn’t attempt to worry about it. You had never mentioned to him before that you had a rough time with a course before. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, knowing that he wouldn’t be willing to hear your answer. As if you knew that too you shrugged your shoulders, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. The two of you both knew that you had a habit of keeping your problems from him sometimes, trying not to make his life harder. 

No matter how many times he told you that he wanted to know what was going on inside of your head,  that he wanted to know if you were struggling with something, he simply couldn’t get through to you. Sighing deeply he stuck out his free hand, holding it in the air in front of you. “Let me see.” He said, and you handed him one of the books letting him see what it was about. It didn’t take him very long to realize that he knew just as little about this as you did, if not less. He’d never been interested in studying, so his own knowledge about something like this was small. “We’ll ask Jin hyung for help, he’s good at this kind of stuff.” He suggested, watching the way hope flared inside of your eyes as you nodded. Putting the textbook down beside him on the bed he tugged you over, placing you on top of his lap. “You should tell me when something’s wrong, don’t just sit there crying by yourself. I can help, mmhm?” He told you with a stern look and you smiled at him, as he pecked your temple supportively.

J Hope

Typing the numbers on your calculator you muttered against yourself, saying the numbers as you tried to get all the formula’s inside of your head. Yet, it was impossible. It was eleven PM, dark outside and every single one of your friends had already given up and gone to bed. You were the only one who was still crazy enough to keep studying like this. Not that it would help much, because you were sure you were doomed to fail. You had been staring down on your textbooks for such a long time already, you were sure there wasn’t a single way you hadn’t tried to remember all of this, but you just couldn’t do it. Math wasn’t your thing and it never would be. Each year you had passed with just the right amount of points, but you weren’t sure if you would still succeed in doing so now. 

The content of the classes were getting harder and harder each time and knowing that you’d already had a rough time catching up back then, you knew it wouldn’t get any easier. Yet, you should have known that math wouldn’t get much easier once you got into college. The more years passed, the harder it got for you to keep up. With a heavy head, full of knowledge but things you didn’t quite understand your found your eyes falling close, your head dipping towards your chest. It would all be so much easier if you’d just be able to close your eyes for a little while, five minutes, that was all. In those five minutes your brain would get the time it needed to recharge itself so you could study some more and after that maybe you would even understand all of this. Folding your arms across of your textbook your allowed your face to nuzzle into them. Five minutes, that was all. 

After throwing his bag down in the corner of the hallway he stretched his painful joints, his muscles aching because of the merciless practice he had just gone through. Jungkook hadn’t known when to stop today and had pushed the both of them towards the limit while practicing their newest dance routine. It had been a rough day and he was so happy to be home. Blinking his eyes open, not willing to let them fall close just yet, he walked over towards the living room, thinking he would find you there. To be honest he had wanted to get home early today to spend some time with you. He knew that you finals were coming up and that you were going through a rough time. He had wanted to spoil you tonight, telling you how proud he was of you because you were still trying so hard. 

He still remembered the time when he’d been a student himself and he couldn’t say that he had a very good time thinking back about the moments he had spent behind his text books. Yet, when he walked into the room, you were no where no be found. Frowning at the emptiness of the couch he turned around, walking through the rooms in order. Starting with the kitchen he found it empty, the dishwasher was cleared which meant that you must have been here not so long ago. It had been piled up with plates when he had left this morning. Next he checked the bathroom, but you weren’t there either. Getting slightly worried he couldn’t think of a better thing to do than check out the shared bedroom. Opening the door slowly he peeked inside, pushing his head around the corner. What he saw shocked him and caused a small smile to creep into his face. 

He’d known that you were spending a lot of time studying these days. You’d told him about having to deal with math, and that you weren’t good at it. He just hadn’t thought that it was this bad. Tiptoeing over towards the desk he looked down onto your sleeping face, pencil still inside of your hand. Carefully, trying not to wake you up, he took it out and laid it beside you, before he turned the chair so he could reach you. Hoisting you up inside of his arms he carried you over towards the bed, but no matter how hard he tried, you woke up anyway. Shooting awake you gazed around yourself, stunned because you could no longer feel a chair underneath your butt. You were just in time to see Hoseok’s smile before he lowered you on top of the sheets, ready to tug you in. “No, I’m not done yet.” You slurred, your voice filled with exhaustion, causing him to frown. 

He knew what it was like to overwork himself and to try too hard. He didn’t want you to have to go through the same thing. So when you tried to push yourself upright to get back towards your papers he stopped you. Crawling onto the bed beside you he held you down, circling his arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Even though you tried to fight him, you didn’t seem to have enough energy left to try very hard. “I promise I’ll help you study tomorrow. But now you have to sleep.” He muttered, brushing your hair out of your face as he watched you. The rebellion look disappeared out of your eyes as you cuddled yourself against him, and he easily let you. He listened to the sound of your breathing until it became steady, your eyes tightly closed. “Good night baby.” He whispered, pecking your forehead. 

Jimin

Heaving a deep sigh he shook the rain drops out of his hair, feeling one of them slip behind the collar of his shirt and rolling down his back, causing a shiver to run down his spine. It had been a crappy day and he was happy it was finally over. He blinked as the lanterns went on, lighting up the already dark streets. Looking down on his watch he noticed it was only eight a’clock. The thought of winter coming soon was dreadful, he really wasn’t looking forward to the cold. Not that the rain from today was making him feel any better. Getting his hands out of the pockets of his jacket he rang your doorbell, knowing that your parents would be home and they would let him in. He stepped by every once in a while when his schedule allowed him to spend time with you. To his surprise your parents had always been very supportive of you dating him, while he knew most parents would make a problem of their college daughter dating an idol. 

He could only appreciate it that they weren’t making this too hard for him. He straightened up as soon as the door opened, the light that came from inside shining down on him as your mother showed up in the doorway. “Oohh Jimin, come in sweetheart! You’ll get soaked.” She squealed, practically pulling him into the house before he had the chance of greeting her. Chuckling softly he took off his shoes, secretly staring into the living room to check if he was able to see you on the couch. “Thank you misses ______________. How are you doing?” He asked politely as he hung his jacket on the coat rack, hoping that he was still looking presentable enough for you. He hadn’t expected the weather to be this bad when he walked over, otherwise he would have brought an umbrella. 

“Oh, I’m alright. ______________ though, she’s been having a bad day. Her math exam is coming up and I don’t think she’s…” She got interrupted by the sound of your grumbling reaching them from upstairs and she pulled a face when she heard you curse. Sighing deeply she shrugged her shoulders. “She’s been like this all day. You can go see her if you want, but be careful. She might actually throw something at your head when you go in.” She giggled, but waved him off anyway before going back towards the living room to continue watching the rest of the show she’d been watching on TV. Taking her warnings very serious he carefully made his way up the stairs, before stopping in front of your room. Laying his ear against the door he could still hear you huff on the other side. Forming his hand into a fist he knocked the wood, waiting for a reply before going in. 

“Mom…Please. I’m busy.” He heard you say and he chuckled before pushing down the handle and sticking his head inside of your room. Luckily for him you didn’t actually throw something at him. Turning your head towards him he could see the surprise written all over your face when you realized it wasn’t your mom in the doorway. “Can I come in?” He asked, smiling brightly at you as you nodded. Quietly he closed the door behind himself before he walked over towards the bed, where you were sitting and lowered himself onto the edge. “So, your mom told me this hasn’t been going too well for you.” He said when he looked down on the papers which were spread out across the duvet, a calculator inside of your hold. Sniffing slightly you brought up your hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I guess that’s a way to call it.” You mumbled, and his face fell by the sight of your disappointed expression. 

He didn’t like seeing you like this, especially not since he knew that the person you were being mad at was yourself. He didn’t want you to blame yourself for this, not after you’d already worked so hard. Reaching out for your hand he tangled his fingers with yours, giving them a gentle squeeze. If only it was enough to make you feel better, but even though you shot him a small smile, he knew better than to believe it. “I can question you about the formulas if you want me to. Maybe it could help.” He suggested, not knowing what else to do. It was impossible for him to try and catch up with the lecture you were supposed to be studying, he didn’t know much about it. Yet, this brought him to another idea. “Or you could teach me. Teach me how to do it. If you can make me understand you’ll surely be able to fill in your exam.” 

He tried, watching the way your eyes lit up because of that thought. Smiling happily because he had made you feel better he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, waiting as you installed yourself. Handing him a paper and a pen you sat down in front of him, your legs crossed. He was already sure that he wouldn’t be able to catch up, but he didn’t mind. As long as it made you feel better and as you’d start believing in yourself again it didn’t matter. It had been an exhausting day for him and actually he’d planned on taking a relaxing nap with you, but plans could change. Instead he tried to listen carefully as you explained a very difficult looking exercise to him, but he ended up staring at your face more than he payed attention to what you were saying. 

V

“Thanks hyung.” He muttered towards Seokjin as soon as his older friend stopped the car on the driveway, but instead of getting out he remained seated. Looking up at the large apartment complex that was towering in front of him he sighed. Noticing his lack the lack of excitement he usually showed when he went to see you his older friend leaned closer, studying his features. “What’s wrong?” He asked carefully, actually not wanting to get involved into any relationship drama. It was Namjoon who usually solved those kinds of things, not him. Shrugging his shoulders Taehyung fiddled with his fingers on his lap. He knew he was being a fool and that he didn’t have anything to worry about, but he simply couldn’t help himself. “______________ and I fought last night.” He admitted sheepishly and Seokjin sighed, crunching his nose as he realized it was too late to turn back now. There was no way he could just kick the younger boy out of his car without listening to him, no matter how badly he wished to go back to the dorm after his intense work out at practice. 

He didn’t even have to ask anything before Taehyung continued, throwing everything off his chest. “She’s going through finals and I blamed her for not having any time for me. I’m such an ass, I’m the one who never has time for her and now I’m the one who’s complaining. She’s already stressed and I’m just making it worse. Maybe I should just leave her alone.” He muttered, sinking back inside of the car seat. Seokjin blinked in surprise before he loosened his seatbelt and reached over to Taehyung’s side of the car. Opening the door in one quick throw he gave him a stern look. “Get out.” He said, seeing how his younger friend stared at him with a shocked expression. “Get out of my car and go tell your girlfriend you’re sorry, you idiot. I’m sure she’ll forgive you.” Sending him a supportive smile he waited until Taehyung had done as he asked and climbed out of the vehicle. As soon as he did he raced off, afraid that he would change his mind. 

He gazed up at the building for a little longer before deciding that his hyung was right and he just had to man up. He shouldn’t have said what he said last night and he really regretted it. You’d both been tired and stressed out and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to take it out on you. An apology was the least he could give you for making this time even harder for you. Entering the main building he quickly pressed the button of the elevator, only to find out that it was broken. It seemed like karma was trying to get back to him. Yet, he simply turned around and aimed for the stairs, taking two of them at a time which caused him to be exhausted when he finally arrived on the fifth floor. Not giving himself the time to hesitate or turn back he rang the doorbell and impatiently jumped from one foot onto the other as he waited for you to open up. After a few minutes he finally heard the sound of movement on the other side and he held his breath as the door swung open, revealing you. 

He blinked his eyes in amazement when he noticed your tear strained cheeks and messy hair. But before he had the time to even react to it, you threw yourself at him, not giving him any choice but to catch you. Automatically his arms curled around your form as he heard the sound of a sob escaping from your lips. “_______________…” He muttered, not knowing what to say and his apology getting stuck inside of his throat. Guilt washed over him as he thought it was your fight that had made you this upset. “I can’t do it! It’s not working.” You wailed into the crook of his neck, causing him to frown. Confusion settled inside of him as he realized he had no idea what you were talking about. “What do you mean?” He asked, smoothening his hand down your hair in the hope to calm you down. He hated seeing you cry and if he could do something in order to prevent it he would. As you pulled back from him he was finally able to look at you and his heart dropped in his stomach as he noticed how defeated you looked. 

“My math exam, I’m not going to pass it. I might as well just stay home tomorrow.” You sniffed, and Taehyung beat you so it as you wanted to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. Pressing his hand against each side of your face he brushed his thumbs against your skin. He’d had no idea that you were struggling this much with studying. A strong need to help you came over him as he combed your hair behind your ears. “How about we’ll look it over together and each time you get the answer right, you’ll get a kiss.” He suggested and even though he knew it wasn’t much, it was the only thing he could think of. He didn’t want you to stop believing in yourself and as long as he could keep you motivated and positive he was sure you’d be able to succeed. He knew that you were smart and he just wanted you to realize that as well. Besides, no matter how hard thing got, you would always have him, and he would always cheer for you.

Walking you back into the house he settled the two of you down on the chairs around the table. As you heaved a deep sigh he could tell you weren’t excited to get back into studying, but at least you weren’t backing out either. “Listen, about last night…I’m sorry.” He mumbled, turning his head to look at you. It seemed better for him to tell you now, instead of getting you out of your concentration later. Though, you shot him a confused look and squeezed your eyes while going through your memories. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You said before grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper. Grinning from ear to ear Taehyung thought you were adorable. Seemed like he had been worrying over nothing this entire time. He was so lucky to have someone like you. Leaning over he pressed his lips against your cheek and your eyes widened at it. “I didn’t even start yet.” You reminded him but he just chuckled as he leaned his chin inside of his hand, watching you. “You deserved it anyway.” 

Jungkook

Groaning loudly you threw your pencil down on the table. You were done, and you really couldn’t take this anymore. Fisting your hands inside of your hair you hung your head low. You just had to face it, you were a loser and you were going to fail. A lonely tear was tickling down your cheek, only causing you to get even more angry with yourself. How could you be so pathetic? You’d been studying for many hours a day, none stop, but you never got it right. At this moment you were seriously wondering why you had ever decided to go off to college anyway if you couldn’t even make it through your finals. You thought it had seemed like a nice challenge, well, this wasn’t nice anymore. Jungkook happily walked into the dorm, rushing past the other members to get inside. He had left you here this morning before heading to practice and since he’d known you’d had the day off he had asked you to stick around and wait for him to come back. 

The dorm would be silent and there wouldn’t be anyone around, which seemed like the perfect opportunity for you to study. It had seemed like a win win situation for the both of you, as you were not being bothered for a few hours and he would be able to see you when he got home from work. To be honest he thought it was one of the best ideas he had had for a while. Speed walking towards his room, leaving his stuff behind in the hallway, he knocked the door three times. But still didn’t really give you the time to prepare yourself for his arrival as he dived inside, opening the door so fast it caused a breeze to pull through the room. “Babe, I’m back!” He roared, but the bright smile on his face faltered when he noticed your distressed state. His heart skipped a beat as worry overtook him and he rushed to your side. No matter how many times he had seen you crying before, he never got used to it. 

“______________, what’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing a hand down your hair when he crouched down next to your chair. When he had left you this morning you had been fine. In his mind he went over all of the things that could have happened to you while he was out. “I can’t finish these stupid exercises! I’ve tried everything but I just don’t get it. My exam is due for tomorrow, I’ll never be able to do it. I’m going to fail.” You sniffed, rubbing away the tears from your face as he sent you a sympathetic look. He had never been very good at math himself when he’d still been in high school and if he had to be honest he had never a very good student in general. Yet, that didn’t mean he didn’t hate to see you this upset. He was proud of you that you’d found the motivation to actually go to college. Quickly he grabbed an extra chair, placing it down next to yours so he could have a look on the papers and text books which were spread across of his desk. 

But there wasn’t a single thing that came into mind when he stared down on the formulas and the numbers written on there. He had no idea how to solve these exercises himself. “We’ll just look it up on the internet.” Jungkook mumbled, trying to sound positive as he took out his phone to search for some information that might be able to help you. You blinked your eyes at him in surprised, watching the way he stuck out his tongue in concentration as he typed in the numbers. You’d never seen anyone trying to find the answer to a math exercise online before, but you knew there wasn’t a single thing your boyfriend couldn’t find online. Shifting a little bit so you could look on the screen in his hands he allowed you to read with him, his breath hitting the side of your face. He had no idea why this suddenly felt like such a big deal, but somehow he knew he had to find this answer and he knew he wouldn’t rest before he had done so. 

“I got it!” He beamed after five more minutes, smiling proudly at you as he turned the phone over and handed it to you so you could look at it. When he saw the astonished expression on your face as you read through the page, a grin took over on his face. The next time his friends would tell him that the internet couldn’t solve everything he would prove them wrong. Checking the explanation for a while, it suddenly didn’t seem so hard at all. Your teacher had made it seem much harder than it actually was. “God Jungkookie, you’re amazing!” You squealed, the self pity you had felt before long forgotten as new found energy rushed through your body. Jungkook leaned back in his chair beside you, watching you as you went on to the next exercise. He was happy he had been able to help you out somehow. Grabbing one of your textbooks and shoving it closer to him he tried his hardest to be silent as he let you do your thing. 

Yet, he was dying to tell you about everything that had happened during practice today. Not just that, he got distracted easily, the formulas in the textbook boring him. “Do you want ice cream?” He asked suddenly and when you turned your head to look up at him in awe, his doe eyes were staring back at you. Biting your lip you knew that you shouldn’t be giving in, you had to focus. You had already lost a lot of time while thinking over this one exercise. “Maybe…” You muttered, unwillingly giving into him. It had been a while since you’d taken a break and you were hungry. Perhaps after you’d had some food you’d be able to keep going for much longer. “Let’s go, we can’t focus on an empty stomach. Since you’ve working so hard, I’ll treat.” Jungkook rattled, already jumping off of his chair and walking out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him and you had the feeling that it wasn’t going to be your empty stomach which would be the cause of your lack of concentration. 

BTS Masterlist

[eksavestheworld]

Being A Teen Parent With Peter Parker Pt. 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1

Part 3

Warnings:none

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

Ok so you guys end up staying at the hospital for a couple of days after the babies are born

And the whole time you’re there, Peter was holding one of the babies

Even while he was eating and sleeping he was holding at least one baby

Really, the only time he wasn’t was when he took a shower

Aunt Mae came by and almost cried when she held the babies

“Oh they look just like you guys!”

Violet looked more like you, while Skylar more closely resembled Peter

Tony shows up when they’re a day old with balloons and a teddy bear for each one

The bears were just as big as Violet and Skylar

Of course, Bucky comes to visit on the second day to take you guys home

He immediately shortened their names to a Vi and Sky and it kinda just stuck

Even through you insisted you could walk, Peter made you let him wheel you to the SUV anyway

Apparently Tony decided to come alone to bring you guys home

so Tony ends up driving and Bucky sits in the front with him

you end up in the sit behind them with Sky and Peter sits behind you guys with Violet

you guys end up to your floor and you breastfeed the babies before taking a nap after Peter takes them to hang out with everyone

no one comes to bother you because you just FRICKIN PUSHED TWO BABIES OUT OF YOU and deserve a long nap

after a while you wake up and miss everyone so you deside to go down to the common living floor where everyone usually hangs out

as soon as you guys get there you see there’s a whole party set up with a home made “welcome home, Parkers” sign

Peter sees it and is like “don’t worry, you’ll be a Parker too soon”

apparently you were sleeping longer than you thought because both of your girls were knocked out in their little baby swing thingy

it turns out if was around 9pm, you guys go home from the hospitable this morning around 7am

so you could say that you slept well

after hugging everyone you decide to just curl up on a couch with Peter

but after a few minute the whole team gets called away on some mission

Peter doesn’t want to go, but he knows he has to 

he kisses each of you and you say, “come back to us.”

and he’s like, “I always will.”

as if on queue, the second everyone leaves, both Skylar and Violet just start bawling

you decide to have J.A.R.V.I.S. turn on some Panic! At The Disco bc they heard a lot of it in the womb, so maybe they’ll still like it

somehow, after like 3 songs, She Had The World started and they were immediately quiet and happy again

you decide to set them on the couch and take pictures because they’re soooo CuTe and are already wearing matching onesies with donuts on the stomach

VIolet fell asleep after that, so you put her back into the swinging bassinet 

Skylar was starting to get fussy and was clearly hungry, so you went into the joining kitchen to feed her while you found dinner

your heart warmed when you open the fridge and saw what everyone had done

they’d made your favorite meals and put them into tupperware containers so you just had to microwave them

you pull one out and heat it up before sitting on a bar stool by the counter to eat

by the time you both are done eating you’re getting tired so you take Skylar and Violet to your room, change their diapers, and put them to in your bed so they’d be closer to you

you ended up sitting on the bed watching Netflix while you fed Violet as she fell asleep

you guys ended all sleeping in your bed, so you made sure no pillows or blankets or anything could fall onto them and hurt them or anything

they next morning you woke up because you saw a flash and heart a click

it was Peter taking a picture of you and the babies in bed because “you looked so cute together sleeping”

then he tells you not to come to the kitchen for a while so you decide to feed the babies and get them ready for the day while you wait

Bucky ends up coming to get you from your room and has a blast carrying Violet on the way to the kitchen

you get to the common living floor and smell the breakfast Peter made you

you step into the kitchen with Skylar in your arms and almost die of laughter at the sight of Peter, Tony, and Vision in the kitchen with aprons and chefs hats on even though they just made waffles, eggs, turkey bacon, and turkey sausage

Peter immediately rushes over and takes Skylar from your hands becuase he’s been away from his babies for nearly 8 hours and they were only a few day old

you begin to eat breakfast with everyone

minus Peter and Bucky because they’re consumed by babies

Sky smiles at Peter so he laughs and starts whisper-singing the Spider-Man theme so….except he barely know the lyrics

“Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does what ever a spider can…and he swings from a wet, uhh Spider-Man”

Skylar’s happy anyway

then he goes and switches with Bucky and holds Violet

“hello there, how’s mommy’s twin doing, huh?

like her sister, she smiles at him and he smiles right back

it doesn’t even surprise you with how well he’s handling fatherhood and the babies

he just seems like a dude who’d be good with babies and kids

after breakfast and everyone gets their time to hold each baby, Peter suggests going on a mini tour of the tower so the babues know where they are

“Pete, babe, they’re infants, they don’t really know where they are, heh they can’t even walk yet.”

“well lets show them now, so they know where to go when the can walk.”

you each carried a baby while Peter narrated everywhere they went

“and this is the gym, don’t worry, we’ll teach you guys how to fight soon. we still have to teach you mommy first, though,”

“this is Tony’s workshop, we’re not allowed to play in here anymore. well, I never were in the first place, but I did anyways.”

“and this is our floor. we have our bedrooms and stuff here. when you’re older, you guys can have separate rooms, if you want.”

“finally, this is your nursery, and that’s you closet, and there’s the changing station, and the trashcan is right there and th-” “ I think they get the gist of it, babe.”

he he was too busy being a tour guide and hadn’t even noticed that both of the babies were sleeping already, but at least you were already in the nursery, so you just put them in they’re cribs

by this time, you were both pretty tired. you had been up with the babies last night, and Peter never even went to sleep when he got home so you guys went back to your room

you were still in you pajamas and Peter had put some on when he got home, so you both crawled into bed for a much needed nap and cuddled

and for the first time since the twins were born, you and Peter got some alone time

and Peter got all cute and red and sentimental

“I know that none of this was planned or anything, but I so happy it happened the way it did. Thank you for giving me our daughters and being so great to me. I know we’re young, but we’ve already done everything ahead of schedule and I just know we’re gong to be together forever. so what I’m trying to say is, (y/f/n) will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

by the end of his little speech, tears were softly running down your face

“yes, you goofball!” was all you said before kissing him and you both fell asleep for a few hours before Violet and Skylar woke up

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

here’s part 2! Part 3 has been posted. should I make a part 4?

want to be tagged? just ask me!

tags: (I tagged everyone who requested a part 2 for this. Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged, just tell me and I’ll take you off.)

@bitterqueenofhearts @nerdypisces160 @scorpiostunner1027 @leya26khalifa @superheroabc

[askmicrowaveayem]

Boink! The Gaster Brothers Pt. 4

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

Dressed in his new clothes, Rage hovered in the doorway, unsure if he should come closer or not.

The look on her face told him he should turn around and go.

He stayed still, watching, instead. Waiting to see if she would notice him.

--

As rigid as her face was, it didn’t stop her son from smiling at him from the bed and waving at him happily, if not tiredly.

Vrinda turned and looked at him, smiling a little. “You can share a bed with Wingdings until we can get something else situated. How are you feeling?”

--

He nodded quickly, far more used to sleeping on the ground and finding any sort of bed a kind of luxury all on its own. “A lot better now, thank you very much.”

He wanted to ask how Dings was doing. How his eye was. If the crack would heal.

He’d done his best. He wanted to tell her. He’d done his best.

In front of Dings, he said nothing.

--

After a moment she stopped healing and redid the bandage, handing another cup of tea to her son. He drank it slowly.

“Do you have any wounds that need healing?”

--

He shook his head. “Just leftover bruises, ma’am. They’ll go away soon.”

--

Dings signed to his mother, who chuckled. “Dings says to tell you he’s very excited that he gets to have a sleepover with his friend every night now.”

She finished the dressing and stood, smoothing out her apron. “I’m not going to be your translator you know, little one. You’re going to have to work extra-hard on your talking now that you have a brother.”

Dings pouted and signed something.

“Now I’ll have none of that. Finish your tea and sleep.” She tucked him under the blankets.

--

He watched, unsure of how to respond to any of it, but eventually managing, “maybe I could learn the hand thing you use, too?”

--

Dings nearly sat up in excitement, but was gently pushed back down again by his mother. “Sleep.”

He pouted again, but wiggled under the covers and let his eye go heavy.

Vrinda tapped a kiss on the better side of her son’s skull before she turned and lead the young skeleton out of the room. “That would probably be good, yes. Treb can’t talk, so it would help you understand him too.”

She walked to the kitchen and finished up the tea, setting the last cup on the table and gesturing for Rage to drink if he wanted.

--

His face lit up at the tea.

It was still nothing like he’d ever tasted, even if once it was finished, he could only hold the cup in his hands and fidget around it, glancing up at Vrinda.

“...is his eye going to be okay?”

--

Vrinda sighed, “... It will scar. He’s lost some of his vision.”

She paused, mouth going taunt. “... But it would have been worse. You took him to a healer?” The dots of her eyes looked back at him, somehow able to tell the wound had been healed before she got to it.

--

He nodded. “The first town we came to on our way back, I brought him to one. I… didn’t know how to bandage something that bad normally.”

He’d thought it was worth the risk.

--

She nodded, “Thank you. Truly. For bringing my boy back home.”

Vrinda sat beside him again, eyes sad but grateful. “We were beginning to think…” Her words stopped, not daring to finish them. She shook them out of her head and inhaled deeply, breath shaking. “But he’s here now. Thanks to you.”

She smiled, “He seems to like you very much. You must have taken good care of him, despite your situation.”

--

Despite the gravity of her words and the situation, Rage found himself feeling lighter. A little warmer inside. His ribs a little looser.

He had a name. He hadn’t been beaten in two weeks. He was being told he must’ve done something right. That Vrinda believed he’d done something right with something as important as her son.

Somehow, he’d earned praise.

“I tried,” he said after a moment of stunned silence, trying to match up what Vrinda thought of him versus what he knew of himself. “I’m glad it apparently worked.”

--

Vrinda nodded and offered him another smile. She didn’t ask more about what had happened. The blood, the wounds on both of them, and the runes, were enough. She didn’t want to know more. Her little boy was safe. The young man that helped him escape was under her care now and she wouldn’t let anyone else take advantage of his lack of understanding of the world around him.

“Tomorrow we will head into town, have another doctor look at Wingdings, get you some clothes, and sell what we can of what you brought. If anyone asks what happened just deflect any and all questions to myself or Treb. We will handle it.”

--

He smiled back, weirdly thrilled at the idea of going into town with other monsters and being on the other end of a trade. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust anymore, how much of his knowledge was faulty because of lies, but he could trust his own eyes at least. He’d be able to do that much when they got into town. See the world on his own, a little, with these other monsters.

He hadn’t really been around other monsters before, now that he thought about it.

It was exciting. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

--

She smiled again and stood, patting him on the shoulder. “Good lad. Do you want more to eat or drink? Would you like to rest with the little one?”

--

“I can rest, you’ve already given me a lot,” he said, though he was slow to relinquish his grip on the teacup.

--

Vrinda nodded and glanced at the cup. “... Did you like the tea?”

--

He nodded quickly. “It… tasted really different from what I’m used to. What type was it?”

--

“Just regular black tea.” Vrinda chuckled, her voice scratchy and not very feminine at all. “Things taste different when they’re made with positive emotions.”

She reached out, taking the mug from him. “You’ll probably love dinner if you’ve never had something like that before.”

--

“Oh,” he said, taking the mug but looking at it in a whole new light. “...Oh! Should I? Um. Help with dinner?”

Was he even supposed to ask, or just assume he was supposed to help? Or since everything was mixed up right now, was it a given he wouldn’t, since apparently the world was all opposites?

...if this was what positive emotions tasted like, did that mean he’d never made anything with positive emotions?

If this was what Dings had been eating, did that mean he’d hated Rage’s food…?

--

“Not tonight.” Vrinda patted his shoulder again. “Go rest. We’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”

He was a member of the family, which did mean he would have to help eventually, but… not now. He was new and deserved at least a solid week of rest before being given chores like the little one.

--

He nodded and moved to go upstairs when she took her hand off his shoulder, pausing long enough to say, “Thank you,” again.

He headed upstairs and returned to Dings’ room, heading in quietly and trying to see if the kid was awake or not.

--

The little skeleton was fast asleep, his head propped up and rolled over onto its good side while he slept. He looked exhausted, but happy.

The bed was big enough for both of them easily.

--

He slid into the other side of the bed as quietly as he could, careful to not touch the younger skeleton.

The bed was wide and soft, and… he was safe in it.

He wasn’t going to be woken roughly or stepped on or accidentally overlooked. He didn’t have to wake up in time to make food.

He just slept.

--

The little one slept soundly beside him, eventually clinging at him as the afternoon stretched on into evening.

Vrinda would walk in and very gently rouse her son, helping him sit up a little before touching Rage to wake him as well.

“Supper is ready. The washbasin is right there to wash up.” She gestured to a bowl with a rag and soap set on the nearby dresser.

--

He woke as quietly as he’d fallen asleep, taking a moment to look around and remember exactly where he was. Why he felt clean. Why he was so at ease.

He grinned and shuffled off the bed with Dings, washing up thoroughly before following the little skeleton downstairs, not sure if it was normal to be this excited about being fed or if it was just the emotions he’d had in the tea and the idea that it would be like this for a long time now--!

--

Vrinda helped her boy up and gave him a few moments to regain his sense of balance from his head wound, then lead him downstairs, apparently a little worried he might fall if he was a little dizzy.

Treb was the one setting the table this time, the huge skeleton putting out dishes and cutlery. He tapped the seat set for their new member of the family before heading back into the kitchen with Vrinda.

The smell was probably something Rage had never experienced first-hand before. Monster food was powered by magic and the emotions they were made with, the more care put into the food the better it tasted, the more it could heal.

Dings started to walk into the kitchen, nearly bumping into his father’s huge legs as he came out the door.

They signed something to one another, Treb shaking his head and motioning for the little boy to sit back down.

Dings climbed back into his seat beside Rage while his father began to set plates of food in front of them. A cooked hen, dried fruits, stewed vegetables, and bread. Dings kept his hands down in his lap as he watched, unused to not helping with dinner.

It was quiet, but lively. Vrinda came back into the room and filled everyone’s mugs with cider. Treb carved the hen and served it out, giving Rage a hefty portion before he sat down.

The rest of the meal was passed around the table, everyone scooping a portion for themselves that always started with Treb and ended with Dings.

Dings signed something to his mother as they started to eat.

“It’s a special occasion.” She smiled, “We’re a family again. So eat your fill.”

--

Rage was almost overwhelmed, looking around at the food being brought out and placed in front of him. He wasn’t used to eating anything he hadn’t cooked himself, and the most he’d ever cooked was for two and a child--anything the merchant had to celebrate, he’d gone into town for, and Rage had definitely never been invited along, so he’d never seen this sort of feast in his life. The portion of chicken on his plate alone was plenty to fill him up!

He took very small portions of the rest of the food on the table as it was passed to him, not wanting to be wasteful but desperately wanting to try at least a little bit of everything. He waited a good three seconds after the rest of the table began to eat, still trying to really comprehend that he was here, sitting at the table, being cared for, given a family--

His chest clenched and he ate very, very slowly, refusing to tear up when the emotions of the food took their effect.

He was just happy.

--

The new family of four ate quietly and happily, conversation being sparse and only of light subjects, half of which were in a silent gesture of hands. When everyone was finished Treb and Vrinda stood to begin cleaning up, again having to tell Dings to sit and not help.

He looked a little indignant and signed something to his mother.

“No chores for you for a week. All of your energy is to go right here-” She tapped her head.

--

Rage tried to follow the conversation, even if half of it was beyond him. He managed a guess at some of the symbols, judging by Vrinda’s responses, mostly. He moved to try and stack his dishes and organize them to carry into the kitchen, but hesitated when Vrinda stopped Dings, wondering if it applied to him as well or not, since he wasn’t very injured--especially after the meal.

--

Vrinda tsked him too and took the plates from him. “I will give you things to do tomorrow if you are that eager, but today is for resting. Do you know how to read?”

--

He quickly surrendered the plates and sat back down, shaking his head. “Just maps, ma’am.”

--

“Then that is something you can go do.” Vrinda smiled and looked down at her son, “Take him into the reading room. Give him a headstart on learning how to read.”

Dings nodded happily and took Rage’s hand to lead him into a room he had yet to be in connected to the dining room. It was spacious with big windows and… way more books than a simple family of farmers had the right to own. Bookshelves lined the walls filled with things in both the latin alphabet and wingdings, stacks sat by the walls, and pillows lay on the floor for them to sit on, as well as a large comfortable chair that looked like it was Treb’s, and a small rocking chair beside it.

--

His eyes widened as he walked in and he pulled his free hand to his chest, almost afraid to touch anything. Books were so expensive, and they had so many here…

He followed anywhere Dings took him, still reeling a little that he was going to learn how to read.

--

The little skeleton lead him over to one shelf and climbed onto a tiny step ladder to reach a particular one. When he stepped back down he handed it over, a translation book for the latin alphabet into wingdings with detailed drawings of all the different symbols used.

He grinned and tapped the cover, then made motions with his hands.

Rage could learn both!

--

Rage nodded slowly, unsure if he was supposed to take the book or not, and a little hesitant to do so at all, even with permission.

“I, um,” he said, having assumed Vrinda would be the one teaching him. “How do I learn if I don’t know either of them to start with, though…?”

--

Dings wasn’t sure how to respond, the little boy thinking for a moment before mumbling “mmm!” and pointing at where Vrinda was in the kitchen. Mom would teach him but he could look at it until she was finished the the chores!

The book was thrust at him before he grabbed another.

This was a picture book that was rough around the edges, indicating many years of wear. He handed him that one too.

It was his favorite before he learned how to read wingdings.

--

He took the book, fumbling a moment before finally getting a good hold on it. He took the picture book much more easily, shuffling to sit down on the floor.

The wingdings and latin book was what he was supposed to look at, but…

He opened the picture book instead.

--

Dings settled down beside him on the pillows and looked at it with him; a silent story about a rabbit monster playing a game with all their friends, both human and monster.

By the time they finished Vrinda was walking through the door, hands drying on her apron. “Showing him your favorite?”

Dings nodded.

“Your father has a bath started for you, run along while I help get Rage started on his reading lesson.”

He pouted and signed.

“Run along.” Vrinda repeated a little more sternly, the tiny skeleton rolling off the pillows and heading out the door.

--

He’d been watching the story and--found it a little less cheerful than Dings had.

He didn’t mention it, just a little glad when Vrinda arrived and sent Dings off. He closed the picture book carefully and set it back on the shelf, instead picking up the latin and wingdings book, looking at her questioningly.

--

Vrinda approached him and took the book, then settled herself on the floor beside him. Her hands with delicate and slender, clean and with very few marks or scuffs, unlike her scratched and jagged husband.

“Before I begin I want you to know that in this house reading is very important.” She looked at Rage seriously, a hand resting on the cover of the book. “Starting tomorrow I will be giving you lessons in wingdings and the latin alphabet and I want you to take it very seriously. Understood?”

Her words were heavy but her voice was kind.

--

He nodded quickly, “Yes, ma’am.”

Reading was a--a rare skill in a lot of places he’d been.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. But he nodded all the same.

--

Vrinda nodded happily, “Good.”

She opened the book and began to go through it with him slowly, teaching him very basic symbols in wingdings and showing him with her hands, as well as their latin equivalent. Even as the evening grew dark she continued, lighting a candle and bringing it close to teaching him as much as she could.

Dings would come by again, cleaned and in fresh clothing. He would snuggle into his mother’s lap as she read, eyes dozing along with the lesson. Treb would come in as well, peacefully listening along while he rested in his chair.

--

Rage paid close attention, learning slowly, but diligently repeating each letter and symbol, drawing it out on the floor with his fingers and shaping them to his hands to try and learn the form of them and connect them together.

Maybe if he learned them both closely enough, he would be able to read them both equally as easy?

As more of the family came into the room and the night grew darker, Rage began to grow tired. He was full and warm and his bones didn’t ache, and as much as he tried to keep memorizing, he found himself growing heavy-eyed and tired.

--

Vrinda took notice right away and slowly closed the book, setting it aside. “That will do for today. I’ll teach you more tomorrow. Go on and head to bed. We’ll wake you in the morning for breakfast before heading into town.”

Without needing to be told or directed Treb stood up and slowly lifted the smaller little skeleton into his arms, Dings having long since fallen asleep in his mother’s lap.

The large skeleton lead them both to their bedroom and tucked his son in.

--

Rage nodded gratefully, trying hard to not yawn and following Treb upstairs after thanking Vrinda once more. He wanted to wait until Treb was out of the room to climb into bed--another old habit, one that might leave one day--but didn’t want to disturb Dings at all.

--

Treb gently pet his son’s head before turning to leave the room, his hand patting Rage on the shoulder as he passed in his own way of saying ‘goodnight’ before leaving completely, the door slowly closing.

--

Rage relaxed and crawled into bed a moment later, again making sure to give Dings plenty of space.

He curled up in bed and rested, looking forward to waking up again.

--

Dawn would come and the door would open. Vrinda would wake up Rage on his own this time, letting her son sleep in and heal a little more while they prepared breakfast.

The washbasin was set in the same spot with soap and a towel to wash up before the day began. Once he was finished and they were both out of the room she closed the door gently behind her and spoke softly, “Breakfast will be ready shortly. In the meantime would you go into the barn and give him a better idea of what some of the items are and where you got them?”

--

Rage nodded, saying a quick, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ before heading outside. He had to look around somewhat to locate the barn and it’s entrance, but hurried over as soon as he did, knocking and poking his head in. “Mr. Trebuchet…? Ms. Vrinda asked me to come tell you about some of the items?”

--

Treb nodded, a number of the items in front of him on the barn floor. He knew his wife had explained exactly what he needed from him; some items’ purpose and where they got it, so he would point to each one and wait for an answer without having too much of a language barrier.

--

Rage closed the barn door and walked closer, settling in beside Treb and waiting to be told what to start with.

The merchant had come across a lot of different items over the two years Rage had lived with him, and he’d kept some of the most valuable and unusual for his own. Rage hadn’t discarded very much when taking the wagon and mules. Most of it was still around.

--

Depending on where and what some of the items were, Treb would put them in very particular piles. Metals, fabrics, price, all seemed to have a place to go.

As they began to finish, Vrinda came into the barn and closed the door behind her. Her usual stride changed into less like a housewife and more like… something else. She stood behind her husband as he hunched over the items, arms locking behind her back rather than in front over her apron as they had before.

“What are you thinking, Treb?” She asked, her voice different suddenly in a lot of ways. It was authoritative and commanding, but not mean. Just… stern. Very stern.

He signed something to her without looking at her and she nodded.

“We’ll have those melted down.” She pointed to the metal items. “Sell for material rather than their actual purpose.”

--

As soon as Vrinda entered, Rage noticed the change in demeanor, and turned slowly to face her, keeping his back away.

He wasn’t scared of that authority in her voice or the rigidness of her posture, just… wary.

Just wary. Because he’d only ever been hurt by people who carried themselves so confidently.

This was still the skeleton who had fed him yesterday, though. Who had let him wash and given him clothes and allowed him to sleep in a bed--in her son’s bed.

But he couldn’t shake the tenseness of his shoulders or unbend his spine, just watching quietly as she and her husband talked.

--

“Can you still call in that favor to Leofrick?” Vrinda asked and Treb nodded. She patted him on the shoulder, “Good. Have him take the more high gold items that we shouldn’t be seen with.”

Her magic glowed yellow as she pushed a few of the items together without touching them. “Those.”

Treb nodded obediently and started to gather everything up. Vrinda then turned to Rage, her voice softening but not losing its authority. “I’m sorry to ask this so bluntly, but did you kill him?”

--

He stiffened under her gaze, but hesitated only a moment before giving a single, sharp nod.

He had liked it, too.

--

Her eyes went dark. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either.

“Good.”

--

He blinked a little, surprised at that reaction. Maybe not so much that she was glad the man who’d hurt her son was dead, but--

...he hadn’t expected it. Somehow. There was something in her face and tone that kept him on edge.

“You’re not upset?”

--

Vrinda closed her eyes and shook her head, eyes opening again to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Young man, if you hadn’t have done it I would have gone out to find them myself. They hurt my boy. He is scarred for life. His vision is permanently affected. He has a tracking rune in his hand and so do you.” She glanced down at his wrist.

“I think you did the right thing and I’m proud of you for taking action when you knew there was injustice happening around you.”

--

He nodded slowly again, almost shying from the hand before making himself relax into it. He glanced down at his wrist as well, forehead creasing as he lifted it up and rubbed it gently.

“...is it really that bad?” He was glad he’d done a good thing, but--

“I… didn’t realize…”

--

Vrinda hovered beside him for a moment before kneeling down to sit next to him. She touched his wrist gently, “It’s treating a living being like an object to do this. I can’t say what he was like, but… you have to be a despicable creature to do this to another.”

--

He let her touch it, watching carefully.

That merchant had raised him. Cared for him. Been the only family he’d known. He’d thought it was all normal; he would’ve continued along just fine with that life until the child skeleton came stumbling in and trying so hard to escape. So scared of being hit.

He’d been fine, living like that. Was it really so terrible from the outside…?

“It hurt.”

--

Vrinda frowned and reached up, taking Rage’s head gently into her hands and pulling him close into a hug.

“Everything is alright now. You’re with us. We won’t let anyone trick you ever again.”

--

He accepted the hug, chest tight, trying to gather up the strength he had to shake his head. To keep speaking.

“No. When I killed him. I made it hurt.”

--

Vrinda said nothing, squeezing the boy a little tighter. At those words Treb came over and kneeled in front of them, looking angry. He signed aggressively before his wife translated for him, “He deserved whatever you did to him for hurting an innocent child.”

--

Slowly, Rage nodded again. If Trebuchet meant to call Rage an innocent child, he didn’t understand--the only child he had in his mind was Dings. And he nodded.

He’d done the right thing.

He’d killed him. And it had been right.

--

Vrinda sighed and released Rage before standing, “We should head back inside, the little one will be waking soon. Remember what I said about going into town. If anyone asks, deflect them to Trebuchet or myself.”

--

He nodded again, face set. “Right. I will.”

He’d done the right thing.

--

The three of them headed back inside, Vrinda setting the table and this time getting Rage to help while Treb walked upstairs to wake their son. He came down with him a moment later, the little boy rubbing his good eye and settling into his seat at the table.

“Feeling better today?” Vrinda asked, her voice completely back to how it had been.

Dings nodded tiredly and she pet his head. “We’re heading into town today to pick up some things and get you healed again.”

--

Rage fell into the role of helping easily, learning where things were kept and what was expected on this table.

It all felt a little more real when he was working. Like maybe he’d really been taken somewhere else, instead of this all being a very strange long dream he might some day wake up from.

--

Breakfast wasn’t as extravagant as last night’s meal, but it was still made with care and would heal well. Eggs, bread, and potatoes. They would sit and eat, the conversation sparse if nonexistent.

Then they would clean up and Treb would hook up the cart, the items in the back under a blanket. He pulled himself up behind the mules and Vrinda would help Dings into the back where Rage could go too, then settled up front with her husband.

--

He cleaned his plate fully and enjoyed the care once again, still a little overwhelmed by it, but glad it was there. He helped clean and climbed in the back of the wagon with ease, looking around as they traveled into town, taking in the scenery.

--

The ride would be peaceful, the parents occasionally discussing what they would be doing in the town once they arrived. Treb would drop them off at the edge of town before heading to find Leofrick, Vrinda would take the boys to the healer, get Wingdings checked over and healed as best possible, then get some clothing for Rage.

They discussed getting some writing materials for the boys, both of them needing to learn how to write. Perhaps see if the bookstore had anything new.

There was no talk at all about what they would tell the others in town. Not around Dings.

The farmscape broke way to closer knit houses before they arrived into town roughly an hour later. It was no city, but it had everything you would need. Books, clothing, a market, all the essentials and then some.

It was… oddly quiet.

Humans and monsters milled about together, a lot of them not speaking but using the same signs as Dings and Treb used. The signs were in wingdings first and foremost with only occasionally having the latin version underneath.

Treb stopped the wagon to allow Vrinda to jump off, who came around the back and helped her son out of the cart.

--

Rage climbed out of the cart on his own, gravitating towards Vrinda and Trebuchet, not daring to go much further away from them than a few steps.

The last time he’d been in town had been a frantic haze, so he took his time turning his head, looking around and observing the signs. He tried to recognize the wingdings from his studies last night, and somewhat succeeded.

--

Trebuchet continued on with the cart through the street, Vrinda carrying Dings as she lead Rage towards the healer. It was pretty similar to the one he had taken him to before, the front small with only a counter and a curtain behind it that lead into the back rooms.

A furred monster came out at the sound of the bell and instantly looked shocked.

“Vrinda! Oh my goodness you found him?” She rushed around the counter, “Oh my goodness oh my goodness, come on, bring him back.”

Vrinda didn’t say anything at first, carrying her son into the back and leading Rage along with her, wanting to keep him close. The furred monster did give him a longer look than usual, but was mostly worried about the tiny skeleton in Vrinda’s arms.

The back was filled with potions, herbs, and bandages. Vrinda set Dings down on the chair and the monster went right to work unwrapping his head.

“What on earth happened?”

“He was kidnapped.” Vrinda said bluntly, the monster spinning around to stare at the skeleton in shock, then looked at Rage.

“Not him.” She said very quickly, “Apparently a man is going around kidnapping monsters wanting to make slaves.”

It was simple and the truth, to a point. It was what her son had told her and she knew he would go around telling others, so it was easier to mold her story around her son’s than manipulate him into lying. She wouldn’t do that to him.

--

Rage stayed close to Vrinda, not backing away even when the furred monster stared at him for long enough that he could almost believe she knew what he’d done.

But he’d done the right thing.

So he stayed strong. Head up. And kept close to the other skeletons. Listening closely to Vrinda’s conversation--it wasn’t exactly what happened, but she said she’d take care of it. Even if she wanted him to send people to her for explanations, it was important he got his own story straight and aligned it with hers.

...he’d be lying.

He’d be lying.

And that was okay.

--

“You’re kidding…” The woman said as she undressed the bandage around Dings head, doing well to hold her face still as she saw the wound. “This is certainly not helping monster/human relations… Things are really beginning to get worrying, aren’t they?”

Vrinda nodded and Dings signed, trying to smile up at the healer with one slumped eye, the light in it completely gone.

“... Did he now?” The healer looked at Rage again, surprised.

Vrinda nodded, arms crossed and voice authoritative again. “He helped Wingdings get back home and has nowhere to go, so he’ll be living with us now.”

--

Monster… human relations…

He’d. Maybe be able to ask. Later, though.

For now, he just watched the conversation, even though he couldn’t understand part of it. He thought he might’ve recognized one or two of the gestures, but couldn’t piece them together fully.

He ducked his head a little, embarrassed at the mention of him having nowhere to go. It wasn’t embarrassing exactly, but…

...maybe it wasn’t embarrassment as much as he wasn’t used to feeling so pleased?

--

The monster nodded, buying the story well even if it wasn’t 100% the truth. “How did he hurt your head so badly, Dings?”

‘Hit me with a cane.’ The little boy signed, to which the healer let out another ‘oh my goodness’ and began to heal what she could.

“He’ll have permanent scarring. There isn’t much more I’ll be able to do in ways of closing the gap. That means less rough-housing, young man.”

Dings pouted, ‘What about my eyes?’

The monster stopped what she was doing and hovered her claws over each eye socket, magic glowing. “... I’m sorry sweetie. The damage is done.”

The little skeleton’s face sunk and the healer looked heartbroken as she went back to healing his head.

--

Rage fidgeted, looking up at Vrinda and then back down at Dings.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again.

He watched the wound instead, trying to see if he could actually notice it closing.

--

Vrinda looked at Rage, but didn’t force him to speak if he didn’t want to. If it was something more delicate she gave him a look as it say ‘we can talk later’.

It was closing a little, but… it would always be a long crack from his eye socket to the back of his head. His vision was forever damaged.

The healer started to rebandage him, “Do you want me to heal his hand too?”

“No.” Vrinda said quickly, “It’s as healed as it’s going to get.”

She didn’t want them to see the rune. It was… very graphic. It took a special kind of thing to carve a rune into a child’s hand.

--

At the mention of the hand, Rage… shifted his wrist a bit. Just enough to hide it against his side, the inside pressed against himself, so that no one could see it.

He’d never had a problem with it before, but after talking with Vrinda this morning, he was suddenly much more conscious about it. Like he had something evil printed on him, and it wasn’t ever going to go away.

He’d ask for something to hide it when they left the office. Not now, though. For now, he just kept his wrist close to himself, hoping it looked casual.

--

Not much long after they were walking out of the healer’s office, Vrinda paying her and the monster offering Dings a tiny piece of sugar-coated, dried fruit as a treat for being good.

She lead her son and Rage out into the street. “We’ll get you some clothes now, then stop by the-”

“DIIIINGS!” A shrill little voice screamed, a tiny black monster with one large eye, a cat-like mouth and furred claws pushing his way through the crowd towards them.

[ashlynnesworld-blog]

The Insubordinate Society

"Jimmy, Jimmy come down here quick," called my mother in an over-dramatic voice.

I was sitting on my bed when my mother called me down. I ran my hand through my hair tugging on the end. I looked in the mirror that was placed on the wall next to my television. Picking up a brush, I combed through my jet black. My skin was always tanned due to how hot it was in Westwood. It was always sunny; the climate was controlled.  

I smiled into the mirror to check if I had anything in my teeth so my mom wouldn’t yell at me about being improper.

Running down the steps, tripping over the last of them, I made my way into the kitchen. Marble table top was running around the perimeter with decorative cabinet's hanging above it.  

There was a variety of spices hanging below the cabinet's as though they were floating in the air. The stove was placed in the middle of the semicircular kitchen. It was one of those hibachi stoves that my mother insisted we get as she loved to cook.

The fridge found its place in front of the stove between where the marble table top would have connected.

I was poking my head in the fridge looking for food when my mother voice snapped me out of my trance.

My mother looking very annoyed said in a strained voice, " Are you even listening to me?"

My mom was a short, middle-aged woman. Her hair was blond like my sister, but more of an ashy tone and cut into a bob. It made her look older, the way it shaped her face. She stood at only 5 feet compared to my father, who was 6'2. She was a very petite woman and her skin was milky white. She stood before me dressed in an apron and denim jeans and a white wool sweater.  

I decided to play into her irritation by putting my hand on my heart and saying " What! Of course, I'm listening to you. Why would you think otherwise?".

" This is serious Jimmy," She said annoyed obviously.

The look on her face made me roll my eyes. With an amused smile, I stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

Before she could say anything, Mickey, my older sister burst through the front door. Her long, blond hair was swinging behind her. She was 2 years older than me, 19 to be exact, but she acted like we were the same age. She was also a lot shorter than me, her being only 5'3 and me being 6'1. She had more freedom then I did, but when she came in with Chuck Hindral following in her footsteps, I knew they were bound to get in trouble for something.

Chuck wasn't a bad guy. Honestly, he was decent. He was a 6ft quarterback, built like Dwayne Johnson and he had a satisfactory grade point average.  He had long sandy brown hair that he constantly moved out of his face with this weird head movement. He often looked like he had some condition that kept his head in constant motion. It was funny to look at.

My sister tried to sneak past us and up the stairs when my mom called her back down.

The look on my mom's face could kill anyone in a mile's radius. Now that the attention was away from me, I silently thanked my sister and went back to my room.

For the few quiet minutes I got to myself I decided to practice my piano.  I was in the middle of my song when a knock at the door stopped me mid key.

"Who is it?" I called getting up to walk to the door.

" Mickey" my 17-year-old sister called quietly.

I opened the door and she came staggering in.

"What's up," I asked when she didn't say anything.

After making sure the coast was clear she said barely above a whisper, "Mom's going to kill us".

"Us?" I said flabbergasted. "I didn't do anything. What did you do Mic?"

"I didn't do anything!" she said in a rushed voice. Her voice going just above a whisper in a hurried tone.

I didn't know what else to say to that, so I said the obvious.

"Okay... Well, where's Chuck?"

"Mom sent him home. She told him we needed to have a family meeting and for him to come back another day."  

I sat up straight, "Family meeting what for?" I said quizzically.

"I have no idea. That's why I'm here now. I think she found out that I left after curfew 2 days ago to meet with some friends at a party." Every time she spoke she looked guilty. I had a feeling that more than 'meeting with some friends' happened, but I didn't feel like pressing the issue.

"And how would she find that out," I said.

"I don't know. You're the only one that saw me, I think. So, if you told, just know you're going down with me. I got stuff on you to buddy."

And with that, she exited my room.

I knew her threat was empty so it wouldn't be stretched too far. What does she have on me? That I go to sleep in my underwear and sometimes Skype call my friends in the middle of the night to play video games together.

I wish my sister would have common sense. Her risky behavior could get us kicked out of our house or even killed in some cases. If not one or the other, then both.

I decided to take a nap before dinner. I snuggled up in bed, fully clothed in my school uniform even though I came home a few hours ago.

I dreamed of being hungry. I dreamed of being full. I dreamed of wanting to go outside for more than 4 hours a day excluding weekends. I dreamed of all different things. I dreamed of what the world would be like in 10,20,30 years. My dreams of the homeless being fed and cared for was soon put to an end when my mom's loud banging woke me up.

"Come downstairs! Family meeting right now!" with one last knock she left. I feared that she could tell what I was dreaming about but then realized I would be in trouble every night if she could.

You can't blame me for wanting to be a peacemaker. I just wanted everything to be the way it was years ago. My grandma was telling me about how the rules were limited to none. You could stay out as late as you want but it would cause suspicion sometimes. She also said you were able to listen to any songs and go to any public school you wanted. I had to take 2 buses to get to my school. I had to apply to get into high school as if I was going to college. They banned those years ago when the population of working people started to decrease. So, after year 12, you went straight into the working class.

I got up and tossed on some sweatpants and a wife beater. As I made my way downstairs, Mickey soon caught up with me.

She scooted past me, not before whispering a, "Remember what I said," with a long face.

With one squeeze to my shoulder, she teetered in front of me and into the living room. We both plopped down on the couch in front of my mom, who was pacing back and forth.

After a while of that, I couldn't take it anymore and said

"Can you please stop pacing backs and forth it's driving me-

She cut me off by saying, " When your dad comes home from work-

She stopped to take a deep breath while we watched her with curious eyes,"-he has something he needs to share with us. "

She looked at us gaging our reactions.

When she realized we weren't reacting the way she expected us to, she continued and said " Now I know it may not seem like a big thing to you but trust me it has to be important. Anytime your father has something to tell us about work, it's important.  I hope you guys are smart enough to know that".

She said all of that while rolling her eyes, then plopped down on the couch across from us with a hand rubbing her temple. She seemed to age 10 years in 2 seconds.  

I looked over at my sister, and boy did she seem relieved, happy even.

Her eyes met mine and an expression that I couldn't place crossed over her face. In a flash, she got up and said in her best sympathizing voice said

"I'm sure everything going to be ok. I'm going to head back up to my room to wash up. I'll come back down when dad gets here for dinner."

And then she left.

I scratched the back of my head. I knew my mom expected more of a reaction from us, but I couldn't think of anything to say. So, while her head was resting in her lap, I quietly got up and exited the room.

I didn't know what to do now. I did all my homework. Practiced the piano.  

There's not much you can do in Westwood. We all have specific rules and if we obey, we get rewarded if we don't, we get degraded and thrown out of our home.

I don't know anyone who would want to get thrown out. I heard stories about them on several occasions.

"...they look like monsters..."

"...they have a disease..."

"...they all look possessed..."

I don't understand why the government would allow them to run around outside the community gates all day. Anyone that gets kicked out their homes, must fend for themselves. Yearly, they would have an event to see if they can gain the respect of the government. I never saw or got to watch the event, I just know when it happens because my mom would watch it on our tv and tell me and Mickey to go upstairs.

If they win they are given back their property. The catch is... only one person wins. So, if there is a family of 4 and the father wins, only he can return to Westwood. Most of the time, they start a whole new family and abandon their previous one. When my mom explained that concept to me one year, I felt disgusted. What type of people rip apart a family with no remorse.

For the longest I referred to them as "the crazies" but my mom told me that the society refers to them as "outsiders" because they aren't allowed inside the gate. I figured they'd try to do something about it soon, but they seem to be content with the way things are being run in the government.

I used to feel bad for them, but I guess they deserved it. When things are put into your head at a young age, you grow up thinking all the things you've learned were morally right. My mom told me, "You should never try to challenge the system."

I learned that the hard way, years ago.

"Mommy, mommy!" 7-year-old Jimmy cried.

"Yes, boy?" My mom said while patting my head.

"I'm hungry," I whined.

As if right on time, my stomach decided to do cartwheels, letting out a loud groan.

"Seems like it Jimmy, why don't we go inside here and get some food. "She pointed to an old shack called Jack and Mary's pizzeria.

At that moment, I would have eaten anything. We went inside the pizzeria and I let the mouth-watering aroma take over me.

"Hello there, what will you be having today?" an over cheeky waitress asked in a high-pitched voice.

Even though it was only 2 o'clock, I still felt that her bubbliness was unnecessary.

"Two cheese pizzas please," I said with a smile to be polite.

"Okay we'll bring it out to you shortly," She said after my mother paid her and took the receipt shoving it in her pocket.

Making our way over to a booth, something just outside the window caught my attention.

Outside the entrance was an elderly man that was dressed in a torn dirty shirt that looked like it used to be white. He had fading gray hair and a bread that was long enough to braid. His pants were...well...they were missing. His legs were scuffed up with cuts and scratches. He appeared to be arguing with a worker from the store.

I hadn't realized I was starting until my mom grabbed my arm.

"We should sit towards the back," was her reasoning for pulling me away from the window.

Now sitting towards the back of the small cafe, my mom tried to make conversation.

"So how was school today?" She asked anxiously.

"Fine," I said not really paying attention. I couldn't take my eyes off the mysterious bearded man.

I'd never seen them up close. Now that I had, my appetite was shot.

My mom followed my gaze" he's a poverty scum."

When he finally ventured away from the cafe, I looked up at my mom, "What happened to him."

"He disobeyed the law and challenged authority," My mom said in such a voice of hatred it made me shiver.

"Here you guys go, two cheese slices," The waitress said to us before leaving to tend to another customer.

When I laid eyes on the best pizza I would ever digest in my life, I pushed away the image of the man outside the window.

I added a variety of spices that sat on the booth we were at. I made sure not to add any of the red leafy things because they were hot against my tongue.

Looking out the window, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. It was a nice beautiful day today. I was also watching out the window in hopes of seeing the bearded man again. Looking down at my plate, I realize I only took a few bites out of my pizza.

My mother didn't like food going to waste so before I could ask if I should throw it away, she told me to get a bag, so I could finish it later.

With that being said, I got up and walked to the counter.

Grabbing the bag, my mother and I began our journey home.

Halfway there, we stumbled upon the same outsider we had seen earlier eating out of a garbage can.

"Hey mom, look!!" I said loud enough for him to hear me. He had to be in his late 40's. His beard seemed to be thinning and slightly gray.

He looked at us with a startled expression. He then dove behind the garbage can.

Mom grabbed my arm, "come on, let's go."

"But mom I think he's hungry"

Before she had a chance to stop me, I ran up to him and gave him my half-eaten pizza.

I mean I knew I ate some of it but it's the thought that counts right.?

Wrong.

My mother called me out in a way that sounded like I had killed a man.

I walked back to her and she did something I didn’t expect at all.

She slapped me.

She slapped me so hard, I felt like her handprint was permanently on the side of my face.

I was only 7.

I didn't know any better.

She brought her face down to mine, so we were eye to eye and said in a menacing whisper, "Do not ever do something like that again. We do not help those people. You better hope nobody saw that little stunt you just pulled. Are you mad? Are you trying to get us killed? We DON’T help them, they deserve this."

At this point, I had tears trailing down my face.

"But mommy I was only trying to help..."I said pleading with her to believe me.

"Help?" My mom said in a mocking voice. "Your 'help' is only going to get us killed. Heroes are only fictional so don't try to be one."

I was hurt, confused and ashamed.

Since that day, I made it a mission to find out what happened to the old man. What happens to all of them...

Till this day, I remember what he looks like.

I couldn't forget.

But before I could help anyone, I had to fight my own demons in this crazy game of life.