#i’m livid and emotional and i need a nap

[cutedumbbunny]

EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (2)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc: 5264)

You swung your legs over the edge, feet ghosting just above the calm lake that surrounded this part of the forest. It was a bit far from the village, but you felt more at ease knowing that you wouldn’t be found easily. This was your own place and ironically enough, a spot you and Jake had found years ago. You could see the familiar marks left from the arrows you had shot, deeply engraved in some of the trunks. 

One drawing had caught your eye. From one of the trees, a bit taller than the rest; an image of you and your father. It was silly, clearly etched by the hands of a kid no older than six. The lines were harsh as the wood itself was tough, but it was there– almost mockingly. You scoffed, mindlessly grabbing a pebble and flinging it right on the center. 

You have barely moved since you arrived here; detached yourself the moment you had sat near the jagged rocks. It was a habit you presumed you got from Jake. The longer you stayed, the more you succumbed to your ever-bleeding wounds– there was just something so tragic about being an eldest daughter.   

You weren’t all bite, despite the constant snarl on your lips. You weren't so egotistical as to think that you couldn't possibly be wrong, but tonight, tonight you knew damn well Jake was to blame. 

‘Is it because I’m not your daughter?’ 

Your own voice had rang through your mind. You wince in response, cringing internally. That could very well be the case– you weren't part of their family. You can’t help but think that they may have done it out of pity. 

But Kiri wasn’t exactly their own either. In fact, you and Kiri weren’t at all opposites at birth.

While you came from Tsu’tey, she was from Grace; both of you from separate blood and brought together by one. However you weren’t exactly close to Eywa or have the skills she possessed. Kiri was undeniably special– spiritual and awfully attuned. Heck, she had managed to tame her own ikran simply by asking it to be her friend. 

Still, there was no reason for Jake to treat you differently. You were jealous– of course you are. If he’s able to be as gentle as he is with your baby sister, why couldn’t he with you? It was a sickening thought, to think that he acts so rigid and unrelenting around you while he looked at her like she had hanged every star in the night sky. Sure Kiri was special, but you were at least his daughter too. Can’t he spare you even just a second of a loving glance?

With Kiri, he listens intently– looks at her with such tenderness as he takes in her every word. It was the same gaze he wore whenever we visited the sky-people lab; Jake would stare a bit too long at Grace, expression somewhere along the line of reminiscing. Whenever he had moments like these, his eyes would hold some sort of longing– a promise. Perhaps it was because Grace meant the world to him– literally. She taught him everything about Pandora, showed him the way of the Na’vi; gave him another shot at living. 

Kiri was exactly like her mother; wise and cunning. Jake probably sees Grace in her very image.  

You’d think this would be the embodiment of every father with their daughters; kind and vulnerable, but you would argue otherwise. When he looked at you, it was more of regret– grief prolonging. It was a gaze so ugly and unwanted; a weight you’re not supposed to carry. 

Because you’re exactly like Tsu’tey and Jake sees him in yourself. 

It was no secret that Jake was softer when it came to Tuk and Kiri. While you are relieved that it had been that way, you can never pray for them to experience the struggles you are burdened with– it tugged on your heartstrings that you would never feel the warmer side of your father; will never know how it feels to be babied nor to be held gently. 

You were her daughter too so you didn’t understand. What made you any different from them that you had to pretend his love was hidden beneath his icy glares and dismissive grunts? These were emotions nonetheless– however odd or minuscule they may have been. You thought that maybe, just maybe, there’d be a crack to this exterior. Maybe if you tried harder, Jake would soften up to you too. 

But that wasn’t the case because he never did. You had picked apart pieces of yourself that you thought weren’t pleasing– did better despite your age. You were young and only yearned for your father’s approval. 

( “You’re not doing it right. Again.” 

As you stretched your already sore arms for the nth time, ready to take aim, his hands tug on your stance– a bit harsher than intended. Light continued to glare down on your figure as you tirelessly corrected your posture again. Your ears pricked up at the sound of your sibling’s laughter, coming to you from afar. You stole a glance at them as they continued to play and enjoy themselves by the water, their childish exuberance highlighted by their splashing around in the shallow waves.

“Can’t I take a break?” You whined, dropping your stiff shoulders. Hearing them have fun made you want to jump in as well. 

“I didn’t let you talk my ear off just to give up. Come on, you promised me a bullseye today, baby girl.” He said, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You look down to your feet, a bit embarrassed. You didn’t want him to not take you seriously– you fear that if you let him down now, he wouldn’t let you do anything again. “Just one hit and I’ll let you off–”

His head turns sharply towards Kiri as she calls out for Jake, asking him to join them in their game. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle as he yells back a short response of ‘in a minute.’

“Again, come on.” His hands move quickly and firmly grasp your arms, helping you back to the same position before. “I’ll be watching, promise.” With a light tap on your shoulder, he rushes off, chasing after your siblings towards the water.

The quicker you got it done, the sooner you would be able to play. You pulled on the string again and released a heavy sigh before releasing the arrow. After several tries of firing shots that missed their mark, you finally managed to hit dead center with one shot. Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief crossing your face before you jump excitedly, “Did you see that, dad? Did you–”

Your yell was instantly drowned out by Lo'ak's hearty laugh. You couldn't help but feel deflated as you watched your father lift him up onto his shoulders while the others trailed behind them in a fit of giggles. You run towards them, bow in hand. 

“You weren’t watching–” You tried to pull his hand in your direction, gesturing towards the arrow that was still firmly embedded into the red ring you had created on the trunk of the tree.

"Ah, darn, I missed it?" He said between breathy chuckles as Kiri tried to tug on his tail from behind, barely taking note of your work. "Why don't you do it again? This time I'll be sure to pay attention."

“But I want to play with you now.” 

“Dad– Neteyam caught something! It’s huge, come look!” Jake slowly lowers Lo'ak from his shoulders, letting them pull him towards where Neteyam stood. The children squealed at the sight of the fish (with Kiri letting out a few disgusted gags), but Jake reveled in pride. “Yeah, Neteyam, the mighty fisherman!”

You stayed still on the shore watching them– watching him. It was so easy to lose your father’s attention despite your best efforts. You retreated back to your spot, eyes glaring at the arrow sticking out from the tree. If a single bullseye wasn’t enough to impress Jake, then you’d just have to perfect your aim. Your hits will never miss again and you’ll make him proud.) 

You were clueless. If only you knew that there was no satisfying your father, you would’ve spent the days tirelessly training to play instead– to be an actual kid without having the worries of a grown adult. 

You could leave. At the thought of it, your head swiveled towards the unfamiliar path that would take you away from the clan– away from everything you know. You could leave and never come back; take your father’s name and build your own person. There was this selfish thought pricking at the back of your brain that once they noticed your absence, everyone would look for you and even feel sorry for what they put you through; that Jake would be sorry to lose you. 

You wonder what kind of reputation you'd leave for him when everyone realizes you had run away, never to come back. But it was unfair– your mother would be devastated. Neytiri had already gone through enough, were you worth another heartbreak? She didn’t deserve that. 

Suppose you could only dream that Jake would put on an effort for a search party– for him to grow hopeless and regretful while searching for you. You could only dream that he’d run towards you, arms wide open. “You scared me, sweetheart. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, dad’s sorry.” 

But you’ve been away for hours and no one has reached out yet. They probably assumed that you only needed some time and space to clear your head, not seeing any cause for alarm. The only thing that waited for you back home was a hell of a scolding and a week’s punishment of tending the ikrans. Sighing, you decided to just head back.  

Your steps are careful– silent, as you near your hut again. You expected for the worst. Neytiri could have told Jake to stay guard outside until you finally decided to come home for all you know, but you weren’t ready for another heated conversation with him just yet. So as you make your way back, you stick your neck out behind the bushes, trying to make out of the surroundings. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jake that was waiting outside. It was Kiri. Her figure glows underneath the starry night and it was hard not to be discouraged, but you suppose it was better than having to deal with your father again. 

"Kiri?" You called out in a low voice, and instantly her head snapped up. She quickly jumps to her feet upon seeing your arrival, heart racing as she rushes towards you. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms tightly around you in a hug. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try and steady herself. “Oh great mother, thank you.”

You tentatively put your arms around her in response, hands patting the top of her head. “This isn’t the first time I ran from home,” Your voice is soft– unsure. 

Feeling your hesitance, she slowly withdraws from you. “But it’s the first time sempul has said something so..” She stops herself mid-sentence, shaking her head as if to clear away her thoughts. “I worry you’d finally want to leave.” 

You stared at her, feeling your insides soften. You could never get angry at Kiri, no matter the situation. You couldn’t just leave. She was your sister still and no one would ever understand you like she does. No one will ever grow you another sibling. As much as you hated yourself, you were meant to watch as she thrives.  

Siblings were such a weird concept; it was hard for you to wrap your head around it. Despite the fact that you could hate them with every fibre of your being, you’d still love them unconditionally and protectively; despise them but burn down the whole universe for their safety. It made no sense to be so full of such strong, conflicting emotions all at once, but she was your sister and that was enough explanation.

“Stupid eywa-powers.” You joke as you take your index finger, lightly pressing it against her forehead. She playfully swats your hand away with a laugh, eyes crinkling.

She silently murmurs, “Not stupid” to herself, a small laugh escaping her lips.

You two slowly sat on your wicker chairs in front of the fire. The seat creaked as you made yourself comfortable. Jake was real handy with his hands back then– made all sorts of things for everyone. Wooden Toruks, comfortable hammocks, and each one a special chair. Everyone’s name was etched on the back and although it was a bit smaller now, considering it was made for when you were toddlers, no one had grown out of sitting on it. 

You smiled at the memory. It was like tradition for the Sully family– a silly one, but loved nonetheless. He first made you the wicker chair and although it was rather flimsy, you argued that Neteyam should have one as well when he came around. 

It was so conflicting– to be able to remember your father was mean, despite being kind, then to know him as kind, despite being mean. You fear Jake could be every word you think of but the word father. 

“Remember that time when we played hide-and-seek and we all thought Lo’ak cheated by hiding back at home only to find out we left him at the forest?” Kiri spoke, eyes fixated at the flames. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, even dad was in on it– told us not to tell mom that we left him.”

“Oh– and that one time they left us to Mo’at to have their little dates and came home to see grandma knocked out and her hut a mess?”

You laughed, rather loudly this time. You remembered the memory like it was yesterday– little Neteyam wrapped from head to toe in bandages as you two tried to play healers; pastes and herbs were scattered everywhere while Lo’ak was playing to his own devices happily (something about kid Lo’ak and wanting to play alone most of the time). “Lo’ak and his lisp trying to explain why he was covered in warrior paint all over his body.”

“Ki-ti told me to do it!” Kiri squeaked out in her best impression of Lo’ak, before both of you burst into smothered laughter— careful not to wake anyone up. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, the area was silent once more. There was no sound other than the crackle of the fire, its flame illuminating the darkness in the vicinity. 

“I’m trying to see the situation in both perspectives,” She starts once the quietness grows unbearable. You averted your gaze, not wanting to talk it out with her.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Kiri.” You threw your head back, your eyes burning a hole into the night sky.

“I just don’t want it to explode like what happened a while ago again.” 

You kiss your teeth and let out an exasperated sigh, tongue clicking as you exhale. Deep down you knew that there was no getting out of this situation, so you may as well hear what they had to say. “Fine. What’s your diagnosis, doc?” 

The flap of the hut's entrance is suddenly thrown back, revealing a rather disoriented looking Lo'ak stumbling out. It's clear he had just been stirred from his slumber. “You two aren’t as quiet as you think you are.” He said, his voice low. He made his way over to Kiri and sat down beside her with an audible yawn. “What is it this time?”

“Eywa tells me of your troubles,” Kiri starts, ignoring Lo’ak. “Father isn’t at all the greatest, I know, but he’s trying– His choices aren't really the best, but it’s what he knows. If you think about it, he was just as young once and you don’t exactly become a father twice.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“She’s saying– cut him some slack, maybe?” Lo'ak breaks the stillness with an unexpected remark, his voice quite loud in comparison to Kiri's careful words. His comment catches you off guard and you shift your position uncomfortably on your seat.

“Brother, you really have to stop going out with Spider. You and your lingo is getting harder and harder to discern.” Kiri jabs him from the side, “What he means to say is– maybe you should try being the bigger person instead?”

You let out a deep breath through your nostrils, not enjoying the direction of the conversation. Your brow crinkles in concentration as you try to make sense of why the discussion was taking this turn. You had no desire to pick apart the problem any further and yet, here you were– perhaps Neytiri told them to talk some sense to you? To quiet down for the sake of your old man?

Already sensing your anger, Lo’ak quickly interjects again. “Listen, It’s like,” He turns to you, the grogginess in his expression fading away and being replaced by something more serious. “If dad happens to reprimand us, we save our excuses or any reason we have. The response he wants is an apology and an apology is what you’re going to say– that’s it.”

“But that’s unfair.” You let out a groan, lips turning into a deep frown. “Especially to you and Neteyam.”

Lo’ak only lets out a playful scoff, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You mean, especially to Neteyam. Bro’s an automated machine– expect him to immediately take the blame.” He says, grinning. “I think dad is just.. cracking the code still? Shit, I don’t know. He had to learn to live on two different stars. It must be hard on him.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? Trying to understand someone older?” 

Lo’ak stills for a minute as heavy silence envelopes everyone. “Of course it does. It stings a lot sis– but I think, no parent deserves a resentful son when all they wanted was for me to be better.” 

Then it crashes down upon you like a heavy sack filled with rocks, a realization pressing directly against your chest as you watch Lo’ak’s face, illuminated against the flicker of the flames– the lights cast an image you failed to recognize before. Your brothers weren’t exactly immune to Jake’s ways either. He was equally as tough on them. 

Maybe you can try for their sake. Maybe you should take the initiative instead of waiting for your father’s open arms. 

“Why don’t you join us tomorrow instead? Take your mind off things. We’re visiting the old shack with Spider,” Lo'ak's hand carefully reaches for your hair, the tips of his fingers ruffling through your braids– a gesture he picked up after Neteyam. You chuckle, suddenly slightly embarrassed. 

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It is,” Kiri answers for Lo’ak, giving him a pointed glare. “Tuk heard about it and is begging to come along.” 

“More like blackmailed me– I’ll tell mom if you won’t let me come.” He put on a mocking impression of Tuk, sticking his tongue out in an exaggerated way. Kiri gave him another jab, causing him to hiss in response. “But it should be safe.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes. “We are so getting into trouble.”

“You guys go,” You say, back resting against the chair again. “Think I should fix the situation with dad first before getting in trouble again.” 

You feel Kiri’s eyes on you– gaze emitting a sense of gratitude, almost like a tangible thank you for trying. It’s funny how she’s younger than you and yet she looked out for you more than you had. 

You let out a deep sigh as the three of you settled in, reveling in the quiet serenity of the woods. The soft sounds of the forest enveloped you, providing a sense of calm that was hard to miss. Slowly, it lulled you all to a familiar kind of comfort. 

Breakfast was unsurprisingly silent. 

You felt like the room was full of robots, their limbs jerking and movements mechanically programmed as they ate. As everyone shifted ever so slightly, it seemed almost like they were doing it robotically - stiff and slow. It was like they were walking on eggshells around you and it was hard not to roll your eyes. 

It was painfully awkward– a hard watch as Jake tried hard not to make eye contact with you. Neytiri would occasionally jab him from the side and pinch the fat of his thigh. ‘Talk to her.’ – her glare would send him the message. 

He lets out a sigh before visibly gulping. “Y/n.” 

Your head suddenly jerks upwards from the bowl resting in your lap, startled by your father’s voice calling for you. Neytiri watches in anticipation while your heart pounded madly against your chest. Suddenly, the air fills with tension as all movement ceases. Not a single soul speaks or breathes– waiting.

“Pass the salt.” Jesus Christ. 

You give him a deadpan expression, stretching your arms over to pass it to him. He carefully takes it, shaking it over his already salty meal. Neytiri could only push her hands against her face in frustration, a groan of exasperation coming from deep within. After a few minutes, she finishes up and leaves with Tuk in her arms. The rest follow suit.  

“I’m off,” You finish cleaning up the table, standing up from your seat and grabbing the weapons you needed for an impromptu hunt. Without waiting for a reply, you left Jake alone on the table. 

As you trekked further into the forest, you prayed to Eywa for guidance. You were careful to smear the war paint onto your cheeks and forehead– breathing labored, but focused nonetheless. 

You figured, your father has been doing bad from the recent hunts– only coming home with fruits and small portions of meat, sometimes none at all. It was that kind of season where the animals were out to hide and hibernate. You didn’t know where you got the confidence that you’d be able to return with something, considering the best next best warriors could hardly do so. 

You had to try regardless; you thought that perhaps it could be a way for you and Jake to open up a conversation with each other. Maybe he could soften down his glare a bit when you come home with something to eat– but as hours passed and the sun burned to noon, you were only met with disappointment. 

You stopped by an unfamiliar area, leaning against a tree as you tried to catch your breath. You regret not bringing your ikran with you– just what were you thinking?

As if the great mother had noticed your desperation, a familiar sound roars from a distance. Your ears perked up as you tried to walk through the thick bushes. A lone sturmbeest, drinking by the river. You sighed in relief before hurriedly taking your bow out of your back. They mostly traveled by a herd, but today might just be your luckiest– you stretch your arms, carefully approaching the animal. 

Just this once, you pleaded, be in my favor. 

The journey home was dreadful. You had been carrying meat and a few bones for what seemed like hours on end, feeling the strain in your back from the task. It was a small sturmbeest– presumably female by the size, but it should be enough to provide meals for a week or so. Before you knew it, eclipse approached fast and you were eager to meet your hammock. 

You couldn’t see; unable to hold any form of light as you needed both hands to carry the heavy sack, but the thought of going home with something to proudly show your father rekindled the sense of pride that was long gone; a feeling you hadn't had in a long time– burned by the countless times you’ve tried to gain even a drop of recognition.

You were successful in hunting a sturmbeest when no one couldn’t for the past weeks– your father would be proud and that was all the strength you needed to continue waking. 

Noticing the familiar path back to the clan, a surge of adrenaline courses through your body from the thought of already nearing home. But as the horns blared from the village, you felt nothing but confusion– What could it mean and why this late? You quickened your pace towards them. 

Ikrans flew in, landing at the open space as everyone gathered around. You squeezed your way in through the crowd– stomach churning as the sound of Tuk's cries became more and more clear with every step; but before you could run to your baby sister, you were harshly pulled back. You immediately recognize your father’s calloused hands, but this time his grip was harsh– unrelenting. Careful not to trip on your feet, you steadied yourself, head looking up to meet his glare. 

“Where were you?” 

And just like that, your thoughts come crashing down around you from the sight of your father towering your figure, leaning in slightly. You feel it in the pit of your stomach; this wasn't what you wanted to come home to, this wasn't what you were expecting.

“Sir I–” 

“The kids are hurt,” Neytiri hissed, tugging him sharply away from you. “For once, hold your tongue.”

He gives you one last glance, nostrils flaring as he walks away. That was your cue to trail behind. You walked behind him, eyes cast downwards as your thoughts raced through your mind. Neytiri is quick to come and stand by your side, soft kisses pressed into the top of your head. “Are you hurt, ma’ite? Where were you?” She softly asks. 

You pause, feeling the words on the tip of your tongue leave the moment you try to open your mouth to speak. For some reason, you felt embarrassed— ashamed. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you neared your grandmother’s hut. You glanced back to your sibling’s shivering figures, all of them unable to look you in the eye. Neytiri didn’t answer either– didn’t know how to tell you that they had found them once again. They processed the severity of the situation still, clearly shaken up and scared. 

Everyone stepped inside, Mo'at immediately gathering each of them in a warm embrace. She spoke her thanks to Eywa in a gentle murmur, kissing the top of their heads. Neytiri quickly drew Tuk into her own arms, easing her shaking body. 

“Outside, now.” Jake whispers before leaving. You take one last look around at all the people in the room before finally following him, your palms beginning to sweat as your anxiety intensifies.

Once you both find yourselves in a place where there were no lingering stares or whispers, (and without Neytiri having to save your ass this time), he turns to you, anger just as fiery as before. He strides back and forth, feet heavy on the ground as he attempts to choose his words carefully.

“I–” He started to speak, but then averted his gaze, his jaw clenched tight as he tried again. “Where were you?” 

You try to swallow the lump forming in your throat as you mull over the question, taking a deep breath before finally attempting to answer. “I went out on a hunt. I have–”

“Without telling anyone firsthand? With scattered avatars over the perimeter?” Jake is quick to interject, arms flailing in anger. “Just what were you thinking? You knew about them going to the old shack and you did nothing to prevent it?” 

Your shoulders slump wearily, feeling extremely overwhelmed. “I only wanted to–”

“Jesus Christ, it’s always about what you want, yeah? You with wanting to be olo’eykte, you with wanting to be heard. You and your goddamn wants had us all worried!” 

And as you listen to him raise his voice, you turn younger and younger– until you were that same kid trying to tug on his arms to look at your first hit; that same kid who would do anything just for a moment of his time. It was like being ten years old all over again and realizing that he was slowly slipping away. That’s where you finally decided that Jake— your father, was just capable of unloving a child. 

You take a step back, feeling the frustration boiling over as well. “Well maybe if you were a better father, they wouldn’t have the need to go against you every once in a while!” You shouted with the same volume as his, “You act as if we’re some sort of troops rather than a family–”

“I do it for you– for everyone! To keep them safe! You think it’s easy?” 

“Well you did a pretty good job because from what I see, they’re shaking in their boots inside grandma’s hut!” You sarcastically remarked, “Best dad of Pandora, yeah?” 

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters under his breath before looking up, as if he was pleading for Eywa to lengthen his patience. He then looked at you, eyes momentarily softening. You were breathing heavily, fangs baring. It was funny, he thought. You weren’t his daughter and yet you stood in front of him now looking exactly like him. 

What he didn’t understand was that it wasn't Tsu’tey’s attitude that was passed down to you– rather, it was Jake’s anger you inherited. This was all him. All his fault. 

“I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.” You muttered, gaze not meeting his. “There’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the olo’eyktan and a father and you’re doing a real shit job at the latter.”

I miss the latter, you failed to say. 

You failed to see the way his ears flattened against his head, how his shoulders dropped like he couldn’t hold the weight of the world’s pressure anymore– but you were unable to see him. No, you two didn’t see each other eye to eye. To know that you failed your child was something a parent would never want to hear. His own daughter resented him and it was a heartache beyond repair. 

“You think you make parenting any easier for me?” 

“Then I wish you never took me in!” 

It was such a thoughtless thing to do; to utter words that you know will only harm you more than they would ever heal - but it was there, finally out of your system; a though that lingered for as long as you can remember. Why take me in? Why raise a kid you wouldn't be able to care for?

You only wished that words could be undone but neither of you knew when to bite one's tongue back.

“Yeah?” He challenged, letting out a mocking snicker. “I really wish I didn’t– is that what you want me to say? Then go ahead and leave. Find a new family, see if they won’t find you any less difficult.”

And that was the final blow– the push you needed to leave. You looked at him in disbelief, vision blurry with tears. You shoved the bag right to his chest, forgetting it momentarily amidst the shouting session you just had with your father; the one you desperately wanted to present to him. With nothing else to say, you stormed off, leaving him behind. 

Oh Eywa, there is nothing else as undoing as being an eldest daughter. 

believe me, i've been trying to post this since 7 am and it's already a quarter 'til 9. tumblr has got to b fucking w me bec i just ran through at least 4 problems trying to get this on my account

anyway, hellaur. i know this is a bit overdue, but i had to make adjustments because i just had to get everyone's inputs and opinions in! i absolutely LOVE everyone's ideas nd you best believe i am trying to make everything word (also bec of the fact that i am a slow writer, so pls bear w me) hopefully i'm doing the story justice! this part went through a lot of modifications bec i kept feeling unsatisfied (i still am, kinda)

also, i couldn't tag a few people! 'm so sorry, some of the names don't pop up when i type it down ;(

tags: @erm2020quinzeanos @al-lethan @violilaqrs @sparklyphantom @iwanttohitmyself @planetslove @teyamsjustsleeping @sully-stick-together @grandgreengrapes @erensbbg @queen-dk @loaklvr @theyoungeagle @ducks118 @teyyyteyyy @yeosxxx @simply-lovely78 @ellabellabus07 @thehoneymushroomhealer @saturdayrj @kingjulian0o9 @hippiezworldz @joemamalackin @random-3455 @zoetrope1997 @cl0esblogg @anxietydrogz @lokisfirstandlastwife @hiddensnow1 @lunyyx @pearlsandcoconuts @blkmystery @marsbars09 @gcldtom @luna-salem @wolflover384 @mushy-mushroom04 @whatthemonsterfuckisthis @eternalidentity @celi-xxmoon @dumb-fawkin-bitch

[smallestapplin]

Heyheyhey I just need to get this idea out here before I forget. Ingo and Emmet (separately) having a crush on someone who doesn't smile or laugh around others because self esteem (they think their smile/laugh is goofy). The twins have known their person to be blank faced and unbreakable, but one day they get to hear them laugh out loud at something their pokemon did. Ingo is blushing so hard he's about to faint, and Emmet is mentally on his knees thanking whatever deity that he got to witness something so profound. I am soft for the train men. -chandelure anon

Chandelure anon coming in clutch after I broke everyone’s hearts.

(I know I woke up at 3pm and it’s 10pm rn, but I’m so tired after all them tears, I might take a fat nap.)

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- he understand the smiling part, it’s almost impossible for him to smile. But laughing? He wants to hear how beautiful your laughter is.

- Ingo has fallen for you, sure he hasn’t confessed yet but he wants you to be comfortable with him.

- He tries every subtle thing he can do to get to you laugh or crack a smile, but nothing seems to work. He’s tried puns, dad jokes, long thought out jokes, hell even making a fool of himself, hoping his pain would make you laugh.

- But you never broke from your stoic expression, and just worried over him.

- You were at his house with your Pokémon. Deciding a play date would be nice for the companions.

- You were out back with both parties while he went to get you two a drink. The windows are wide open since it’s such a nice day out.

- And on his way back just as he was about to open the sliding glass doors.

- Your deerling run around excited before it accidentally runs into the sliding glass door.

- Your own loud laughing quickly stops Ingo’s.

- He can see you, your head tossed back and eyes closed, your holding your stomach, snorts breaking through.

- Ingo always drops the drinks. He can feel his face burning, your smile makes his knees weak and your laugh makes him melt.

- He’s in love, he is so in love, he loves you and he can’t even hide it. He is thanking everyone and everything possible for allowing him to see and hear such gorgeous things.

- He wants to live in this moment forever. Your smile and laughter permanently ingrained in his brain.

-

🔳Emmet🔳

- At first Emmet accepted he’d never see you smile. That’s fine! He can smile for the both of you! But you won’t laugh? Even Ingo laughs!

- He isn’t even subtle about it, he’s doing everything in the books to get you to laugh. Ingo gets involved, not by choice.

- Nut shots are always funny! Why aren’t you laughing?

- The more he falls for you the me he wants to hear your laugh and see you smile. He is desperate for it.

- It got to the point that when you told him you don’t out of insecurities he was livid. He wanted to hunt down every last person who made you feel insecure about it and just turn rabid

- You two were at a park, this particular time of day no one was here so all the better. He stood up to walk around a bit and stretch his legs, he was only a few feet away from you.

- You both watched as your small scraggy trying to square up to Emmet’s Garbodor, it’s hits not doing anything to the large trash Pokémon, but Garbodor seems to but be having and it light pushes scraggy, who is knocked over in one light shove.

- For some reason that had you laughing. Your smile broke and your were laughing, leaning back before leaning forward at the simplistic yet hilarious scene that played out before you.

- Emmet stares at you, his mouth agape.

- His heart is pounding, tears are stinging his eyes.

- You’re smiling! You’re laughing! This! This is perfect! He couldn’t resist, he was so filled with emotions!

- Just as you laugh was dying down you squeak.

- Emmet throws himself at you, hugging your so tightly and leaving kisses all over your face.

- “Precious! Darling your laugh is perfect! Melodic! Your smile is brighter than the sun! I love it! I love it all so much!”

- You aren’t getting him off you for a while, he is just so happy.

- Though he accidentally confessed his feelings, tragic.

[satorisa]

Kiss Me: Chapter 3 -  In Which Life is Beautiful

Rating: M

Summary:  " But then it began to rain one day. The power conveniently went out. And, in that moment, briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning, those niggling thoughts no longer seemed so alien."

Alternate Reading: AO3

Usually, this is not what watching Life is Beautiful will lead to but, uh, horny teenagers, am I right?

They frequently napped at his place. After an especially tiring day at school or a productive study session, they would head back to his apartment and collapse onto his bed until one of them came to.

If Satoshi woke up first, he left the bed, readjusting the covers for Risa, before starting on dinner. And if Risa woke up first, she left the bed, readjusting the covers for Satoshi, before washing her face and cooking dinner.

They never overstepped in his bedroom. They danced around each other, taking whatever they could get during those brief moments of consciousness before the fatigue from their everyday lives lulled them to sleep. Any kiss or touch that toed the boundary often went unchallenged with a flimsy excuse about lack of energy (to do it and/or clean up before and after it) or lack of condoms (because Satoshi didn’t have a whole box of them in drawer of his nightstand and Risa didn’t have a handful of condoms she carried around in the pouch for her pads and tampons), so they relegated the bedroom simply as the place to make out and sleep in.

However, Risa had chanced upon the perfect opportunity to change that. For one weekend, the stars aligned in her favor: her parents were going to be out of town for a business trip and Riku had a lacrosse meet in Tokyo that would keep her away for the weekend, so Risa had no obligation to come home by her midnight curfew.

And so, after the final bell rang on her Friday of freedom, she dragged Satoshi home with her to grab her weekend bag.

…

“What the hell did you pack in here?” Satoshi grumbled once they arrived at his foyer.

After Risa kicked off her shoes and put them into their designated space on Satoshi’s shoe rack, she took the large tote from him before skipping off to his bedroom while humming a tune. She disappeared from his line of sight as he slipped his shoes off, rotating his shoulder to alleviate the tension from carrying her things before heaving a sigh.

“My stuff!” she yelled from the room. “Most of it is my skincare, though.”

“You don’t need it. You’re pretty enough.”

Her dulcet laugh echoed through his apartment, and a smile tugged at the corner of Satoshi’s mouth. “I’m only pretty because of it, dear.”

The term of endearment clung to him like a mote of dust basking in the glow of the sunset. He started to hum a tune, low and shaky, while he went around his kitchen to pour some water for him and Risa. And when he finished, he saw her head poking out from the threshold of his room with a grin that eclipsed her face.

Only then did he realize that she heard him.

“Aw, how cute!”

He looked away, feeling his face heat up from her attention.

“No need to stop humming for my sake,” she sing-songed before disappearing from his field of vision.

“It was embarrassing.”

“Nope. I found it quite lovely.”

Another word clung to him.

…

They spent the rest of that evening cuddling while watching movies. Satoshi ordered Italian food for delivery, and so they ate pasta while watching a classic Italian movie that Takeshi, their resident movie buff, highly recommended.

And they ended that movie splitting a cannoli with Satoshi tearing up and Risa livid.

“He died!?” she screamed, stabbing her fork into the dessert.

“Well, it did take place—”

“I thought this was a romantic comedy!” she shrieked.

“Well…”

“I’m killing Takeshi on Monday as payback for the emotional anguish I’m experiencing right now.”

Satoshi laughed as two beads of tears rolled down his face. Risa wiped them away with her finger, admiring the contours of his face the light from the television highlighted in the dark room before pulling away and glancing at the screen. The credits rolled, and Risa grabbed the remote to look for another movie.

“So, do you still want to watch another movie? You’re not tired yet?”

“Risa.”

“Mhm?”

“Risa, look at me.”

She turned to face Satoshi. “Hm? Something wrong?”

He cupped her face with his hands and leaned in, leaving a kiss as light as gossamer on her lips before pulling away a bit. She rested her hands on his, but she could only respond in confusion.

“Are you okay? Did this—”

“I love you.”

She blinked. Risa knew the appropriate response to this was to respond with those same words. She felt the same way, but she didn’t know how or why this movie elicited such a response from Satoshi. It wasn’t a romantic movie, for the most part, and more of a comedy than a tear-jerker and yet—oh.

Oh.

The pieces fell into place in her mind. She thought the association was, perhaps, too exaggerated, but who was she to say? She wasn’t Satoshi.

Risa tightened her grip on his hands again, as a sheepish smile graced her face.

“I love you, too.”

A fuzzy warmth settled inside her. She never imagined that their rainy day “mistake” would lead to this, yet there they were, experiencing the impossible becoming possible.

All she could do was admire the profile of his face, highlighted by the television screen in the darkness. Even in the meager lighting, she could see how much her loved her: in the tenderness in his eyes, the softness in his expression. And, in that moment, he was hers.

Her mouth went slightly agape.

And Satoshi took this opportunity to seize her lips.

His caution disappeared as he continued to kiss her. She mewled when he nibbled her bottom lip. She moaned when he deepened their kiss, feeling his tongue with hers.

Only when she could no longer breathe did she pull away, her nose still touching his. Risa felt his warm breath on her while she gasped for air. They’d done this so many times before, but it had always left her breathless.

And yet, somehow, they still haven’t gotten any further than this.

“…let’s do it.”

Her eyes fluttered open from their haze and meet his: icy-blue to her hazel amber.

Satoshi was serious.

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“…okay. Okay.”

His lips crashed onto her as his arms snaked around her, pulling her into a tight embrace while her hands found their way behind his neck, grasping onto his hair. She couldn’t follow their combined movement aside from the feeling of his lips on hers as their hands roamed free, grasping onto anything they could.

Risa felt his embrace tighten while she wrapped her legs around his torso. She could feel him underneath her, wanting, yearning, when—

“Eek!”

She pulled away from him when he picked her up. Risa strengthened the grip of her arms around his neck as she dug her head into the nape of his neck, unsettled at the lack of any surface underneath her. Satoshi chuckled, nuzzling her head with his nose.

“Don’t tell me you wanted your first time with me to be on my couch,” he teased.

His low voice rumbled in her ear, tickling the back of her neck. She squealed.

“Well, no, but you should’ve told me you were going to pick me up!”

“That’s usually not how this works, dear.”

Any leftover fear and hesitation she had about having sex with Satoshi disappeared. She wanted him to hurry up and bring her to the bed so they could continue, so desperate to finally have him inside of her.

Her gingerly placed her on the bed before kissing her again. They pulled away long enough just to remove their clothes before their lips met again. Her hands were in his hair, his hands were grabbing onto any part of her that he could, trying to control his strength so he wouldn’t end up bruising her.

Satoshi unclasped her bra easily before bringing her nipple to his mouth. He licked and sucked as Risa moaned and squealed and—fuck.

One of his hands trailed down, gingerly slipping off her underwear, while his fingers teased her dripping wet entrance. His index finger slipped in, feeling her clamp around him while she tried to suppress a shrill scream, and it took every ounce of self-control not to immediately pounce on her.

God, why did it take them so long to do this?

…

“How did you learn how to do that?” Risa asked, sitting on his toilet with her naked body wrapped around in only a bath towel.

Satoshi cleared his throat before washing his hands, trying to focus on anything but the image of the curves of her body seared into his mind. Hopefully, the water would wash those thoughts, in addition to the mess they had made.

“Hello? Hikari-san?” she asked. “You in there?” A smirk erupted from her gentle inquisition. “Oh, don’t tell me—”

He turned his sink off. “You don’t want to know.”

“Come on! There’s no way that someone like you would’ve known about foreplay before we began!” she pouted.

“Then let me ask you that same question.”

She laughed, awfully blasé about such a topic. “Riku-chan and I got curious about it growing up, as most burgeoning young woman do. And I heard stories of what she and Daisuke-kun have done.”

“Do not divulge those stories.”

Another light, dulcet laugh followed him as he returned to his bed. He lied down on the left, the side the actually sleeps on that was closer to the window, when Risa plopped down next to him. She cuddled into his side, somehow fitting perfectly there, before looking up at him. He tried his best not to ogle at the cleavage peeking through the loosening bath towel but, alas, Satoshi was but a mere, mortal man.

“So? It’s only fair that you tell me after I shared.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“What? That you’re actually a secret erotica fan?”

It was Satoshi’s turn to smirk. “Takeshi.”

The lazy expression on her face tightened. Her eyes widened as she sat up, strands of hair falling out of place. She immediately fixed the towel threatening to slip off before scooting away.

“Disgusting.”

“He’d show Daisuke and I videos—”

“Nope! No! I don’t want to—Daisuke-kun?! Oh god, ew, no, why did you tell me?!”

“Well someone wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.”

She threw a pillow into his face before storming off, slamming the bathroom door behind her. As he slid the pillow off his face, he couldn’t stop the grin threatening his lips.

God, was he in love with her.

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Dream SMP Members Hearing You’re Dead

Pronouns: They/Them

A headcanon

___________

C! Dreamwastaken 

-Dream would be in prison when he found out

-He could tell something was off

-You visited him all the time

-So why had it been so long since he last saw you?

-Sap Nap would end up visiting him

-"I don't know how to tell you this... Y/n was murdered..."

-It'd take him a moment to process it

-Sap Nap would ask if Dream's alright

-Dream would just nod and get a bit quiet

-As soon as Sap Nap's gone, Dream would shed a few tears

-He'd spend a LONG time mourning

-He'd think about all the things he would've done differently if he knew that was the last time he'd see you

-Dream would write letters to you

-Clock burning would become 10x more common

-Just so he could BEG Sam to let him out for one day

-Just so he could visit your grave

-Sap Nap would bring him photos of your grave to show him how nice everyone set it up

C! Georgenotfound 

-George is surprised

-He has no clue what to say

-As soon as he receives the news he just gets quiet

-Really quiet

-He spends a long time thinking about you

-He doesn't cry over your death

-George would feel a bit guilty for not crying, but he couldn't help it

-He'd push his friends away for quite some time

-He just needed time alone

-You would be on his mind a lot

C! Sap Nap 

-Two words: He's angry

-As soon as he's heard someone has hurt you, he's livid

-Let's get one thing straight: Sap Nap will FIGHT for you

-He'd want to find your murderer as soon as possible

-Just so he could beat the shit out of them

-His blood is boiling

-He'll take all his anger out on beating the person who hurt you

-"How could you?"

-"How could you kill them?"

"Why Y/n? Why them?"

-When he didn't receive an answer, he was 10 times more upset

-As soon as the fight was over, he'd go home

-And start sobbing

-Because he realized he had lost you

C! Technoblade 

-Techno would be VERY quiet

-It'd take him a second to reply

-"Alright."

-There were so many thoughts in his head

-"Who did it?"

-"What?"

-"Who killed Y/n?"

-Whoever killed you better pray now, Techno would have no mercy towards them

-As soon as he has a name, he's preparing for battle

-An eye for an eye after all

-After avenging you, Techno would take a moment to mourn

-because it would finally hit him

-He'll never see you again

C! Wilbur Soot 

-At first, he doesn't believe your dead

-For a couple of days he ignores it

-But when he realizes you don't come around to talk or just hang out, it finally clicks for him

-You were actually dead

-He doesn't cry

-he doesn't get mad

-he pushes his emotions down and ignores it

-Tommy would try and get Wilbur to talk about it, he knew something was up

-Wilbur wouldn't crack, he would just briefly explain he's fine

-But Tommy wouldn't give up, he'd continue to try and get Wilbur to open up

-Tommy could tell something was wrong

-Eventually, Wilbur would snap at Tommy, raising his voice

-"Tommy! I am fine! I get it! Y/n's dead! They're not coming back, leave it at that! That's all I ask of you!"

-After that, Tommy drops the topic of Y/n

-Your death would just push Wilbur further into madness

-You were his anchor

-Now what?

C! Quackity 

-At first, he thinks it's some kind of cruel joke

-"Haha, funny joke."

-He'll push 'the joke' to the back of his mind and continue on with his day

-But within hours he would realize it's true

-He'd realize you were actually dead when he saw his friends preparing your grave

-It would hit him hard to see your name on the tombstone

-He wouldn't let anyone see how upset he was

-he'd just try to stay happy and keep making jokes

-But late at night, he'd be fighting back tears

-Happy when the sun's out

-But alone and heartbroken when the moon is in the sky

C! Karl Jacobs 

-"...What?"

-His heart would shatter

-As soon as he receives the news, he needs a moment alone

-He can't help but cry

-You were his best friend

-You were his world

-Karl would talk to himself

-"Oh god, I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm so so sorry."

-All the sweet memories of you rush through his head

-But then it finally hits him

-he can save you

-Karl would track down whoever told him about your death, he'd need more details

-What exact time?

-Where?

-Who?

-He was going to bring you back, no matter what.

C! Nihachu

-Niki will immediately burst into tears

-She didn't know what to say

-It just seemed impossible that you were dead

-Niki would spend a long time mourning you

-You'd constantly be on her mind

-She'd bring you up in conversation at random moments

-"Y/n would've wanted to see this."

-Whatever you left at her house, she's keeping

-Whenever she can't sleep, she'll wear one of your old hoodies or t-shirts

-She's scared of washing your old clothes because she doesn't want to lose the scent of you

C! Schlatt 

-Shuts his emotions off right away

-He refuses to show any signs that's he's upset

-He thinks it's a weakness to show he's sad

-Schlatt will bury himself into work, doing whatever republican presidents do

-He'll end up drinking a bit more than usual

-At night when he's alone, he'll visit your grave

-He'll stand there by your side for a long time, just talking

-Schlatt would tell you about his day and everything going on

-"But what about you, Y/n? How's it been?"

-The silence would hurt

C! Awesamdude 

-Just like Schlatt, Sam will bury himself in work

-While guarding the prison, he'll act ten times more like a hardass

-You'll always be on his mind

-Sam would definitely have a speech at your funeral

-It would take a couple of months for him to finishing mourning your death

-Sam would have to tell Dream about your passing

-He'd shed only a few tears, but not too many

-It would be hard to be happy again

C! Bad Boy Halo 

-BBH would be heartbroken

-He'd spend a day or two just crying over losing you

-Skeppy would be there to comfort him

-He would make sure your grave is located somewhere safe and peaceful

-He'd be really emotional at your funeral

-BBH would have to excuse himself from the service

-(He was crying too much)

-Everyday BBH replaces the flowers at your grave and tells you about what everyone's up to

C! Punz

-He shuts down

-Punz would end up isolating himself for a couple of days

-He just didn't want to face the fact you were actually dead

-It'd all go away if he ignored it, right?

-Punz would end up skipping your funeral

-He couldn't bring himself to see you get buried

-He'd end up feeling guilty for missing your funeral

-In the middle of the night, Punz would come to your grave to talk to you

-He'd apologize for missing your funeral

-It would become a normal thing for him to visit you in the middle of the night

-This would become something therapeutic to him

-Just being able to talk to you

-Punz would also steal one of your old bracelets when cleaning out your house

-He'll wear it until the day he dies

-If someone tries to take the bracelet from him, he goes feral

-If he loses the bracelet, he practically has a panic attack

-He'll destroy everything while looking for your old bracelet

Taglist: @ivory-raptor @snowcones404 @golden-hoax @notphilosopherstudentblog

[worminstuff]

The Balcony of the Treehouse Pt.6

sleepy bois x reader au

no warnings:)

also merry christmas:)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Is that good or bad” Y/n asked Techno, her gaze soft.

“I'm not sure. He was really cool but..” Techno shrugged his shoulders.

It was currently the next day, and Y/n was accompanying Techno in the treehouse. They were currently discussing Techno’s new friend as of yesterday, Bo. Sam's older son.

Apparently Bo was sorta like Techno in some ways. They were both pretty shy at first but then found some common interest, and became rather comfortable pretty fast. Bo even let Techno ramble about Y/n for a bit and also said he would totally wanna meet her too.

“He's just not me.” Y/n grinned cockily and Techno pushed her shoulder.

“Right.” he rolled his eyes. “How was it with the other boys?”

“It was alright. Surprisingly very chill. I guess Tommy and Tubbo had really tired themselves out in the morning beforehand.” she shrugged. She was telling the truth, they slept for quite a while and were only awake for about an hour before everyone else got back.

“What about Will?” Techno wondered how she handled being around him while he was still..angsty.

Y/n shrugged again. She didn't really want to tell him about the kitchen and how they talked for the whole tiny Tommy and Tubbo napped. Or the cigarettes.

She couldn't stop thinking about how she was sitting on the counter and how he seemed so calm and sweet as if nothing happened.

She just had no idea, he was doing it on purpose. Will figures, if he can ignore his protective and jealous feelings, and maybe just try to get a connection with her. He may actually be able to get somewhere. Techno has the higher ground, he spends all his time with her and he has for years. Wilbur's only just started to in the past year and a half or so.

Wilbur doubts Techno actually has genuine feelings for Y/n. He has no way of genuinely knowing. It's just sort of a hunch. Or a hope maybe.

“He actually asked if i wanted to go to that bonfire thing with him..” her voice was almost a mumble. Just after she said she thought it would be fun, Wilbur explained the next evening they were going down to the beach to have a bonfire and hangout and chill. He said they do it often and it's always really fun.

Techno looked at her, slightly surprised. She wanted to hangout with Wilbur? No way.

“And you said..no..right?” his brows furrowed.

“Well..wait why would I say no?” she looked at him. Her brows furrowed also.

“Well obviously..I- he- what?” Techno shook his head.

“What do you mean what? Why would I have said no? It sounds fun.” she crossed her arms.

Techno stared at her for a moment. He slid a bit forward, so he was a bit closer. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. Y/n stared back questioningly.

“Odds.” he stated, staring right into her eyes.

“Techno!” Y/n pushed his leg a bit, and looked away, slightly mad. “What the hell?!”

Odds was something they created when they were young, similar to the game odds, it ends with saying a number between certain odds to help decide something.except that's usually for something like a dare. In this case, they used it in sort of flip of a coin situations, but only when one of them thought it was really really important. And the person that calls odds, gets to pick the odds, ex. 1 through 5 or 1 through 10 etc. they did this so they didn't argue about situations sorta like this.

“If you say the same number as me, 1 through 4, you stay. If not, you can go. odds on your side.” he had 0 emotion to his features.

“That's not fair!” she frowned.

“It is though. I called it.” he shrugged, almost smiling. Almost.

Y/n huffed. “Fine.”

Techno counted them down and on the count of three,

“Two.” they spoke at the same time.

“Fuck!” Y/n hit his knee as Techno grinned. Crisis averted. Or so he thought.

Techno grinned as she huffed and crossed her arms with a pout, shooting daggers with her eyes.

“Hey, it's not that bad! Now I can read you that book you got me.” Techno had a happy little grin on his face.

“Oh no, i'm definitely going.” Y/n said. His smile disappeared instantly.

“What? But- but odds?” his shoulders sank. Y/n alone with will in a car, and then alone with him and his friends, at a bonfire. There would be beer and shit everywhere! He just wanted her with him, safe away from Wilbur's scummy friends.

“I told Will I would! I can't go back on that. That's so rude.” she looked at him with puppy eyes.

Techno glared slightly, looked away, then looked back. She knew the eyes work, he acts all tough but he's too soft for it not to work.

“Okay. but i want you back here, when it's over. Not your house, not inside our house. Treehouse.” he pointed to the floor.

“And then normal sleepover?” Y/n smiled a little.

Techno's face softened as he saw her smile. He tried not to match her smile while shaking his head a little.

“Sure.”

^^^^^^^^^^

“Who's going this time?” Phil asked Wilbur.

It was around 5 or 5:30 and everyone was sat around the dining room table having dinner like they always do. Phil was currently discussing the bonfire with Wilbur, because he wanted to make a guesstimate in his head for how long Will would be gone using context clues. Because Will was never really home by the times he says he will.

“The usual group” Wilbur pointed his fork at his plate. “Oh! And Y/n”

Wilbur looked to her with a grin. Phil, for a lack of better words, looked as if one of his kids just had a pregnancy scare.

“Sorry, “ Phil shook his head slightly, “say that again?”

“Or don't.” Techno mumbled, Y/n jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“I'm going along! I haven't done anything fun lately so Wilbur offered to let me tag along. It'll be fun.”Y/n shrugged.

Wilbur was beaming, Techno was silently livid, and Phil was looking in between the two very nervously.

The reason Techno was so genuinely angry was because Wilbur looked so smug when they sat down at the table. His grin was from ear to ear and he was excited to talk to Y/n about when she wanted to go and if she needed anything from her house, and the entire time Techno sat and felt his anger levels rise. His ears were hot, his shoulders tense and not a smile in sight.

He wanted to smack the smirk of his brother's face to be frank.

Techno knew what was going to happen. She was going to go with him, and have an amazing time. Great, right? Wrong. Clear to Techno, this was some evil master plan. Wilbur was going to give her more friends she would only go see with him. So when she wanted to spend time with these new people she had to also see him. And obviously at first she'll be all she so he gets to confront her and break her out of her shell. Techno knows how social Y/n can be, and she loves meeting new people! He hated to say it, but his brother was a genius.

Techno's fingers were starting to tremble.

What if she did like them? And wanted to see them more? What if they're cooler than him and what if they do drugs? Y/n wouldn't do drugs..would she?

His breath was slowly starting to catch up on him. He excused himself quickly and made his way off to the bathroom.

The crisp sound of the door creaking filled his ears as his back slid against it till he was on the floor.

His mind was running rampant.

How well does he really know Y/n? What could she possibly want with a bonfire when she has him and the treehouse? Is he not enough for her? Should he try to make more friends?

What was wrong with him?

He clutched his leg as he silently shook and took tiny shallow breaths.

Soon enough, just as he was starting to be able to allow more air into his lungs there was a soft knock on the door.

“Techno?..” Phil's voice was soft on the other side of the door.

Techno sniffled as he stood, he brushed himself off, and took a deep breath pushing all emotion from his features. He reached over and flushed the toilet a few feet in front of him, then he ran the sink for a moment before opening the door with one hand wiping on his leg.

“Hm?” he raised his brows.

Phil stared at him, analyzing his face fully. He looked fine, sort of. He looks normal to anyone who isn't his father per say. Phil could see behind his cold eyes he had been crying. No matter how much he pushed his emotions down, he couldn't push away the puffy eye bags or the glossy sheen, though they were actually very subtle.

A simple arm was raised and Techno immediately fell into him, deadweight in his arms. Phil held him tightly, silently. He pressed his cheek onto Techno's head, brushing down the unruly tangles in his hair.

There were no words spoken, they stood silently. Phil knew Techno wasn't going to tell him anything so he did not bear to try.

A little bit of time passed, and they broke apart to make their way back when Phil leaned over,

“Laugh with me like we said something funny. Trust me.”

Techno stared at him for a moment, and then giggled softly. Phil joined him and their laughs were terribly fake which caused more laughter and soon it became real laughter as they were walking into the dining room.

Y/n was staring at a babbling Tommy, while Wilbur was on his phone. Y/n immediately looked to Techno once he was in the room, a worried look on her eyes that disappeared as she saw his face. She was worried for nothing.

Phil patted Techno's back softly as they both picked up their plates to clean them, Tommy following suit with his father and older brother. Will and Y/n stood to do the same.

“Alright dad, think we're gonna head off.” Wilbur said, his grin authentic.

Phil nodded, “Right, don't forget to send me a ping when you get there and on your way home.” he pointed a winger between the pair, both nodded.

Techno stared aimlessly as he watched his girl walk out the door with his brother.

He hoped she was going to have fun.

As soon as both doors to the front seats of Will's car closed, Wilbur looked at her excitedly.

He turned the car on and pulled from the driveway, “Are we excited?”

“You can say that.” her smile was small.

“Don't be nervous, you're gonna love them and they're gonna love you. It's gonna be great.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, he read her so easily. He looked so giddy. Was it because of her? She didn't want to get cocky but she'd never seen him this excited to see his friends before.

Wilbur's mind was running wild, he was alone with her for once, and then she got to hangout with his people. He even had a small surprise for her that he was even more excited for.

Y/n was progressively getting more and more nervous as they drove silently. She was starting to overthink. As she listened to her thoughts quietly, she failed to notice her leg start to bounce.

Will placed a gentle hand on her knee, “None of that. Nothing to be worried over. I wouldn't have asked you to come if i didn't know for a fact they'd like you.” his eyes broke away from the road momentarily. Y/n nodded. She trusted him.

Soon the smell of saltwater filled the car. Y/n took a quiet deep breath. Letting it fill her lungs. She slowly calmed herself, trying not to think of the hand on her knee, it would only fuel her nervous fire.

Y/n felt strange being here without Techno. It felt wrong. She rarely ever goes anywhere he isn't. He's practically glued to her 85% of the time.

Which was why when she was first meeting Wilbur's “crew”, she felt like a fish out of water.

Even with Wilbur's comforting hand holding hers, she felt stiff and awkward. They were all intimidating, the dudes were tall and confident and the girls were all gorgeous and sweet. Confident too.

She did notice, one of the boys seemed much more approachable. He stood at the back of the group while introductions were going around, she learned his name was Eret and he was one of Wilbur's newer friends but he was really cool.

Wilbur beamed at Y/n as he told her about his friends, his hand was still gentle and it made her smile.

Wilbur was happy she was getting a bit comfortable.

Once they felt everyone had been thoroughly introduced, they all started placing blankets on the sand around the large fire they'd made before Will and her had arrived.

Wilbur set down a blanket he brought and motioned for her to sit with him. When she sat down, he leaned over to speak into her ear, “See, nothing to worry about, yeah?”

He leaned away, showing her a grin. She smiled and shook her head at his silly little grin.

This was really fun.

She loved hearing these kids talk, there was even one girl like her whose parents were also never home. She liked her. The girl even offered that they go drive around some time! When she said that, Y/n of course nodded eagerly.

Wilbur, well he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He loved seeing her like this, it was like she was in her element. Meeting new people and making connections. It's a shame Techno has hogged her from people for so long. He resented him for that. To be fair, it's been like that since they've met. Wilbur saw her all the time, but only in brief interactions up until highschool.

She was so sweet, excited to talk to all of them even though he knew she was nervous, and Wilbur knew his friends loved her already. How could they not?

Wilbur was about to try to get her to talk to him for a little, seeing as how they'd been there for almost 45 minutes already and had barely spoken to him, but he was taped on the shoulder as a signal there was about to be a cigarette break out in the parking lot.

Wilbur stood, and leaned down to Y/n whispering to her where he was going. Just before he was about to go, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes were wide.

“Look a bit..surprised there?” it was Eret, he sat down on the blanket next to Y/n just after seeing Will was about to go for a butt. He didn't want Y/n to sit all alone.

“I um..no yeah he just..its nothing.” Y/n laughed at her own lack of words, and Eret did too.

“I take it you two aren't official or anything?” his voice was low, and almost gravely but it was still so comforting.

Y/n knew he didn't mean it as if he were trying to make a move on her, he sounded genuinely curious.

“No it's..complicated. Very complicated.” Y/n stared at the fire.

“If I'm not prying, how so? You both seem..really..content together.” he looked from her to the fire.

“I..well his brother is my..best friend and he..”

“He..?” Eret leaned in a little.

“Well i don't know what he is to me really.” she looked at him, her face in question at her own realization.

“Well I know for a fact, he's infatuated with you.”

Y/ns eyes were wide again, “what?”

“Oh he's always going on about you.” Eret had a cheeky grin, almost like Will’s she thought, “He's been talking about you meeting all of us since he asked you yesterday. Not to mention he’s..” Eret stopped himself. He got carried away in his little ramble.

“He's what?” Y/n was confused why he stopped himself.

“No no, I really shouldn't have said anything.” he waved his hand as if he were brushing away his words.

Y/n groaned and threw her head back, “You can't do that!”

Eret laughed, “I'm sorry!”

“Tell me please.” she looked at him with pleading eyes.

Eret stared at her for a moment and sighed. “He's in love with you. But i don't know if you know that or not..so..” she did not. “I think I'm the only one hes told, but he was so...I don't know how to explain it. When he told me he sounded like he was pouring his heart out.” Eret’s eyes were on the fire.

He was in love with her?

Y/ns heart ached. No wonder he was so...hurt. It was her fault too.

As if on cue, (this boy was terribly good with timing) she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder as it slid around her shoulders. Will pulled her to his chest as he sat behind her. He smelled of smoke, but it was comforting. Before she thought about it, or what they were doing, she leaned back into him. The rest of the group took back their seats and conversion rose again.

Y/n an Wilbur sat listening quietly until she heard Will's voice in her ear.

“Chatting it up with Eret while I was gone?” his arm was still across her chest, his hand on her shoulder.

“I was, he's really nice.” she turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled at her in the dim light of the fire. She smiled back and nodded.

Wilbur stared at her a moment, “How about..we get out of here, and I show you another pretty place?” he was still smiling, but his eyes were nervous for a response.

“Sure. Sounds fun.” she gave him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was quick to get up. Telling the group they were heading off, a little too excitedly.

Before Wilbur could pull her away, she quickly got all of the girls numbers and was even added to a group chat. She was beaming once they reached the car.

“And she even told me that i could go and hangout when they went to her house! Isn't that so sweet.” she looked at Will towards the end of her sentence to see he was already staring at her, his hand on the wheel in front of him.

His lip was in between his teeth, “Mhm. I knew you'd get along swimmingly with them.”

Y/n giggled.

“So where are we going?” she smiled to herself as Wilbur put his hand on her knee.

“Not saying, but, it's not far at all. We're practically there.” he was exaggerating, but the ride wasn't long at all.

Even though he wasn't, Wilbur felt as if he was driving slow. He felt like time was still, and he was glad. He wanted this to last as long as it could.

Y/n would have never expected what she saw, she was expecting a pretty clif with a view, or something like that.

He brought her to a flower field.

He parked the car on the side of the road towards the middle of the field.

Once they'd both stepped out, Wilbur went to her side.

“Up you go, turn around.” he motioned up at the top of his car. Y/n stared at him for a moment before turning around and letting him hoist her up so she could climb on top of the car. He climbed up after her and sat beside her.

For a little while, Y/n stared at the way the moonlight was casting a blue white onto the field and all the flowers. Wilbur stared at her. They sat this way for a little while but Y/n was the first to break the silence.

“A little birdy..told me something interesting.” she looked at him.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“Is it hard?” Y/n was staring at the moon, her hand was picking at the seam of her jeans.

“Is what hard?” Wilbur stared at her feet as they swung back and forth.

“..being in love with me.” she looked up at him, her eyes starry.

“Maybe. But it doesn't have to be.”

[its-me-im-coraline]

Drive // Damiano David // Playlist fics

words // 1016

warnings // kind of angsty feelings but mostly caring!damiano sooo yeah

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. song is drive by ashton irwin. Also I changed the plot that I originally thought of because 1. i forgot my original plot lol and 2. i read the lyrics to the song and apparently I had heard some words wrong so it sparked a new, fluffier scenario

for some reason i only realized i didn't put any tags on it over a week later

request // nope

summary // Reader's partner breaks up with them letting some harsh words before leaving. Damiano is there to hear where it hurts most and pick his friend back up. Only thing is he is in love with them.

Y/N was still hurting. The tears were still fresh and the thoughts never wondering from the leaving man. They still heard the voicemails he left in the past, the same ones that he’s say how much he loved them, how amazing and important they were. They were all but a painful lullaby now, one that would put Y/N to sleep but not before sobbing their eyes out in attempt to heal the pain.

Damiano could sense his best friend’s pain, but even if he had a hard time deciphering people’s emotions, Y/N’s state was a tell all of their inner world. They were hurting, excessively, words still ringing in their head like a bell. Maybe I never loved you. Damiano would not waste any time comforting his friend, drying their tears, holding them close, letting them know that he understood how unfair it was, never forgetting to remind them of their worth. Y/N never spoke, though. They kept everything in, simply taking in Damiano’s care, afraid to speak to him about it.

It had been days in that never changing state. A constant cycle of wake up, cry, sleep and all over again the next day. They refused to eat, refuse to get out the room unless it was utterly necessary… Damiano could not take it anymore. He did not want to push them but they had to break that pattern they found themselves in. “Get up, we’re going out,” he said walking into their room, placing a sweatshirt of his along with some of their shorts on the bed - noting how although it was summer the breeze would make them feel cold, and he couldn’t have that happening.

“Go take a shower, get dressed and I’ll be waiting for you,” he said already starting to work on de-cluttering their little depression room.

The clock read 22.32, it was late, all too late to even attempt to get up. “What’s gotten into you, Dami? What are you doing - hey leave that where it was! What are you doing?”

The man took a deep breath, sitting himself on the crumbled up bedsheets, hand on his friend’s leg. “Listen, amore. I know how much he hurt you, I know, but you can’t stay like this forever,” he paused taking in their state. Eyes red from crying and puffy, their lips swollen from the frequent naps - oh how he wanted to kiss them right now - no no no, Damiano, you can’t be thinking that.

“Let’s go get some take out, drive around downtown… We don’t even have to talk, we can just play music. But please, get up.” He was pleading, just like his heart. He could not bare the person he so dearly loved, even if they did not know it, to hurt like that, to close off and hide away from him. It should have never been an option in his mind.

Y/N whispered a soft ok before vacating the bed. Damiano was already on his feet, placing the clothes on the bathroom counter, helping his love with anything they needed before their shower, and then walking back into the room, making it look less overwhelming and more ‘secure’, sitting on the bed after he finished waiting patiently.

It did not take long for Y/N to be done with getting ready, already feeling slightly better. “Thank you,” they breathed out, hugging Damiano close. He plainly chuckled, hands rubbing their back and lips on their temple, leaving small kisses. I love you, “You’re welcome.”

Getting into the car and getting their food was the easiest task out of everything so far, but the man needed to know what was troubling the person in front of him, so he asked. “Amore,” it came out as almost a whisper, a soft breath of words, “do you maybe want to tell me what happened that night? I know you said he left, but I know you! It’s not that, that is eating you inside out. What did he say?”

The hesitation in Y/N’s face was evident, a long breath being taken in before any words had the chance to. “He -uhm- he said he never loved me,” they let out, without thinking about it too much, knowing that if they did, they’d never say it.

His face fell, and so did his heart. How could someone say those words to anyone, but especially to someone like them. They were literally the light of his life and it seemed like such a paradox for someone to not love them. The man had become livid, ready to break the ex’s face, but when he saw the tears in Y/N’s face, he calmed down.

“He never loved me, Dami, never. Oh, god, no one ever will! What if he’s the representation of everyone’s thoughts about me?! Oh my-”

“Hey stop that! Stop trusting the words or a piece of shit like him,” he spat out as if venom. “He is crazy to feel like that and he is crazy to say it. Y/N, you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” He could not believe he was doing it in that moment. Maybe it was wrong, maybe he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t keep himself back.

“You don’t understand Damiano… Maybe he was put into my life so i can learn that I’m unlovable. It feels like I am, and man does it hurt,” they quieted down, looking out the car window for a second before being unable to control the upcoming sob, “it hurts, Dami, it really hurts.”

These words pierced through his chest like a dagger dipped in his anger. Not much was able to be done until the man simply pulled his friend in his arms. “That’s bullshit!”

A sharp silence followed these words, both friends unsure of what to do.

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t want to act like saint - hell I’m far from that - but… I can help, ok? I can show you how wrong those horrible thoughts and that horrible man are. Just,, put some faith in me.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

playlist tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

[xpeachesncream]

Hi! A drabble idea i have for perfectly wrongnis that in an alternative universe where y/n ends up with jk and tae is jealous so he goes after her, you can decide the ending 😙👉👈

perfectly wrong | drabble [8]: who said you didn’t want jeon jungkook the way he wanted you?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cussing, jealousy, almost had a taehyung v. jungkook round 2, alcohol consumption, block party scene, slight angst?

note: (this takes place after chapter 12) HOHHHKAY, ANON! I SEE YOU! I LOVE THE SWITCH UP HERE! we are in this thangythang 🤪 gotta show our other baby some love, right? this also ended up being a lot longer than planned so i’m sorry lol i just didn’t know how to end it properly. enjoy!

Enough time had passed and you were tired. You were tired and you were over this shit. Hell to the no you were not gonna let this man keep on walking all over you. This was not you.

You picked yourself up and dusted off your shoulders.

You've deleted Taehyung's number for good. Tossed out all those memories, the need, the want for him. You pushed aside longing for that familiar feeling. You were done and Taehyung fucking hates it. If he wasn't mad before, he's livid now. He hates losing. And he knows after the shit he pulled at Jin's party with Aiko and the way he disrespected you, he lost you fair and square. He noticed how well you were doing even after the whole incident - clinging onto Jungkook and the public PDA, doing all the flirty, cute couple shit. It drives him crazy that it can't be him, and he knows he's to blame for his stupid antics and messy attitude. He truly can't say he regrets throwing fists at Jungkook. Somehow, Taehyung knew he was always going to lose this battle in the end. It was only a matter of time.

"Wakey wakey to my favorite couple!" Yoongi yelled, repeatedly opening and closing Jungkook's door before he finally had the nerve to jump on top of you two snuggled under his sheets. "Block party time!"

"Get the fuck off." You mumbled near the crook of Jungkook's neck, causing him to slightly chuckle as he tried to wake himself up. Yoongi didn't move, his body weight still fully on top of you two, so you did what you had to do and kicked him off.

"Aish! Agh, ow!" He laughed as he fell onto the floor, grabbing his shin. Jungkook shot his head up and began to laugh, watching as he dramatically limped out of the room. "Y/N kicked me off the bed." He begins to tell Hobi, in which Hobi faintly replied with a 'serves you right for going into the room like that.'

"Did you really have to do that?" Kook snickered as he booped your nose and watched you stir in your position. Jungkook, surprisingly, had easily welcomed the fact that you've passed the unspoken "bestfriend" boundaries over time and how you opened that door. The title alone is what gave you both those boundaries, but if it were up to him, he would have asked you a long time ago about taking this further. He loved you, he truly did. He always has, but he always respected you before anything else. He just wanted to make sure you were happy first and foremost, whether or not that meant being with him or someone else, so he never pressed it. Instead, he figured he'd let it naturally happen if it was meant to. 

For the most part, you were good and that's all that mattered. You were good even though Taehyung had the nerve to do this shit to you and to call you a meaningless fuck. You were good because you had someone like Jungkook that could make you feel safe and protected. This entire time had you wondering if the person you were really meant to be with was in front of you this whole time. Why were you chasing someone like Taehyung when Jungkook was here? All the shit Jin and your friends had tossed your way, teasing you about your relationship with Kook - maybe it was true. Maybe there was some truth to it. That's why you opened the door to see what the other side was about.

"100%." You sat up to fully wake yourself up from the nap. Kook gets himself out first and heads to the bathroom to get ready. Once it was your turn to get ready, he waited outside in the living room along with Yoongi and Hobi. There was a block party happening downtown, with Yoongi and his friends dj'ing for some part of it. There would be tons of local restaurants, beer, wine and other food trucks in attendance, along with other activities like face painting and temporary tattoo booths, shit you'd pretty much see at a fair.

You'd done a great job avoiding Taehyung and running into him head on, so you were hoping your streak would remain alive tonight. You knew he'd be there. There was no way he wasn’t going to. Taehyung and his friends were always present at any event.

His silence was a curse. Had always been. So if he had anything to say to you now, you didn't wanna hear it.

After sitting in the car, taking swigs of vodka from a water bottle and chasing with White Claws, you all find yourselves walking through the food trucks and booths. The block party is fucking packed from end to end on the street, with You, Jungkook and Hobi trying your hardest to stick together. Yoongi had ran off to the main stage, already starting his set as you three are trying to find a good spot to dance and chill at. Kook is holding your hand, but as soon as you all find a spot you agree with, he's bringing you to the front so you could dance with and on him. Really, it's nothing new to you two, the dynamic not really changing even if you were exploring new heights in your relationship with him. Your friends also really appreciate the dynamic between you, them never really feeling like they're third-wheeling or out of place.

When DJ Yoongi is starting to slow the music down, Jungkook wraps his arms around your neck, singing along and holding you close as you vibe to the beat of Southside by Lloyd and Ashanti. Hobi is standing next to you like Kris Jenner, recording Yoongi during his entire set and trying his hardest not to bounce around too much while recording. All of a sudden, Yoongi's friend hops onto the tables and shit gets turnt really quick. It's almost like a mosh pit, except you and Jungkook were able to make it out and Hobi is somewhere within the crowd trying to find Yoongi on the other end.

"Shit, where's Hobi?" You said while tippytoeing, trying to catch a glimpse of his head in the sea of people.

"He'll be okay, I think? Let's head to the other side and see if we can find him and Yoongi." Jungkook says, intertwining his hands with yours as he leads the way towards the other side. It's a little calmer on this side being that there's a barrier to block off the party from the sidewalk area. You two catch a glimpse of Hobi making his way towards Yoongi next to the stage, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Ah, okay. I see him. Thank god." You say, pushing your back against the wall. You were just worried he would get hurt trying to find his way through.

"Hobi's a big boy." Jungkook chuckles, scrunching his nose. You two observe from the sidelines for a bit, figuring this is probably the safest area to stay at for awhile. "Hey, I'm gonna head to the bathroom, okay? You gonna be alright here?" Jungkook squeezes your hand as he looks down at you.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He smiles toothlessly before planting a quick kiss on your head. You watch as he waddles off to the bathroom, a line starting to form around the corner just to get in like it's some kind of club. You lean your back against the wall, scrolling through your phone to keep yourself busy until he gets back.

"So, that's it, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, though." Taehyung says, coming out of fucking nowhere? He comes closer, nodding towards Jungkook's way. His eyes are piercing through you, and suddenly, every moment you had spent with him flashes in your head.

"Please get the hell away from me."

"Can we just talk for a minute?" Was he serious right now? Out of all fucking places?

"Talk about what, Taehyung?"

"Look, let me just say this. I'm sorry for how things went down at Jin's party. I—" He paused. "I didn't mean the things that I said."

"Then maybe you should learn how to think before you let shit come out of your mouth." You turn behind you to check if Jungkook is coming back anytime soon, but you don't see a sign of him. "I'm really not trying to do this--"

"Maybe next time you shouldn't come at me about toying with emotions." He's furrowing his brows, slight anger peeking through his eyes. He shakes his head before he steps closer to you, his hands dug into his pockets. "Can you really say that you're done with us?" He says softly, his gaze following from your eyes to your lips.

"Us?" You scoff. "There was never an us." You glare at him. "This is done. You said all of this yourself, loud and clear."

"Y/N, I was stupid. I just didn't know how to control my feelings about everything going on." His jaw slightly clenches.

"And that's your problem. You don't know how to control anything. You have things you need to figure out and quite frankly, I'm not trying to be around for it. I'm not waiting for you to get your shit together. I don't fucking deserve to put myself through this after all the mess you've caused, all the shit you've said to me." You shook your head "No."

"It's been Jungkook this whole time, hasn't it?" He scoffs. "You always denied it, but you knew it was always going to be him."

"Don't turn this on me."

"So, what? You think he's gonna do you like I did?" He comes closer, his breath hitting against the side of your neck. "Touch you like I did? Fuck you the way that I did?"

"None of that matters if you can't even pull yourself together and own up to your shit."

"You know this isn't what you want."

"And how do you know what I want, Taehyung? You don't even know what you want for yourself." He glares down at you.

"It's still you."

"Bullshit, you don't disrespect someone and expect them to come back. Not me." Suddenly, you feel Jungkook's hand around your wrist. You turn to see him and Taehyung having a stare off, afraid of what might ensue if you don't get Jungkook to walk away. You were not trying to have a Taehyung v. Jungkook Royal Rumble 2, not with all the cops and security present here.

"Are you serious?" Taehyung laughs. "If he's really the one you want, then whatever. So be it, I guess."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jungkook spits out as you grip his arm tightly.

"Just thought your girl might have second thoughts, that’s all." He smirked slyly while shrugging. The thing with Taehyung is that he knew how to piss of anybody. He just didn’t give a flying fuck.

"Taehyung, stop." You say, getting in the middle. "We don't have shit to discuss anymore, okay? This is done. Get yourself together before you think about fucking over somebody else." You slightly push Jungkook to walk away, his eyes still kept on Taehyung until you've placed enough distance between the two.

"What else did he say to you?"

"Nothing, Kook."

"Y/N."

"He just tried to talk to me about Jin's party and apologize."

"Apologize?" He furrows his forehead.

"Leave it, Jungkook. It's fine, alright?" He sighs heavily.

"Alright." Jungkook doesn't say much for the rest of the night, and so don't you. You both tried your hardest to push it aside and enjoy the rest of the night, but everyone knows the damage Taehyung has done and what that comes with. It's just awkward, and a really uncomfortable vibe whenever you two happen to cross paths again in one way or another. You weren't trying to be friends, you weren't trying to talk about anything. He made himself clear at Jin's party. You weren't shit to him. So why should you care?

After the block party, everyone is pretty tired and is ready to go straight to bed. You all take turns washing up and getting ready in Jungkook's apartment, Jungkook being the last to step out of the bathroom in a shirt and pajama pants. He watches you sit on his bed quietly, scrolling through your phone.

"Hey." He says softly, gently touching your arm to bring you closer to him.

"Yeah?"

"You know I care about you, right? You know how I feel about you." He says in a soft tone.

"I know."

"So then you know that your happiness is more important to me than mine. You're what matters here."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I know I tell you time and time again that you deserve better than Taehyung, but part of me also feels like I really can't stop you from feeling what you feel. If you--" His head drops as he sighs. "If you wanna work this out with him, just tell me." He says, genuinely concerned about your feelings. He knows he wouldn't hurt you but he's also partially afraid that you might be distracted since things didn't turn out well with Taehyung. Although, whatever, it's always gonna be a big fuck you to him. He's an asshole, and Jungkook was never going to change his mind about it. But what mattered here was you. Kook knew you deserved way better and he was willing to be that for you, but he wasn't going to force you if this wasn't where you truly wanted to be.

"I am happy. Right here."

"Are you sure?"

"Kook. That's done with. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." Is all he responds with before he's pressing lips into a fine line and squeezing your hand. He leans over to kiss you on the forehead before he makes his way out of the room to help your bestfriends get settled out in the living room.

[malfoyfarms]

St. Christopher

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2

Triggers: drowning, domestic abuse/violence, regular violence, alcoholism, manipulation

A/N: hi lovelies, this was written for you because my page hit 350+ followers and “Sleepy Girl” received over 2,100 notes <3 u all

Christopher was a man who carried a child for many many miles even as the child grew heavy, never giving up. This man became a saint, and his image was plastered across items worn by travelers in all forms. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, pins, sashes and even clothing.

The tales of St. Christopher necklaces were told in your family for ages. All surfers and adventurers who wore those necklaces were protected, always returning home. You wore one, both your parents wore one, and your grandfather wore one as well. It had become a right of passage, one that you intended to carry on with your children as well. 

You were on your way to meet JJ at one of the abandoned lookouts on the island, nervous as all can be. The blonde boy had been in your life for a while now, and had been your boyfriend for almost ten months. Your grandfather had brought up the idea of giving JJ a St. Christopher necklace, as he had become part of the family. 

‘Pumpkin, I see the way he looks at you. That’s the same way I looked at your grandmother.’ Those words echoed over and over in your head. The wise man had always been your favorite, and when he suggested it, there was no way you could disagree. You had saved up enough money over the course of the next several weeks and went with the old gentleman to the mainland to pick out a pendant for your boyfriend. At that moment in time you thought the hardest task would be picking out the jewelry, but now you realized explaining the family history and actually passing over the necklace was the hardest part. 

The pendant itself was silver with a gray-blue border, with a long leather chain, knowing JJ wouldn’t like the metal look. Something silly about it looking too kook-ish. The colored rim complemented your own peach hued one. 

You saw the love of your life standing at the edge of the cliff, looking out into the ocean. You took a minute to regain composure and breathe. The leather chain was weaved into your now clammy hand, the pendant leaving an impression on your palm. 

“Hey J, I’m glad you made it,” he turned around to greet you.

“You said it was important, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A smile spread across your face, appreciating how considerate he could be. 

He could tell you were nervous. The shifting of weight from leg to leg, avoiding eye contact, and most importantly, the hiding of hands behind your back. You plopped down next to him, feet dangling off the edge just as he did. 

“Alright, spill, you look like you’re going to explode,” he chuckled. You looked up with nervous eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t run away when he realized what the token meant. 

“So, you know how in my family we have the tradition of the St. Christopher necklace? Well, it’s like a right of passage, or an induction I guess to our family itself.” As you rambled JJ went into thought. He had heard many stories from your grandpa about how he believed the spirit had saved him. “And I was talking with Papa about mine, when he said that it’s time that I gave you one.”

With that last statement, you jutted your right hand forward, opening your palm to present him with the necklace. A blank expression washed over his face as he looked at the object. 

“I figured since adventurers and surfers tend to wear them, you being both, it would keep you safe. Especially now that we’re on some treasure hunt,” you spoke as you looked away. 

JJ gently took the charm out of your palm and placed it on his neck, lying just below the shark tooth. He smiled, looking into your eyes. The gray-blue that lined the man’s imprint matched is eyes.

“Is this your formal way of accepting me into your family?” He asked. You simply nodded, pulling him to kiss your lips. 

Over the next few months the tale around the necklace seemed to have proved its purpose.

                                                          ~~~

When John B proposed the idea of surfing the surge there was no way JJ could decline. With the rare amount of storms, the thought of multiple good waves was too appealing. Of course you would have loved to join the duo, but you were out cold on JJ’s bed at the chateau. He just couldn’t bring himself to wake you up. 

They made their way to the beach, dropping all their stuff on the sand and taking off towards the water. The waves were angry, almost as if they were trying to knock the boys off their boards. JJ being the daring bastard he is, he kept going out farther from the shore each time. 

“Dude, be careful, it's getting really rough out here!” John B yelled out to his friend. JJ simply ignored him and kept swimming. 

Once he was satisfied with his location, he turned around ready to ride the wave back to shore. The surf didn’t go as planned as he was quickly knocked off the board by a huge gust of wind and spray. 

He felt his body scrape the ocean floor, while the current kept him tumbling like dirty clothes. No matter how hard he tried to swim up, he was sloshed around underneath. JJ could feel his lungs burning, dying for air. 

During JJ’s fight to resurface, John B sat at the edge of the beach looking for his blonde friend. He began to panic when his board washed back to shore without its owner. Trying to explain to you how he lost your boyfriend in a surge was going to be a nightmare. How would he tell you? ‘Oh hey Y/n, I uh, couldn’t find JJ after he went down in the surge.’ That was definitely not going to cut it.  

Next thing he knew JJ was washed up, coughing with a slight gash above his eyebrow, two yards away from his board. Relief and color flooded JB’s face. 

“Dude, thank god you’re alive. We’re done for the day.” JJ simply nodded as they made their way back to the Chateau. 

You hadn’t woken up yet, still in a deep sleep, when the two entered the house once again. They quickly agreed not to tell you about the little incident that had just occurred, and go take a nap.

As JJ peeled off his wet bottoms and replaced them with sweatpants, he noticed the pendant on his neck. St. Christopher. He owed the legend big time. He turned to you, chuckling at how you slept. He tried to squeeze in around your body, but since you currently resembled a crumpled piece of paper, he lifted you up a tad to allow him to slip next to you. You barely woke up, but you stirred enough to realize who was underneath you. Your fingers brushed his necklace and you instantly nuzzled to the boy next to you.

                                                       ~~~

The second time the necklace seemed to be looking out for JJ was when he had a run in with his father. JJ had loudly stumbled into the house, causing Luke to wake up. The man’s footsteps came barreling through the house to meet the intruder. When he saw it was his son, he was livid. 

The alcohol induced rage made Luke only see red. He littered blow after blow to his son, not hearing the screams coming out of JJ’s mouth.

“You stupid motherfucker, coming into my house, loud as all can be, especially when I have to work tomorrow,” JJ knew working was a lie, his father gambled on Tuesdays. “I do nothing but provide for your lazy ass and this is how you repay me?” 

JJ prepared himself for another kick or punch or slap, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see his father lying on the ground. 

He quickly picked himself up, grabbed a few things from his room and exited the house, making his way back to the chateau. The entire walk back he played with the necklace he had removed from his neck. The cold metal in his hand was the only thing keeping him semi-relaxed as he made his way to your house. 

   He bound through the front door, marching directly to your room, catching you off guard as you were reading a book. The marks that tracked his body were fresh, and so was the emotional turmoil. JJ threw himself on to your bed, dying to find comfort in something that smelled like you. 

You tended to his physical and emotional wounds as best as you could, desperately trying to provide as much security as you could. The boy looked so young and vulnerable as his wet hair clung to his face and he was wrapped in a quilt. You held him close to your chest, swaying gently.

“He brought me home,” his voice crackled. You let out a noise of confusion. “St. Christopher, he brought me home. Maybe not scratch-free, but he made sure I made it.”

The size of your heart had grown four times in size. The small necklace was wrapped around his hand, sitting in between his pointer and middle finger. 

“St. Christopher knows right where you belong.”

                                                         ~~~

The third, and hopefully not last, time St. Christopher had brought JJ back to you was the most defining. 

Each pogue member had their own intricate tasks on how to get John B and Sarah off the island, your’s being a distraction for the police force. The only specific detail you had to follow was the timing. You needed to capture an audience after dark when the lovers would try to exit island waters. The larger the distraction the better, but you may have overdid it this time. 

While JJ, Kie and Pope had been prepping the boat all day for the escape, you had been wandering the island looking for trouble. Within the time period of you being MIA, you managed to stumble upon Rafe Cameron looking as cracked out as ever. Bingo, you thought, time to light the fuse. 

Walking up to Rafe, you began to pester him. Talking about Sarah, cocaine, and how his dad wasn’t happy that he killed the Sheriff. Telling him he never would live up to the kook expectations. You tried to pull out every card you could to infuriate him. 

Now, hours later, and many many provoking conversations with Rafe later, it was dark and your time to shine, or die.

The police officers were trying to negotiate with Sarah and John B, but were at a complete halt when they saw you were being held with a knife to your throat. You were bloodied and cut as his knife hadn’t been an empty threat

“If-if you don’t stop all of this nonsense about finding my sister, I-I will slit her throat,” Rafe screamed. 

The attention attracted the cameras, Ward, all the deputies and even your friends who were waiting in the tent next to the police. Your panicked face had everyone forgetting about the two escapees. 

“Rafe, son, please put the knife down,” Ward tried to coax him. You instantly felt the blade tighten against your throat. Tears ran down your face, small cries floated from your lips. Rafe’s dirty fingernails dug into your hips causing you to drop to one side in pain. 

“NO! She knows the truth Dad! We need to silence her! I managed to capture her, aren’t you proud Dad?” You pressed your head back into him, trying to get away from the knife, but that action had backfired. He pressed his face against yours, getting spit and tears on your cheek. 

Something must have clicked in Ward’s head because his next statement saved your life. “Of course Rafe, I’m so proud of you.” 

As you dropped to the ground, you were surrounded by an officer, carrying you over to the group of kids who you loved most of all. You could only pick out one voice though, JJ. 

“Y/n, don’t you ever do that again!” he scolded while pulling you against his body. “I can’t lose JB and you on the same night.”

You gently giggled against his chest, trying to stop the tears and from flowing. You were too happy to be pressed up against his chest, smelling the faint scent of weed, deodorant and salt. 

“Don’t be mad, I had to go that far, it was the only way,” you wailed. The grip on you tightened as you felt Kiara and Pope hug you as well. 

It was hours after your parents and grandpa had come to retrieve you and JJ from the beach, and the two of you laid in your bed, refusing to be further than three feet away. Your stomach was pressed against JJ’s as you ran your fingers around his collar bone. His lips sat on the crown of your forehead. 

You broke the silence with words that echoed JJ’s from a few months before. “I did it because I knew he would bring me home to you. No matter how big the adventure, he’d bring me home. One day he’ll bring us home to our biggest adventure, but today was not the day. He knew we were still needed.”

[yukiobeyme]

Could you please do the demon brothers finding MC's sketchbook being full of sketches of them? Love you writing! ⊂((・▽・))⊃

Sorry, I’ve been taking forever, but I’m finally in the mood to write and it turned out I had this mostly done so ya yee! I hope you enjoy it!

Lucifer:

Lucifer doesn’t snoop, it’s not in his nature. But when he saw you had left your sketchbook out and in the common area, he couldn’t help but stroll by casually and take a glance.

He was taken back when he saw sketches of him, he felt his face heat up but was quick to leave the room because he didn’t want to be caught.

He wouldn’t confront you about it either, he would wait to see if you came to him first.

He wanted to learn more about your drawings and see more of it, what he didn’t expect how often you actually left the sketchbook around and open.

So, he made it a habit to always walk by it and check to see if you left it in the common room. Each time he walked by it was a new sketch of him, this time it looked like you had started it during a council meeting and he was stunned how you captured him, but you also had pictures of his eyes, nose and lips scattered around the page as well.

What he didn’t expect was for you to come in and give an awkward cough behind him. He turned around wide-eye and felt himself blush when he saw you standing there.

You were quick to scramble and grab your sketchbook

Mammon:

Mammon is a known snoop when Levi and he were in your room waiting for you. He couldn’t help but look through your belongings, Levi thought it was to see if you had any valuables, but it was to try to learn more about you.

He knew you were into drawing in your sketchbook; he had seen your work in your sketchbook during class or lunch. You rarely sat near him when you drew in your sketchbook.

He didn’t expect to see sketches of him in the book when he finally opened it. He flushed immediately; it was different poses. Him in class when you sat behind him or off to the side. Or when you attended student council meetings, old photoshoots. You had sketches of him smiling, laughing and even blushing.

Levi noticed instantly and tried to look at the sketchbook, but Mammon was quick to keep it out of reach and thankfully that’s when you entered so Levi stopped and Mammon could set your sketchbook, hoping it was unnoticed.

The next time he caught you drawing, he would stroll over and ask what you were drawing and when you blushed and was quick to cover the sketch, he felt like he had won. He would beg and plead with you to let him see it.

It was another sketch of him, but this one tugged at Mammon heart, it was his Demon form, you had added color to this one and it was gorgeous, and Mammon felt his heart stuttered.

Mammon was flushed and speechless, he knew it was filled with sketches of him, but he couldn’t help but react the same way.

“You know, you could always ask. I could um pose for you?” Mammon finally stuttered, looking away from you.

“Sure,” your voice was high pitched, and your face had turned red.

So later you would meet up in his room and you both nervously stood and looked at each other not knowing what to do.

“How do you want me?” Mammon asked and eyes widened at the implication.

You would gain some confidence and ask if you could draw him shirtless.

He agrees and stays flushed the whole time, from the tips of his ears into his chest, you made sure to include it.

 Leviathan:

Levi didn’t mean to snoop, but you left your sketchbook in his room after an anime marathon

At first, he saw sketches of the anime characters, seeing the detail and how beautiful they looked

His face flushed when he saw the first sketch of him

It was him curled up, completely focused on the anime

How his eyes were wide open, engrossed and his mouth agape

He didn’t hear you knock or crack his door open

You were mortified to see he had your sketchbook in his hands

Levi? You said quietly, your voice was slightly shaky

He jumped and flinched at the sound of your voice, slamming the book shut

He immediately started to stutter out countless apologizes

While you were embarrassed you reassured him it was okay, but you wished he asked

He shyly commented on how good your work was

Which caused you to give him a beaming smile

You offered to draw him Zaramela or Henry 1.0

He frames it and keeps it in his room and smiles whenever he sees it

Satan:

It ended up in possession by accident

You both were in the library

You left and when Satan left, he gathered all the books, including your sketchbook

Later he would go through the pile books

He froze when he saw it

He knew the right thing would be to return it immediately

But instead, he decided to hold onto it

Gave you a reason to come see him

He decided he would look at it

He grabbed the book he was looking for and went to read it

But the thought of looking in your sketchbook kept nagging him

A small peak wouldn’t harm anything right?

The first few pages must have been of the human world and your friends

He looked over your friends, how brightly they smiled

Some of their names were written down

And it seemed you let them write and doodle beside their picture

He smiled at them, he felt like he learned so much more about you then

He decided to remember to ask about your human friends

He got engrossed though and couldn’t stop flipping through the pages

Then it transitioned to Devildom

You drew flowers you saw writing down the names

The next page made it freeze

It was a sketch of himself

It was during a student meeting

You captured his scolding face; he felt the urge to stop there but continue at the same time

The next page was called Satan Study

It was different sketches of his eyes, nose, face shape, his smile and his hair

He snapped the book shut and threw it as if it burned him when he heard a knock and you called out to him

“Have you seen my sketchbook? I had it when we were studying together.

He quickly moved around his room, acting to search for it in his piles of books before going where he threw it

He gave it to you with a slight blush and sent you on your way

 Asmodeus:

Asmodeus saw you draw constantly, he needed to see what you were drawing

Maybe it was mischievous to steal your sketchbook

If you questioned him, he would say it was in his demon nature

He went to his room to look at it in private

He started to flicker through the notebook and was thrilled to see drawings of him

Of course, you chose him to be your subject, he was gorgeous

Couldn’t help but a little turned on, he is a narcissistic

He took pictures and posted it to Devilgram, tagging you in it

That’s when you knew he took your sketchbook

You had mixed emotions of being livid and embarrassed

That was your private drawing, rough sketches that were messy

It wasn’t meant to be shared

You immediately marched to his room to get it back

You snatched it from him, without any words

You didn’t want to talk to him, while you were mad you didn’t want to say anything you would regret

Asmodeus would be dense and not understand your emotions and wouldn’t think to apologize

A week of silence and avoiding him, had him coming to you and asking what is wrong

“You really don’t know?” you couldn’t help but feel hurt

Instead of making him guess, you let him in your room and sit and your bed

And you talked about your feelings about the events

When it clicked he felt bad

He told you he just wanted to brag about you

Beelzebub:

You were drawing in the cafeteria, sitting across from Beelz

You seemed engrossed in the drawing but you and Beelz were used to just keeping each other company so he didn’t mind the silence

Lucifer ended up calling you away for a meeting, that you completely forgot about that

In your rush to leave, you left your sketchbook

Beelz called to you but you were already gone

He grabbed it and treated it as it was a baby

He knew how important it was to you

But he was curious about what drawing you were so engrossed in

Flipping through the pages finding different moments you captured

He froze when he saw sketches of him

It was page after page

Of different moments

While he was working out, eating, laughing or smiling

He was so surprised he dropped the food he was holding

He was shocked and immediately tried to clean it up

But it was too late, and he stained the page

He felt horrible

When he saw you, he wasn’t going to tell you, but how you brightened up when you saw he had it

He confessed and looked close to tears

You were grateful he apologized and quickly looked at the damage

It wasn’t on any of the sketches and was only limited to that page

So, you didn’t mind too much because nothing was ruined

He still offered to buy you food anyways to apologize

Belphegor

You left the sketchbook in the planetarium

He napped while you were drawing

He figured you were drawing the night sky

Something you often talked about how often you loved it

But when he saw a sketch of his sleep form instead, he had mixed emotions

How you managed to capture his features and he was surprised he looked peacefully when he slept

He started going through the other pages

He froze when he saw a drawing of him in his demon form

Unlike the sleeping drawing, he looked angry and evil

You had written a single sentence on the page

“When do the nightmares stop?”

Belphegor immediately recognized that this must have been how he looked when he killed you

His gut twisted, he had changed so much towards you

But you still had your fears

You were having nightmares because of him

When he gave you back your sketchbook

He pulled you into an uncharacteristic hug

Without mentioning the drawing

He promised to you he would keep you safe and never hurt you on purpose again.

[lonelypond]

Parent Trap, Ch. 6

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.8K, 6/?

Summary: More things happen in the wrong order.

Girls On Film

Eli had texted that Nico had stopped by the office, upset, so Eli would be home too late for dinner. Nozomi frowned as the evening went on and the twins restlessness increased. So she sat them down with their own decks of playing cards, pulled out her Tarot cards and focused on Eli.

Lovers, always The Lovers, always connected with Eli. Magician Reversed, that was a little concerning. Something not going according to plan...followed by a reversed Ten Of Cups, the idyllic family scene overturned, conflicting values...Nozomi frowned and dealt another card: Queen Of Wands. That was a relief. Or a call to face up to something. But definitely an argument that even if Nozomi’s current path hit a few bumps, there was confidence in her decision.

“Mommy?”

Vik, ever sensitive to mood, sat next to Nozomi. Teddy was using both decks to build a card tunnel.

“Yes, Vik.”

“Is Mama mad at you?”

Vik always got to the point. They were extremely reliable about finding the one nagging weakness in either Nozomi or Eli’s arguments about anything and skewering it, directly on target.

“No, Auntie Nico just wanted to talk to her.”

“Is Auntie Nico mad at you?”

Nozomi chuckled, that was the question that kept coming back to her mind. “I don’t know, Рыбка (sweetie), maybe…”

Vik pointed at the Queen Of Wands, “That’s a Queen? She has short hair like me.”

“Yes, she does.”

“Is she friendly?”

Nozomi bobbed her head, debating how to reply. Vik had been showing more interest in the Tarot recently, “Friendly, but firm if you’ve messed up.”

“Like Mama.”

Nozomi couldn’t hold in the belly laugh as Vik spoke exactly what she’d been thinking.

“MOMMY!!! Look at this.” Teddy was waving frantically at her tunnel, tilting precariously at the start. “Take a picture for Mama.”

“Okay, Солнце (Sunshine).” Nozomi grabbed her phone, Vik sliding into her seat to examine the cards closer.

###

Nico hadn’t texted or called. Maki had to force herself to stop pacing next to Dia’s crib when she got her tucked in for the night. Dia had been fussy all day, but with no nap, actually fell asleep easily. Maybe a long soak was would be relaxing. Maki turned on the baby monitor, set up candles, dropped a lavender bath bomb, but couldn’t get Nico out of her mind. The mood had been so strange. Nico and her mother had obviously been having a private, complicated conversation and Maki couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that it was about her.

Maki really liked Nico. And although that morning in Philly had been intense, it hadn’t felt rushed. Nico had just made a safe space for them, for Maki to express what she wanted. What she really wanted. And really wanted again and again, which was an unusual feeling for her. The few times she’d been physically intimate with a potential partner, there had been affection, but no urgency about what next. Not seeing Nico, thinking maybe that this time Nico was the one indifferent, lacking urgency, that actually seemed to hurt. And Maki needed to know that she was guessing wrong about Nico’s feelings.

Panic stripped away subtext. And she sent the text before she could reread it.

M: Was today too much? Dia just really wanted to see you.

M: So did I. I’ve been looking forward to you being back in Chicago so we could ….

M: But we didn’t have to rush into the family thing...with your Mom...I can do casual…

Maki reread what she’d sent. And dropped her phone on the tray next to the bath. Too much, too clingy...Nico was going to forget Maki’s number and be on the way to her next, non clingy post concert groupie as soon as she could…

###

Nico stared intently at the screen of her phone, willing Eli to text her that Nozomi was crushed by the weight of guilt and Maki was fine with Nico continuing to court her....court her. Nico raspberried herself...this wasn’t courting, this was Nico wanting everything with the hot, fascinating, really into Nico Maki Nishikino...but what if Dia already happened to be theirs? Because of something Nozomi did. That would weird Maki out, make everything strange, and Nico had been sensing Maki leaning toward psyching herself out. Nico had been hoping getting back to Chicago would let Nico get them back on track, but what could Nico say if she saw Maki, without stumbling over Dia.

Maki’s text tone. Eli was weak and hadn’t done anything yet, she was probably driving around in circles pyching herself up to talk to Nozomi. And Eli had impressed upon Nico exactly how much grief Maki’s parents' lawyers could make for both of them, making Nico swear not to talk to Maki until Eli did. But Eli was weak… And Maki was texting.

M: But we didn’t have to rush into the family thing...with your Mom...I can do casual…

Nico had done casual a couple of times. She didn’t want it. She wanted the connection she felt when Maki looked at her, the openness, the vulnerability, the trust....and from what little Maki had said about her dating life prior to Nico, Nico guessed that intimacy had led to cooling off, so Maki was probably freaking out ‘cause Nico had been blowing her off all day. But not because of Maki reasons…

Nico’s promise to Eli wasn’t as important as Maki. Maki obviously needed emotional aftercare. Nico hit call.

“Nico?”

Maki sounded like she’d been caught mid yawn. It was adorable.

“Hi, Maki. Sorry I didn’t get back to you about takeout. Had to talk to Eli.”

“Is everything all right, Nico?” Nico heard a splash? Was Maki in the bath? The phone was obviously on speaker.

“Nico would like to join you in the bath.”

Maki laughed, it was euphoric, Nico was so hooked, Maki's voice hit Nico in all the good places. “They used to do that in movies, talk on the phone in their separate bubble baths, put their feet up, show off some leg.”

“Nico would love to see that.”

“So would I.” A little bit shy. Nico was beginning to forget why she’d been reluctant to call Maki.

“I’m in bed…”

“What’d you have for dinner.”

“Didn’t.”

“You sound like me in med school.”

“What were you like in med school? Were you buried in books? Or bodies? Dating cute nurses? Would you even have noticed Nico ten years ago?”

“How could anyone not notice Nico?”

“That’s what Nico always says…” Nico seized on an idea, maybe she could actually keep their conversation clear of things that Nico wasn’t ready to talk about, “What would we have talked about ten years ago?”

“I had this terrible roommate.”

“Really?”

“Really. Wild party animal, had to barricade myself in my room.” Maki sounded more amused than upset.

“You snuck into the parties, didn’t you?”

A pause, what might be towel noises. Nico desperately wanted a video call, “Maybe…but then my grades dropped and I moved back home.”

Keep this vibe going, Nico told herself. “So what did you do for fun after your brush with the wild side?”

“Piano. And Rin and I played soccer in a league. That was fun.”

“Nico bets you looked cute in your uniform.”

Sexy indignation that made Nico want to rip off whatever Maki had covered herself with, “ I looked HOT, Nico, I was 22 and in great shape.”

“You’re still in great shape, Nico knows.”

A giggle, a pause, two people syncing up again.

“What were you like ten years ago?” Maki asked softly, her voice a frisson in Nico's ear.

“Too busy for anything. Constantly on tour. Studying finance on the side. I got my economics degree over six years. Magna cum laude.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Nico planned to be a success. Now the suits can’t say Nico doesn’t know how business works.”

“Impressive.” Maki breathed.

‘Nico strives.”

###

10 p.m. Nozomi was getting worried. Eli was never out this late. Nozomi had let the twins roughhouse past their bedtime because whenever Eli got home, there was going to be a serious conversation. Although the cards had been full of warnings about that, Nozomi knew the truth in her gut before she dealt out the spread.

Key in the door, sigh as Eli closed it behind her. Eli, looking tired, wearing glasses, she’d been crying. She stopped, clear gaze meeting Nozomi’s.

“I’ve hurt my oldest friend, exposed myself to litigation, and could lose my practice. Was that what you meant to happen, Nozomi?”

Nozomi winced.

Eli had her hands shoved in the pockets of her overcoat, “What were you thinking?”

“About?”

“Nozomi.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eli. Has Nico been lying about me?”

Eli glared, her jaw set, nostrils flared. “If this is how you’re going to behave, I’ll be in the guest room.”

“That upsets the twins. Can’t you just pretend to fall asleep on the couch again?” Nozomi knew this was not the ideal way to react, but with Eli so serious, she found an edge of panic pushing her to impulsive speech.

“Nozomi…” Eli’s hands were warm and strong as she held Nozomi’s, “Please just explain why you altered Nico’s paperwork.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Nico was crying. Maki’s going to be livid.”

Nozomi felt a twinge of guilt, sure, but she also knew that everything would work out. This must be about Dia. Nico and Maki were getting along, that was obvious from Nico’s texts to Eli. Surely they could sort it out.

“I’d like to say something to Maki that doesn’t just sound like my wife played a stupid prank. Please, Nozomi, help me understand.”

Nozomi giggled, “I had a feeling, Eli. The cards had told me there would be a change in Nico’s fortunes and then I saw her in your office…she obviously wants a family, Eli, she always has, you told me that. I just want to help the universe give her one. Just let them work it out."

Eli had no reply. When Nozomi doubled down on ‘the cards’ and intuition, there was no opening for Eli to logic her out of her beliefs. And the damnable thing was, it always worked out. But this wasn’t their life, this was Nico and Maki and Dia’s. Nozomi had been wrong to meddle. And left Eli terribly vulnerable.

Too exhausted to argue or strategize any more, Eli tossed her coat on the couch. “I’m going to bed. I have to talk to Maki tomorrow.”

“Did you eat?”

Eli shrugged.

“It will work out, Eli. Have faith."

Eli shook her head, “Good night, love.”

A too quick kiss on the cheek, leaving Nozomi alone, to curl up in Eli’s coat, on a corner of the couch, unpleasantly surprised by Eli’s intransigence. Had she gone too far this time?

###

A long afternoon, Maki finally getting a chance to look at her phone. Message from Raye, Dia’s nanny. Dia fussy and running a fever, over a hundred. Maki bit her lip. That might explain yesterday’s fit of temper and how easily Dia fell asleep last night.

“Dr. Nishikino?” The lab tech came around the corner.

“What’s up, Kadir?”

“Do you want to see the results of Mx. Nabe’s bloodwork?”

Maki glanced at her smart watch. Her shift was over twenty minutes ago. And the late dinner with Nico was now probably not going to happen. “Let me check something.” Maki walked confidently to the call board. Tonight’s on call orthopedic surgeon was Dr. Wilhimena Mae Tompkins. Top of the line. Maki’s first or second choice. “Just send them to Dr. Tompkins. The patient’s already been moved to a room, right?”

“Orderlies just took her upstairs.”

“Guess I’m done here then. Dia’s running a fever so I’ve got one more patient to see.” Maki winked, Kadir grinned.

“See you in a couple days then, Doc. And I hope Dia feels better.”

“Thanks. I’m sure it’s nothing. She’s probably teething.”

Now to text Nico.

###

Nico hadn’t heard from Eli all day. Obviously Eli had chickened out. Like Nico expected. Time for a call. Eli picked up.

“Are you hiding from your wife in your office?”

“Shut up, Nico.”

“Don’t talk to Nico like that. You promised Nico you’d talk to Maki. Have you talked to Maki?”

No reply.

“Eli.”

“I’m still working out what to say.”

“Start with, I really didn’t mean for my nosy, pushy, annoying hussy of a wife to…”

“Don’t talk about Nozomi like that.”

NIco sighed, “C’mon, Eli. Nozomi is currently on the bottom of Nico’s friend list. I’m not going to be nice.”

“She’s my wife, Nico. It’s complicated.”

“What is happening to Nico is complicated. You’re just not willing to deal with the consequences of your wife’s intrusive, illegal, apocalyptic meddling. Nico could sue.”

“Yes, you could.” Eli sounded so tired, but Nico had zero sympathy for the enabler.

“Talk to Maki or I will.”

“Nico.”

End call. Before Nico could put her phone down, Maki’s text tone pinged.

M: Dia’s got a fever. I’m heading home. We'll have to postpone dinner ●︿●

N: Nico will bring dinner over (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

M: Pizza?

Nico chuckled.

N: Whatever the sexy doctor wants.

M: Pizza ᕕ[ ᓀ ڡ ᓂ ]ㄏ─∈

M: And you （＾_-）

N: Is an hour good?

M: Sure.

N: See both my best girls then.

Nico hit Eli’s number.

“Tell Maki.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Eli.”

“I’m drafting a presentation to explain right now.”

“Include a big picture of Nozomi with an arrow pointing to guilty.”

“Good night, Nico.”

“Talk to Maki, Eli. Or Nico talks to lawyers.”

Eli seemed more concerned about Nico and the Nishikino’s lawyers than what Nozomi’s action had cost Nico. Eli continued to fail, freefalling down Nico’s friend list. Another call. Mama. Nico let that go to voicemail. Maybe she should forward that voicemail and the three before it to Eli. Maybe then Eli would realize some of the pressure Nico was feeling.

###

Nico knocked. Maki was right there, opening the door, in a showcasing all her curves casual combo of black leggings and a mostly undone gray henley. She waved Nico into the wide open family room that seemed to make up at least 70% of the first floor of the carriage house. A baby grand was tucked into a windowed corner, a huge sectional sofa was centered and facing the fireplace, and the walls were decorated with seasonal photos of a shrine and what looked like birds and dragons restored from antique wooden screens. Set a calm, classy mood.

“So are the Disney movie posters in your bedroom, Cinderella?” Nico bounced up to kiss Maki.

Maki smiled, “I took these photos myself, during some visits to Kyoto and Tokyo, before med school, and the screens are damaged family heirlooms I restored sections of.”

“Hands on decorating.”

“I want Dia to grow up with her heritage around her.”

Silent, Nico walked around the sectional, putting the pizza boxes on the wood and glass table, not sure what to say about Dia.

“She’s feeling better, I think. Her fever went down.” Maki leaned on the sofa back.

“Good.”

“Want to check in on her and say hello before we eat?”

Nico deflected. “Pizza first?”

Maki opened the box with Carmen’s excellent stuffed pesto pizza. A garlic smell wafted out with the steam, filling the room, “It’s still hot.”

“Nico delivered pizzas for a summer. I know the tricks.”

“Nico knows a lot. Let's say good night to Dia.” Maki slid her arm through Nico’s, stealing a quick kiss and half dragging Nico to the stairs.

###

Dia’s nursery was blue and green and white, with a sea and lighthouse theme. Fish and mammals and turtles played on the walls. In the low light of the nightlight, there was an almost bioluminescent glow to the undersea residents.

“Nico is surprised Little Mermaid wasn’t a choice when we talked Disney movies.”

“Don’t like that one…” Maki muttered.

“No, it’d be hard to lose your voice.”

“And music.”

“Yeah. Nico would hate that.”

They stood at the crib, Nico staring down at Dia, Maki watching Nico, Nico trying not to remember Cotaro in his crib, dark hair, serious face...Dia was relaxed, arms flung out, a tiny smile on her face.

What if they were in their house, standing together, Maki and Nico, both of them, looking at a child they’d had together after a whirlwind courtship and marriage? What if this were Nico’s house and when Dia woke up, she looked at Nico, saying “Momma,” and reaching up for a hug? What if…?

“She’s beautiful.” Nico whispered and then her breath hitched and sudden water in her eyes stung. She let go of the crib and rushed to the door.

“Good night, Dia. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Maki left the lightest of kisses on her daughter’s forehead, wondering if she’d seen tears in Nico’s eyes. But Nico was already downstairs, considering the stuffed pizzas.

“Do you want pesto or sausage? And we need plates. And forks. And…”

“I’ve had stuffed pizza before, Nico. Just give me a minute to find the pie server.”

###

Cocoa had raved about a movie called The Half Of It so Nico suggested they watch that. Maki had recognized it, but said Nico needed to watch Saving Face, director Alice Wu’s first movie, about a doctor and a dancer and their families.

“You’ll love the mom. She’s so funny.”

“And the main character’s a doctor? So Nico will find out what doctoring is like?”

“Yep.”

The movie progressed; the pizza was eaten, with occasional garlic flavored kisses shared, but Maki kept picking up unease from Nico. Was it lingering from yesterday, the obvious tension between Nico and her mom? Or whatever Nico and Eli had talked about last night? Something obviously had claimed some of Nico’s attention. But after pizza, Maki had curled up next to Nico, encouraging Nico to drop her arm around Maki’s shoulder. And as the flirting between Wil and Vivian got sexier, kisses and more intimate gestures right there on the screen, building a mood, Maki could feel Nico pull her closer. Maki nudged Nico on the cheek, getting her to turn, tempting her into a luring, longing kiss. Whatever worries had been on Nico’s mind had been eclipsed, Maki smiling as she felt agile hands slide under her shirt, warm against bare skin, Nico murmuring endearments between kisses and shiver inducing nibbles along Maki’s neck and jaw.

And then Nico’s phone went off, one of her raps.

“Damn it.” Nico grabbed for her phone, Maki falling down on the couch when Nico let go, “It’s Cocoro’s emergency tone. Sorry.” And all Nico’s attention was on the call, “What’s up? Nico’s super busy....Yes, Maki and Dia came to the house yesterday. Did Mama tell you?”

Dia? Alert, Maki sat up.

Nico was listening. “What did Mama say...why...no, we can’t say that….Nico won’t let…”

Maki had no idea why Nico’s sister had anything to say about Dia. Nico had turned away, about to get off the couch, Maki reached over Nico’s shoulder, pulling the phone away, switching it to speaker.

“Why are you talking about my daughter?”

“Dr. Nishikino?” Cocoro’s voice was tense, “You’re there? Good, then we can settle what the language should be.”

“What language? Why does Nico have anything to do with Dia?”

Nico grunted, it reminded Maki of someone stubbing a toe.

“Pictures have been circulating on TWIG of Nico Yazawa’s secret daughter.”

“Nico doesn’t have a secret daughter…” Maki suddenly realized she was doing all the talking, “Nico?”

Nico took her phone back, leaving it on speaker, but switching to the TWIG app. A quick search of “#Nico” brought up a snap of Nico hugging Dia in front of her house, Nico’s mother in the background, Maki nowhere to be seen.

Nico stared. Cocoro continued to panic chatter, “All we need to do is release a picture of you, Dr. Nishikino, Dr. Nishikino’s daughter, and the statement that you and Dr. Nishikino are dating and Dia is not your daughter. People are running facial match software and getting confirmation. Next they’ll be wondering who the father is…”

“Dia doesn't have a father,” Maki’s fists clenched. No one but Eli was supposed to have any details of her pregnancy with Dia.

“Shut up. Both of you.” Nico snapped, the phone dropping to the couch, Nico’s head dropping into her hands.

“Just tell them Dia’s my daughter.”

Cocoro's tone brightened. “Dr. Nishikino is being unexpectedly helpful, Nico. We can get ahead of this.”

“Just release the statement, Cocoro. Nico and I can talk to the press.” A practical solution, Maki decided.

“Let Nico think. Both of you. Just be quiet. Nico needs quiet.” Nico ended the call.

“Nico, Dia is my daughter. We can just tell everyone. We don’t have to keep us dating a secret. I don’t care what my parents think.” Maki sat next to Nico, brushing fingers through Nico’s hair.

There was a long pause, Nico enjoying Maki's touch. Then she pulled away. “Maki could just marry me. That might save Nico.” Nico sounded like someone hanging onto a building ledge by a ladder made of split fingernails and cruel laughter.

Nico’s tone and odd behavior scared Maki, “How can you joke about that, Nico?”

Nico raised her head, tears streaming down her face, “You don’t know this yet, but Nico is a terrible liar.”

“What does that mean Nico? Do you have a secret daughter…”

“Maki…”

Maki’s ringtone went off. She glanced at her phone, “It’s Eli.”

Nico dropped her head again, “Answer it. We might as well blow everything up.”

Maki hit speaker, snarling, “What is it, Eli? Want to let me know Dia is Nico’s daughter too?”

“Oh good,” Eli sounded relieved, “Nico told you.”

Maki was on her feet, shouting, “NICO TOLD ME WHAT?!!!???!!!”

“About her paperwork? And Nozomi? I'm really sorry, Maki.”

Maki felt pale. Her knees wobbled. The room unfocused. Black spots dotting everything. Nico ended the call.

Before Maki could fall, Nico was there, “Maki? C’mon, breathe. Take it slow, breathe for Nico.”

Maki shook off Nico, and ran upstairs to Dia, pulling her out of her crib, holding her tightly, Dia blinking, confused. Nico was there, almost instantly.

“Can we talk?”

“Go away, Nico.”

“Maki. Please.”

“GO AWAY NOW, NICO!” Maki screamed. “Leave us alone.”

Dia started to cry.

Nico stepped back, “Call me later, please, Maki. Or let Eli explain. I’ll have Cocoro tell everyone Dia’s your daughter. I’m sorry this happened like this." A pause, Nico reaching a hand out, almost touching them. "It’ll be all right, Dia.”

“Don’t tell Dia anything.” Maki growled, Dia pressed against her as she glared at Nico, daring her to come any closer.

Retreating into the hall, Nico forced tears back, or she’d be wailing as loud as Dia. How had this gone so wrong?

A/N: Rainy, moody weather.

[talesofpanem]

The Book

Author: @xerxia31

Rating: K

Summary: Peeta and Katniss contemplate an unplanned addition to their special book.

________

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

Peeta Mellark wasn’t normally so irresponsible; in fact, he prided himself on being a good and attentive father. A loving and involved parent, a man who genuinely enjoyed spending time with his two children. 

But Asher had croup, again, and they’d been up three nights in a row listening to his little barking cough, walking the floor with him while he choked and gasped and cried, and standing over his crib in terror when the coughing stopped.

And to add to Peeta’s exhaustion, his right-hand man at the bakery, Dashiel, had been out nearly a week, tending to his wife who had badly sprained her ankle on the uneven cobbles that still lined the square. Cobbles that desperately needed to be replaced but hadn’t made it to the top of the districts to-do list despite being a solid twenty years past their prime. Rebuilding entire districts took time, after all. But those uneven cobbles always made him feel guilty, even after years of therapy. A symbol of all that had been ruined. And so Peeta, a good and generous boss even when not guilt-ridden, had sent Dashiel to be with his wife, assuring him it was fine, and then covered his shifts if not happily at least uncomplainingly, working from predawn until evening each day to keep the fledgling district in bread and treats.

But this morning, Dash was back at his post, and Katniss had taken the opportunity to leave before dawn to hunt, assuring Peeta she’d be home by lunchtime. Though their pantry was not depleted, he understood her need to get out of the house and into the woods after so many days spent inside. And he was more than capable of caring for their kids alone, enjoyed the all too rare opportunity to wake them and feed them and play with them.

Asher, full-bellied, clean and content, was sleeping in his little cot by the couch, his breathing finally soft and even. Willow, his precious little mini-Katniss, was curled up on the floor in front of him, happily drawing pictures on sheets of bakery paper with her new wax crayons. The rain gently pattering on their living room windows was soothing and hypnotic. He thought he’d just close his eyes for a moment.

The cumulative effects of all of those late nights and early mornings, all of guilt and the middle of the night disruptions and heart-pounding fears, had finally felled him. 

It wasn’t the kids who woke him, or the front door closing. It was a tiny, startled gasp.

His eyes flew open, moving from asleep to high alert with a speed only those who had lived through trauma could fully appreciate.

At first, he was unsure what had happened, though his every instinct told him something was wrong. Katniss stood at the entrance to the living room, rainwater dripping from her glossy braid, running in rivulets over his leather jacket to pool by her feet. Her eyes were wide and glossy, horror-filled, and her small hand clamped over her mouth.

Peeta’s eyes darted around the room, looking for the source of her shock. The clock on the mantel read half past eleven, forty minutes had passed since he’d sat down just to have a short break. Asher was still asleep, pouty bottom lip fluttering with each breath. And Willow still sat in front of the couch, colouring happily.

Colouring, not on bakery paper now but in a book.

In *the* book.

A multitude of responses crashed together in Peeta’s mind. The need to hold his wife, to clutch her to his chest and soothe the pain her could see in every line of her beautiful face. The need to gather up his little girl and shield her from the anguish he knew Katniss would likely release in the form of tears and escape and lost days, running away and leaving their daughter confused and maybe afraid. The need to grab the book - their book, the book that held their most precious memories, and protect it from further harm. Instead, he sat helplessly as Willow glanced up and saw her mother standing in the doorway.

“Mama,” she cried, flashing a giant grin. “Yook! I maked you more fwowers.”

Peeta glanced back at the book. Sure enough, on an early page, from when it had been an apothecary guide, Willow had added her not-quite-four year old’s rendition of flowers to an old illustration of what he thought was an iris. Beside the faded purple bloom was row upon row of bright yellow and orange balls on jagged green stems.

He waited for his heartbroken wife to bolt, powerless to prevent it, incapable of fixing the damage. Hating himself just a little.

But Katniss, as always, surprised him. She didn’t run, didn’t cry out. As he watched, frozen, she took a deep, shuddering breath, then pasted on a smile that looked only a little bit forced and moved to kneel beside Willow. “They’re beautiful, baby,” she said softly, voice rough with emotion. “You’re an artist, just like Daddy.” Katniss lifted the little girl into her lap and hugged her hard, tears shimmering in her eyes, while Peeta moved the book off the table and onto a high shelf.

It was hours later, after a full if somewhat quieter than typical afternoon of stories and snacks and baby spit up and toddler tantrums, that Katniss lifted the book back down from the shelf and fell onto the couch to inspect the damage. Peeta moved quietly, tentatively to sit beside her. Perhaps a dozen other pages had crayon scrawled across them, a swath of toddler destruction and a sign that Willow had been unsupervised far too long. Bold blue encircled an entry written by Katniss’s father, obscuring a few lines of his handwriting. Red lines punctuated the story of Boggs, edging across the corner of the picture Peeta had drawn years ago, likely the only image in existence of the gentle soldier who had meant so much to Katniss. Tears slipped down her cheeks and stabbed Peeta through the heart. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, though it wasn’t enough, not nearly. “I should have been watching more closely.”

She surprised him again, lifting her face to smile through her tears. “It’s okay,” she said, and before he could shake his head, she laid her soft palm against his cheek, ruffling the scruffy evidence of his exhaustion affectionately. “Really, it’s okay. It’s their story too,” she whispered, “Willow’s and Asher’s.” She glanced back at a particularly livid orange wax slash. “Maybe this isn’t the way I’d have wanted her part to look. But I don’t want to lock this away like it’s too precious for them to see.” She sighed, searching for words, and Peeta waited for her to gather her thoughts. He reached up to stroke the glossy length of her braid. They’d grown older, but she was every bit as stunning as the teenager who had stolen his heart two decades ago. She was still feisty too, but the years had tempered her fire, harnessed it perhaps, into something that warmed and soothed. 

She sighed, twisting to lean into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I want them to understand us, what we lived through. Why we have nightmares and why they’ll never go away.” Peeta kissed her hair, nodding. He’d had similar thoughts. “That means this book can’t be something we keep on a dusty shelf and only drag out when I’m sad or you’re struggling. It has to be part of our lives. Something that belongs to them, as much as it does to us.”

“You’re right,” he said, softly kissing her cheek. “We can use the book to make them understand in a way that will make them braver.” He kissed her again, and again, lining soft kisses of contrition and gratitude across her cheeks and scarred neck. 

“Tomorrow,” Katniss said, “I’ll show her the book. Just the plant section, to start. Let her know that it’s something we work on together, not alone when Daddy is napping.”

Peeta chuckled, and held his wife tighter. He was in awe that they’d come through hell together, and while they were a work in progress, they had a normal, even happy life, where little disappointments didn’t derail everything they’d built together.

[audacity-city]

Study Buddy - Bakugo - Reader

Request: Ive been having a hard time with grades to the point I'm getting panic attacks worrying about what my parents will think. Can I request a scenario of Bakugou comforting his fem!s/o when he finds her having one, or maybe one of him comforting her after, whichever youre comfortable doing. Thank you!!

A/n: I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been struggling love, I hope the education spirits bless you! Please take care of yourself too, I know how rough it can be to when you’re trying to keep up with school, I’m currently enrolled in my Freshman year of college, and it’s kicking my ass, quite frankly. I hope this makes you feel a little bit better though!

Warnings: Fluff, description/mentions of a panic attack & self doubt, swearing

Tuesday’s were the worst day of the week at U.A. High, seeing as that was the day the previous week’s assignments were due for grading. Granted, you were thankful that it wasn’t Monday’s, but seven days was still seven days, no matter which day you started from.

Of course today was Tuesday, and you were not in class today. No, you were holed up in your room back at the dorms, attempting to smother yourself in your multitude of blankets and tissues. Tears streamed freely down your face, and it took everything in you to force yourself to breath, although your body seemed to have forgotten how to do so. Despite the lack of oxygen all you wanted to do was scream, but you couldn’t do that, then someone would know that there was something wrong, and you couldn’t have that. No, your pain needed to remain a secret, to protect you from ridicule and to save everyone from having another burden.

Little did you know, your classmates were spending their free study period (graciously given by Aizawa, so that he could take a nap) discussing your whereabouts. Many of them had begun to worry about you, having noticed that you’d become less social, and spent more time alone in your room than you normally would have. You had always enjoyed being with everyone, and coming to class to learn and improve your quirk, so why were you not here today? Several of them had jumped to the worst, and most ridiculous conclusions, that they could come up with.

“Maybe something bad happened? What if she’s sick and she can’t even get out of bed!” Midoriya was panicking, Iida and Uraraka stood nearby, seemingly sharing his worry.

“I think one of us should go check on her? (Y/n) isn’t like this, she would have told one of us if she couldn’t be here today,” Uraraka rubbed the back of her neck as she spoke, looking around for a volunteer.

The students of class 1-A looked at each other expectantly and hesitantly. What if you wanted to be left alone, could any of them truly handle being shut out by you? The emotional light of the entire class depended on you, whether you realized it or not. On numerous occasions you had been there for each of them at least once, if not several times. For crying out loud, you were more defensive of those you cared for than Midoriya himself, and you cared for everyone. You jumped headfirst into arguments, playing the mediator, and you even jumped in front of people in battle. What were they to do if you suddenly didn’t want to surround yourself with them anymore, to provide the support they all needed, and to provide you with the same support.

“How about you idiots leave me to worry about my girlfriend, huh? All you fucking extras, standing around like a bunch of weaklings. Aren’t we supposed to be heroes?” Bakugo stood on the outskirts of the group of students, his backed turned to the rest of them as he made his way to the door. “If (y/n) needs us, then it’s our job as heroes to help those in need, and here you all are, sitting on your asses like a bunch of idiots!”

The door to the classroom slammed open and shut again in the blink of an eye, leaving the remaining students with a sense of shame. Bakugo was right, they all knew he was. You were there anytime anyone needed anything, and none of them had the courage to reach out to you when you needed them most. Hopefully Bakugo would be able to bring you back if he returned, so they could express themselves to you.

---

You slowly let your phone drift from between your fingertips, allowing it to fall to the floor. You had just received a call from your parents, who were absolutely livid about your slipping grades upon seeing that you had failed a test from last week. They had both shouted at you through the small speaker of your cell phone, the volume jarring your thoughts, rendering you unable to respond. Did they not understand how terrible you had already felt upon seeing the grade for yourself yesterday morning? You could feel tears begin to well up in your eyes again, but this time they were accompanied by choked sobs as you retreated into your own figure, eyes screwing shut painfully. You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers digging into the flesh of your upper arms as you tilted your body to the side, falling to the floor and trying to condense yourself even further.

“Why can’t I just be as smart as everyone else?” You whispered to yourself, earning no response from your empty room, you sobbed into your arms again, burrowing your face into them. “Why can’t I just be as smart as Katsuki?..”

The doorknob to your room rattled, twisting open aggressively, and Bakugo swung it open, despite how dark it was beyond your door, his eyes immediately landing on your meek figure that lay collapsed on the floor. You tried to abruptly push yourself up into a sitting position, but your hand slipped from beneath you and you fell back to the floor as Bakugo made his way towards you. What was he doing here? A wave of shame washed over you as you looked up at him from your position on the floor.

“What are you still doing in here, all of those fucking idiots are worried sick-” Bakugo hadn’t seen it in the darkness, but the normally (s/c) skin of your face was now splotchy, the skin around your eyes swollen and covered in your tears. He felt his eyes widen at the sight, honestly unsure of what to do.

“What happened?” Bakugo crouched before you, doing his best to keep his voice steady and quiet so as not to startle you further, and reached out to rub your back.

A hiccup racked your whole frame. “I failed. I’m a failure Katsuki! I couldn’t even pass a stupid test..”

Bakugo couldn’t help the glare that he gave you as a response, taking a seat on the floor in front of you and hauling you over by your legs. You didn’t fight him, you didn’t have the energy to. All the crying, the stress, and the ensuing exhaustion making your limbs too heavy to use against him. You were yanked upright and situated in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. He lifted one of your hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckle of each finger before replying to you.

“How could you think that?

Your eyebrows knitted together, how could you not think that? Especially with how your parents had reacted, and the grade you had received. All you had been able to think about was how disappointed Katsuki would be with you when he found out, how he would no longer see you as an equal, but here he was, holding you in his arms and questioning your thought process.

The test and the phone call suddenly seemed so irrelevant. Sure, you didn’t feel great about it, but Katsuki didn’t care, he loved you for you. How could you have forgotten that?

“Are you going to answer me baby girl? Or are you just going to keep staring off into space?” The smirk that plastered his face was apparent, you didn’t even need to look at him to know it was there. A smile spread across your own face.

“Thank you for coming to save me, Katsuki.”

“Don’t mention it you dork, but if you ever say anything like that again, I’m going to beat you ass, you hear me?” You relaxed into Bakugo’s hold, letting your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

“I hear you loud and clear “Lord Explosion Murder”,” You giggled to yourself as Bakugo pressed a kiss to your (h/c) hair.

“You know you have the entirety of our class worrying their asses off about you?”

“I guess we better go show them that I’m okay then, huh?” Leaning forward, you had planned to stand up and go change, but Bakugo’s arms only tightened around you.

“Forget about those fucking nerds, they can see you later. For now, you’re all mine.”

“Whatever you say, Katsuki.”

[theothersideofhim]

Stan Figures it Out: Part 2 (or, Lets Do The Time Warp Again) (or, Somebody)

It took me WAY too long to get this transcribed but here it is! The continuation of Part 1, and where Stan kind of comes to terms with the feelings he has for Lucifer. Again, this was all over discord so I hope y’all don’t mind it not being in drabble format. 

Notes for additional context: “Fenton” is the name of Stan’s host. (He’s the one who looks like Steven Buscemi~) “Eli” is the name of the Creator God in this universe.

Warnings: Stan and Lucifer’s relationship has been, historically, unhealthy. Like turbulent and violent and abusive, to put in mildly. But lately it’s been calming down???? Kind of. This has been literal years in the making lmao.... They’ve been at a point where “I hate you” meant “I love you” for a little while now. So there’s a bit of a toxic dynamic going on here that I figure I should warn people about. 

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

Stan:

[Stan popped into Lucifer's existence, in host and absolutely livid. Eyes actually glowing red as he stalked up and punched him across the jaw without so much as a "How do you do." Didn't give him any time to recover before jumping on him trying to get claws in his face.]

Lucifer:

[Sometimes Stan appeared and this was normal. Just popping into each other's lives with nothing more than a punch in the face for a hello. But it had been a little bit since that happened and maybe he relaxed like two whole fractions. 

 He was almost stunned enough by the punch not to get arms up between scrambling fingers and his PRETTY FACE??? He managed though!!] WHAT CRAWLED INTO YOUR ASS?????? [Swinging a fist into Stan's face back when he could make the swipe.]

Stan:

[The fist hit with a loud smack but didn't seem to deter him any. He kept bearing down on Lucifer till he could get him stuck up against the nearest wall and start kicking him, since the face was being blocked and he didn't have the mental stamina to think beyond hatehatehatehate.] 

I DON'T KNOW. WHAT'S BEEN UP YOURS HUH????? MAYBE THAT FUCKING ASH GUY HUH???? YOU LIKE THAT SHIT??? YOU FUCKING LIKE THAT HUH??????????????????

Lucifer:

[At this point? Glad he's out of host and Duncan's off taking a nap because wow this was a TANTRUM. Also, could manifest two extra hands to help fend some of the worst blows off with. Though some were still going to land and enough of them would take a good bit of strength out of him. 

 And he sure was going to tap a powerful hit or twelve back into Stan at choice locations and times. Not actually getting half a second to really understand what Stan was mad about to try and calm him down. Better to weather the tantrum out.]

Stan:

[Four hands were better than two, and eventually one of those defensive punches was going to clock Stan right in the nose. Breaking it and getting him dazed enough to finally stop. Just dropped to his hands and knees, face dripping blood, catching breath he didn't even really need. Still seeing red and trying not to let ANY OTHER EMOTION creep in there in the aftermath.] 

I HATE YOU. I FUCKING HATE YOU. I WISH I NEVER FUCKING MET YOU.

Lucifer:

[Took that moment to BREATHE. Like two whole breaths with aching ribs. Wiping at his split lip and hunching with back to the wall until he could piece something together about what just happened. Then snorted, winced, and smirked.] You're jealous? [Ash mention+hate=jealousy baby explosion???? He panted a little more.] Everyone hurts everyone in Hell, Stan. You set the system that way.

Stan:

[He raised his fist again to that but only sent it slamming down into the floor. Put enough Force behind that one to crack it.] I'm not FUCKING jealous. I'm not... 

[But he couldn't keep it up. He was already on his knees. He'd already given it all away in more ways than one. Despite his desperate attempts to keep them out, other feelings started crowded in around the anger and turning it different colors. Black instead of red. Sad and empty and reminded of how goddamn lonely he'd been for 99% of his entire life. Bitter.]

Lucifer:

[Lucifer watched him closely for danger--he had to--but sensed the shift soon enough. Decided not to...get snarky. Not pounce the bit of weakness showing. Instead he reached down, after letting Stan stew a little bit, he straightened his clothing out to grasp his arms and draw him back up to his feet. Quiet. Leaning up on toes to not so gently knock his forehead to Stan's and stay there. Okay.]

Stan:

[He deserved exactly zero of the mercy being shown him, but still couldn't appreciate it correctly. Still couldn't think outside of the way his thoughts were swirling. Keeping his eyes shut against the close proximity, keeping his mouth shut for once and that was how you knew it was bad. Finally muttered out through gritted teeth.] This is stupid. It's gone too far.

Lucifer:

[Lucifer didn't like those words. Not one bit. But he knew what they meant. They meant that Stan was scared and genuine and scared because it was genuine. He did not know what to do about that. Or what was spurning the deity on to say it. Even as a frantic small voice in his own mind started to make him brace, physically, against the inevitable. The big toss. Which garbage can came next? There were no more, right? So where did he go this time? 

 His hands slid off of Stan's arms and down to his wrists. Bringing hands up to settle around his neck. Then leaned his forehead away and dropped his own hands away from the other entirely. Maybe if he just...stopped...he wouldn't be tossed. So he closed up and looked down. And didn't say anything.]

Stan:

[He'd probably say something about Ash's taunting being the catalyst but in reality it was him realizing just how deep his feelings ran. He was scared, he was fucking terrified, and just like when he'd tried to cut Lucifer out of his life after nearly eating him in a jealous rage, he found himself standing at a precipice. He could either acknowledge what was happening and accept it.... or try to cut ties again. 

 But cutting ties hadn't worked the last time. They'd still just gravitated back to each other. 

 When he realized what Lucifer was offering it felt like someone reached up from his stomach and grabbed his heart. (Which was strange because he really didn't think he actually had one.)] 

 NO. 

[He snarled and snatched his hands back away like Lucifer's throat was pure fire. Then a second later they were back again, squeezing this time, the unspoken words ringing through Stan's head: if you don't want me then just kill me if you don't want me then just kill me if you don'twantmejustkillme--] 

I CAN'T. OKAY???? I FUCKING.... 

[Stopped just short of squeezing hard enough to crush his windpipe, pressure finally releasing as actual fucking tears gathered in his eyes. That was the worst thing of all. He felt like he was in his own little hell that someone had made just for him. He felt like dying. He was so fucking scared. 

 Fell forward and rested his head on Lucifer's shoulder in defeat. Snuffling a little.] I can'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't. I couldn't before, you fuck. I couldn't even do it before and it's WORSE now.

Lucifer:

Hck! [The squeeze was good. The squeeze was good. Stan hadn't left. Hadn't thrown him away. Lucifer hadn't conceptualized more than 'then hurt me', but he'd be a liar if he said 'if you don't want me just kill me' wasn't somewhere in the murkiest and blackest parts of the still fractured depths of his psyche. 

He was ready for his hyoid to snap and for his tunnel vision to turn dark in the second before his neck was released and none of that happened. Took a second for enough air to reach his brain to have a constructive thought about Stan's head on his shoulder. 

 No, that wasn't quite right. Not quite the time for it. Stan was supposed to be hurting him. Not on the verge of collapse and tears. He tried to help Stan. By manifesting dagger made from the deity's stolen tooth and plunging it into his side. Growling in his ear. Twisting.] Don't make this difficult. [He hissed. Only a slight crack in his voice. He was trying to turn the clock back. Turn it back or kill Lucifer. He didn't know what else he could do for Stan. Trying to do anything for him.]

Stan:

[What Stan really needed was just what Lucifer had teased him about when they first met. 'I know... You just want comfort...' The words had been a weapon then, poking at some soft place in him, but they had been true. They were true now. He needed to be told is alright to feel this way, it was okay to be a little vulnerable. To be Known and Seen. He needed to feel safe. 

This was a kind of safe. It was the only kind he could see right now and he clung to it, even though Lucifer's words were like a death knell. The pain in his side from his own goddamn tooth, from the tooth that Lucifer had taken as a token and a trophy and a keepsake, only fed into the renewed sense of anger and bitterness. Only rekindled the rage at himself and at Ash and at Lucifer that threatened to eat him up whole, and even though his host body felt like dropping to it's knees he held it up. Forced Fenton to stand even as mouth in his stomach manifested through the human's skin, even as it stretched open and uncoiled it's long tongue to wrap around the hand that stabbed him and yank. 

Gonna pull that arm in up to it's elbow and CHOMP. Still so close he could smell that scent Lucifer always had in his shampoo. Could see the highlights in those gold eyes. Could hear that little minute break in Lucifer's voice but still not understand it's betrayal.]

Lucifer:

[Stan would be safe! He'd be safe! From even Lucifer! It's a feverish thought that flashing through him when his arm is taken off by that mouth. Rending a scream of pain from him. It was not often his lost limbs. The pain blinds him a moment.

The clock moved back. 

Before the tongue had gotten him, he had let go of the knife in a hair split decision. That was his knife. He wasn't losing it. Left it in Stan's side as the arm had been taken from him. The secondary hand snatched the knife out of Stan's side to keep it. Frantic in grip even as he stabbed him again with it. This time with a hard momentum driven push to get him to back up. To get space. 

Other two hands clutching at the stump of his arm. A wild look in his face. What had he done? Did he do the right thing? Was this better or worse? Golden gaze flicking over Stan's face to know--was he still afraid? He would take angry and vengeful and hateful--hate can be a kind of love. Eli and Stan had both taught him that.] It's better. It's better! Safer! [Little shocked delirium making his mouth run.] No one will hurt you! [Oooh, fuck, Stan would hurt him, though. He'd hurt him. But he could take it. He always had. His stare went off Stan and down to the knife in his hand. Slippery and black coated. The Fallen eyed it a little too much like someone with a one bullet gun might. Like he might stick it in his mouth. 

Whole head racing. Anything for Stan. It's an echo of the last day of the civil war. Comes from somewhere in his Heart that just wants to Do Anything for Them. Sadly, it was often the Wrong side.]

Stan:

[The clock ticked backwards with each passing second. Stan had forgotten what Angelic blood tasted like. It always tasted like Eli. It made him want to weep. It made him want more of it. 

The second stab hit somewhere vital in Fenton and he stumbled back a step or two. His face was wracked with anger, with pain. With the kind of surprise that only mortal wounds bring about in a person. But no fear. Not right then. 

Right then he was operating off the same kind of adrenaline and despair fueled mania that Lucifer seemed to be caught in, only barely able to register the meaning of the Fallen's words. They made sense, in a way. They made sense. He couldn't kill Lucifer though. Couldn't kill him but he could hurt him. He could hurt him over and over and he'd just keep coming back for more, he'd come crawling back, begging for more, and Stan would feel nothing while he violated him. 

It wasn't true of course but he believed it for long enough to manifest his pitchfork. Use the space that Lucifer had created between the two of them to skewer the tines of the weapon into Lucifer's chest. Aiming for his heart gem with the middle one.] 

That's right. 

[He was quiet.] 

No one's gonna hurt me ever again.

Lucifer:

[Lucifer, upon seeing the pitchfork driving toward him, had enough damn intelligence to move to one side. Enough to defend himself. As much as his mania wanted to die there's other parts of him that wanted to live. Because Rook. Because his children. Because Raphael. Because Stan. 

He didn't evade it entirely. The tine hit the gem at a glance and a chip came away. Cleaving off the whole from a fissure that had been there from Lucifer's own deliberate actions some centuries ago. 

The memory of it did not gentle the excruciating agony of the separation. It far over shadowed his arm and the  pierce of the other two prongs. 

Dimmed his eyes and he lost his own ability to stand of his own accord. Hanging limply on the pitchfork. Barely keeping hold of the knife in one of his hands. The scream that came out of him was a rare one. He had the advantage of warning when he'd done it to himself. This was sudden and would take more than a moment to recover from. 

Shard still in the meaty parts of his chest. Throbbing to the same beat as the heart gem. Not yet fully far away enough to become more rigid. 

Lucifer couldn't barely breath. Velvety blue blood aplenty on his clothing, his cracked armor under, his copper skin, the ground. The blood pooling on the ground was about all he could see. His head was too heavy to keep upright.

Happy? About it. Stan was safe again. No one would question the deity. Not while Lucifer was painted in that blue blood again. He couldn't muster hate for Stan again, but he could love him like this too. He was sure.]

Stan:

[Sure enough, the thousand and one prying eyes that followed every notable figure in Hell caught every detail. The secret finders, the path makers, the souls who gossiped too much as humans and got Karen from across the street in trouble with her husband. They would spread the news like wildfire and soon everyone would know; Lucifer was as good as dumped. 

They'd had fights before but no one had ever heard of Stan actually going for a killing blow. They'd never seen Prince Lucifer hanging limply from Stan's Fork like a broken rag doll. What few words had been said just solidified the rumor. The entire pit of Hell would be buzzing within hours. 

Stan was safe again. 

Then why the absolute FUCK did he feel like his entire world was falling apart? Why did it hurt so bad to see Lucifer like that, to think he might have actually skewered that gem? He knew, he knew, and he tried to rail against it even then, but despair completely consumed him then. A kind of darkness passed over his mind because Lucifer really did look dead. Close to death. He didn't know oh Eli please help him he didn't know he couldn't think, he could only pull those metal spikes back out of Lucifer's chest and let the body fall to the ground. Blood flowing much quicker and freer now. Royal blue staining everything. It's all he could see. 

His own blood was dripping down his legs at a volume that should have been concerning. It wasn't. He didn't have enough energy to do much about it anyway. That darkness passed down from his eyes to his heart and all the way down to his feet. Those feet decided standing up didn't matter anymore either, and the room was spinning too much and his hands were shaking, so he fell clumsily to the floor beside Lucifer.

Managed to get his head laid down on Lucifer's chest. Wanting to cry but unable to after six thousand years of holding it back. Breath coming out ragged and broken though, and fingers curling into Lucifer's torn shirt. 

Soon there would be lower demons coming in to make sure Stan got an emergency soul or two, enough to keep the host alive anyway. They'd probably realize Lucifer was still alive and bring him one too, since that respect was still afforded him. Even if he wasn't Stan Favorite Pet anymore. If anything Lucifer had just earned a few more honor points of his own, especially from those who were already favorable of him. He was the scorned lover. The underdog. The survivor. 

That would all be for later though. For now the messengers were all running to Tell and Stan was left on his knees again. Whispering the same thing he'd said not too long ago, in the same intimate voice, but broken.] 

I hate you.

Lucifer:

[The other two prongs had punctured his lungs. He was having trouble breathing when they were gone. Much more wet and wheezy. He'd fallen down on his side when the fork was taken away. 

He didn't afford the helpful demons any kindness, but he ate the soul given. He had to. He was damaged on an unusual, in the last few years, scale. 

He didn't say a damn thing until the room was empty. When he felt that it was. Then one of his cleaner hands (aside from his own blood) came up to his chest. And he jammed into flesh. Fishing around with winces and swallowed back sobs. 

The pain was not comparable to the cracking. He found the broken away chunk. Rattling for air as he pressed it into Stan's palm while the man was speaking so quietly to him. Exhausted by then. Soul or no soul to eat.]

Stan:

[He didn't want it. He'd already eaten half of one of Lucifer's arms. He didn't want any other reminders of the fact that they used to-- that they were-- 

That they were. 

He kept it anyway. Usually a sadist through and through, it was one of the most masochistic things he'd done in a long while in a long while. Everything was only made marginally better by the slowly dawning knowledge that Lucifer wasn't going to die. He choked back a couple souls himself, taking no pleasure in them, and got to the point where Fenton wasn't having a mini panic attack in the back of his head. Got to the point where he could finally think a little.] 

I wish I never met you. I wish you never Fell. I wish-- I fucking wish that it could just be okay, but it's not. It can't be. We can't be. Not like that. So it has--it has to be like this I guess. It has to be. I know... I know what you fucking did. And I wish I really did kill you for it because even now you're-- Even fucking now you're the only source of fucking light in this god forsaken place and I-- 

[Voice started breaking again and he curled his hands into fists. The shard poking into his palm and drawing blood and making him squeeze harder. After a moment he lifted his head to Lucifer's. Pressed lips against his forehead. Not to kiss, but to feel them move in an absolutely soundless lip sync to the words that had been Singing brokenly inside him for the longest time and never able to get free of his damn mouth because demons didn't Sing. They had nothing to sing about. But these words were free now, even though they fell into silence and (as far as Stan was concerned) a burned bridge. 

'Thank you. I love you.'

When he stood up again his face had lost all emotion. Drained out of him and into those words. Shard still in his hand as he swayed a little on his feet, and then finally righted himself. Pointing down at Lucifer and saying in a voice that everyone could hear, whether they were listening attentively or not.] Now leave me. The fuck. Alone.

Lucifer:

[Oh, oh boy. Stan thought he understood. Thought he got it. Maybe he got part of it. But that piece in his hand? He was ignoring the fuck out of that, wasn't he. 

Every bit of his glamours dropped. Scars to the wings to the mismatched horns. 

Stan could say all that, but it only bolstered Lucifer in the long run. The Fallen hauled with remaining hands and wings up to his feet. Unsteady and stepping in close to Stan again. A certain glint and fire in his gaze. If a little unfocused for pain and exhaustion.]

No.

Stan:

[He sure was ignoring it. Mixed up between what Should Be and what Had to be and what Might Be Said or Not Said between them. But Lucifer standing up like that... he couldn't ignore that. Couldn't squeeze that in his hand, that strength that love was staring him straight in the face and finally 

FINALLY 

he couldn't run anymore. He thought he'd made his decision about what to do when he'd chomped down on Lucifer's arm. When he'd ran him through and potentially shattered him. But apparently... apparently he hadn't. Because instead of strike Lucifer back down to the floor again, he cast squinted and equally exhausted eyes to either side of them. Extending a little Will to make sure they were still really alone. Bit his lip a little and squeezed his hand again, feeling the shard bite into his flesh a little further as if to say "Uh, duh." 

He closed the distance between them in a swift motion to actually kiss him this time, but with teeth. Sharp teeth in his throat, in a bite that was as vicious and possessive and furious as he'd ever been. A bite that could easily be mistaken as a further attempt to maim Lucifer rather than mark him. That was all the indication he was going to give of his final thoughts on the matter. He loved him. He loved him and he couldn't run from it anymore, and even if they had to fake a few things and even if Lucifer had been ready to literally sacrifice himself and EVEN IF THE MULTIPLE PITS OF HELL HAD TO THINK HE DIDN'T IN ORDER FOR HIM TO FEEL LIKE IT WAS OKAY... 

He did. It was a hateful, angry, spiteful love but it was a love and it was only for Lucifer.]

Lucifer:

[The kiss told him that Stan got it. He got it. Lucifer returned it with anger of his own, but ultimately lacked the strength to keep being vicious and vehement. 

He made a reflexive grab at Stan's shirt, but he was soon on the ground again. In a boneless heap. Not able to even leverage a wing under himself. 

The damage to the heart gem was not inconsiderable to his over all ability to function. Not something he could bounce back from right away.]

Stan:

[Stan went off to nurse his own wounds. The clock that had previously went back a year or two bounced right back to the present with a swiftness that had him nauseous. Already regretting the loss of Lucifer's arm. Tentatively letting himself feel that regret for a moment or two instead of finding something to scream mindlessly into and going back to cut another arm off, just to spite his heart. 

Maybe Lucifer thought that they'd reset things but that wasn't the case at all. Something had been very violently birthed and, from this point on, there was no more turning the clock back.]

Lucifer:

[Maybe, then, Lucifer was under a type of delusion of his own, but he couldn't...curse it. He hadn't been thrown away. (Again.) That was all he could hope for. 

It would take several hours and many souls for him to retreat himself into his Palace. Where he would be resting for a while more. A bath somewhere in the mix. And being glad it was the arm he didn't usually manifest that got chomped on that side. (He felt a little less attractive under his glamour, but there was little to do about it.) ]

[mcgrathandwives]

Home.

Request: This is probably tmi but I literally just kinda sorta got broken up with and I was wondering if I could request some Danvers Sisters comforting Baby!Danvers reader because apparently this is how I deal with emotions. Cheerio!

A/n: aren't they adorable? God I love them.

Also I hope this is okay, it's not out right comforting but it's the best I could do with this writers block.

--------

Eliza knew something wasn't right when you turned up on her door with no notice. She knew something was wrong when her eyes landed on the 5 suitcases and fresh tear tracks on your face and so just like she did everytime you came home or felt heartbroken, she wrapped you in her arms. No words were shared between you, you just let the tears roll. An hour later you were found passed out on the sofa, wrapped in Alex's college sweater and Kara's old blanket. Eliza knew you were out for the count, so she decided to make a phone call.

-----

Alex burst through Kara's door, starling everyone but her sister. "Alex?" the look of panic on the older Danvers face and the bag in her hand was enough for Kara to not ask any questions. "Mom called, we need to go to Midvale." With that Kara collected her things and Lena promised she'd cover the work load at the DEO and Catco.

Kara wrapped her arm around Alex and took off making a direct B-line for their family home. They got there for a little after midnight, before they could ask why they were there Kara's eyes landed on your sleeping body, "Y/n." Instantly they bombarded Eliza with questions, to which she had no answers to give.

They decided to camp out in the living room with you, so when you woke up you wouldn't be alone. They knew that you wouldn't just show up with no notice- something must've happened. So your sisters sat watching you sleep as worry consumed them.

----

Morning rolled round, Alex went out for her jog and Kara was found on the porch watching the birds fly just like she did everyday since she landed on Earth. Her attention however was on you, listening to your heartbeat, she hadn't heard it this loud in so long, it felt like old times.

You however woke up with a pounding in your head. You spent the flight from Washington to Midvale getting drunk off your ass, trying oh so hard to drown your sorrows in those minature bottles. Your now ex-girlfriend had been cheating on you for months and you had only just found out, you knew the relationship was a little rocky lately but you just thought it was a phase, a funk that you'd pull out of- she thought other wise. So spent the entire argument packing your bags and leaving going to the only place you could think of to clear your head. Home.

You poured yourself a glass of water and made your way to the porch, you could hear muffled voices but thought nothing of it assuming it to be your mom on a call or something but to your surprise when you opened the door there stood your sisters. "Morning kiddo." Normally you'd give Alex a lecture about the nickname but today it was exactly what you needed. Kara was the first to pull you into a hug and when Alex joined it that's when you let the tears fall.

You stood on the porch wrapped in your older sisters arms, crying for a good 20 minutes before they suggested you went inside so you could tell them what happened.

Slumping back onto the sofa, you finished your rant, "So yeah, now I'm 24 years old, got fired from my job in Washington, single and now having to move back in with my mom because my ex has a new girlfriend, our apartment and tried to make the whole break up my fault because I wasn't paying her enough attention." Your sisters were livid trying to wrap their heads around the situation. Pulling you closer into her side Kara whispered in your ear "I'll throw her into space, just say the word and I will." You knew she was only saying it to make you smile and it worked, Kara had always had that affect on you. No matter what mood you were in Kara always made you smile.

You had still felt a little tired so you excused yourself from your sisters and went to bed, the nap would do you good. Whilst you were resting Alex had suggested they clean up a little and work on making you feel better. Kara already had an idea on where Alex was going with it so they wrote a list and got to work.

------

"Quickly Alex she's coming!", Kara was jumping in the one spot, listening for your footsteps.

Alex was already frustrated with her task and found Kara's enthusiasim to be just a little too annoying, "You this would get done faster if you used your superspeed-"

"I swear it's like I've travelled back in time to living in a house with 3 teenagers again!" And Eliza- just like old times on family movie night would roll her eys at her older daughters whilst Alex shot a glare at her alien sister.

"We're sorry Eliza, we just want this to be perfect." Kara held that same glimpse of innocence she always has. You noticed it as you came down the stairs the only thing missing was your dad.

Seeing the 3 women who changed your life, standing infront of you just like they had the day you left to start your life in Washington brought tears to your eyes.

"What's going on?" Eliza made her way over to you, kissing the top of your head and wrapping her arms around you, "Your sisters have a surprise for you. If you need me I'll be in my office." Turning to her other daughters, "Best behaviour!" A chuckle left your lips when you noticed the same cheeky grins on their faces, "No promises."

Once Eliza left, Kara pulled you over to the kitchen counter, "We have the choice of chinese food, pizza, movies, Scotch and the equivalent for me or we can do shots, cocktails and hide out in the kareoke fort." A smile spread across your face- only your sisters would come up with some way of making the shittiest week of your life turn into something pretty decent.

"Or- and this is just because Kara doesn't think you can handle it- we can do both and I'll even throw in the bottle of that Aldebaran rum that M'gann got Kara for Christmas!" A devilish smirk sat on the older Danvers face, "NO!"

"YES!" and with a flash of those puppy eyes that Kara can't resist, Alex passed the two of a glass, "Before I forget I spoke to Lena, she's looking for someone to run PR for Catco and L-Corp. She said the job's yours if you're willing to move to National City with us."

"Oh and J'onn said that you can stay in his apartment since he's moving in with M'gann- since y'know you don't have anywhere to stay and it's exactly 3 block from the DEO, 5 blocks from Catco and L-Corp and 2 streets from both mine and Kara's apartments." You grabbed both of your sisters in another bone crushing hug, "I love you guys."

"We love you too."

And so the 3 of you found yourselves drunk and singing along to whatever musical Kara put on. Your sisters knew you didn't want to go into details of everything but they knew you'd eventually talk about it when you're ready to, they also knew that with you moving to National City with the, you'd be safe, happy and feel like yourself again.

The rest of your time in Midvale was spent with your family, dinners, movie nights, hugs and some much needed catch ups.

Eliza had her 3 girls back together again.

Alex had her family back in arms reach.

Kara had the 3 people she loved more than she could ever think possible by her side again.

And you found yourself again.

You were home.

[crochetcrickethip]

“Go ahead and keep it...”

Hindsight is 20/20.

Sandy and I met in highschool; it was one of those friendships to help pass the time in classes. All I had to remember her by was some guy we both mutually thought was “hott”, when I started to receive random messages. I had been away at college and was making plans to move back home. I needed a fresh start and a quick friend was just the thing to help.

I have to admit that I was pretty ignorant and not self aware in my youth. I didn’t think about how actions (mine or other) effect other people. I loved gossip and trivial things, as well as talking to hear my own voice and not really listening. I needed to fall to learn how high I was on these thoughts. As I started to grow as a person, I noticed those around me who were not changing. Sandy was not changing, I had actually noticed more wrong than when we started. Her intense OCD and anxiety emotions were overwelming me quickly. I tried to accept her for who she is, but she did not make it easy.

Long story short, she had a huge fancy wedding and I was not the maid of honor, but I did a lot of work. I received not even a thank you nor any acknowledgment. I felt used. I tried to get over it but it was always nagging me. I felt that I had done so much and hardly even received emotional availability in return. When it came time for my big day, I was excited to get Sandy’s expertise in all things wedding. She lived right next to the dress shop and I invited her to help me pick out a dress, on a day she helped choose. When I called to confirm the meet up, I received a “I’m not feeling well” message. That day was the worst day of the whole year, my mother is a monster. I was forced to go with her instead and I cried, sobbed and wanted to die for 4 hours, it was retched. The next week I met up with Sandy and I asked her about her week. She proceeded to tell me that on the day in question, she took a nap and walked the dog and played a video game because they were moving soon and she just needed to relax.

I was livid. She would always go on and on about what a good person she is, and how she was always there for her friends. NOT! She ditched me like a cigarette but! After that, I decided to “call in sick” the following day from helping them move so I could lay around and walk the cat.

In the end, Sandy was pissed that they had to move with only 2 people and she made me feel like only she was allowed excuses. If she had just accepted that I didn’t want to help, I just wanted to chill, she and I could have probably continued friends. I don’t have time for petty fights about he said she said so I walked away.

Now, two, almost three years later, I’m still being harassed with countless changed phone numbers calling/texting me as well as several emails bothering me. I removed myself from Facebook and have been hiding in the tumblr. It’s a damn shame that a person has to hide their face in sorrow to avoid being harassed.

[k-i-s-m-e-t]

hi :) 32: “ I came to say goodbye. ”, please :D

I’m sorry this took forevaaaa. Just a note, the guys are older here 19/20.

“So how long are you going to be gone this time?”



If He Tian heard the question, he didn’t acknowledge it, attention focused as he continued hastily stuffing clothes into a black duffle. The room itself was in borderline disarray: drawers yanked open and upturned, shirts and pants strewn across the floor, clearly by someone on a mission.

The silence, save for the rustling of the duffle and pull of a zipper, was uncomfortable. Obviously He Tian knew he was there. Mo cupped an elbow awkwardly, loudly cleared his throat.

He Tian sighed and glanced up briefly, finally granting Mo’s presence his attention. He placed the bag aside and sat back on his heels, eyes still flickering over the items that littered his bedroom floor, searching. 



“Probably the same as usual, you know I won’t have the full scope until I get there.”



“Where’s there?”



“…you know I can’t tell you that.”

Right.



Mo sat on the bed, laid back. The sheets were still warm like He Tian had just risen from a nap.

In the past he would have let his temper flair, resort to violence in order to mold out the response he wanted. With time though he had learned He Tian was not one to tell him what he wanted to hear.

It was quiet for a bit but he felt anxious, his stomach twisted.

When he spoke however, his voice was steady, “When were you going to tell me you were leaving?”



There was a much longer stretch of silence between them this time before He Tian spoke.



“I wasn’t planning to.”



Mo closed his eyes at that, felt himself sink further into the sheets. Of course He Tian couldn’t be bothered to share this development, but god he was tired of stopping by He Tian’s apartment, using the gifted key to let himself in only to find it empty. Tired of spending the next few days staring at unsent texts, his fingers hovered, debated on hitting ‘send’.

When he opened his eyes He Tian was staring down at him.



“Isn’t that how I usually operate?” There was a smile on his lips but no real emotion behind it.



“And it’s always been a problem, hasn’t it?”



He Tian looked away. “Who told you?”



“No one, actually.”



He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess Zhan? Jian Yi’s going too and he holds secrets like a sieve.”



“No… I… look no one told me.” He just barely managed to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he managed. “I was just passing by.”



Mo sat up, eyes trained on He Tian’s waist. He Tian always made the subtlest of things like direct eye contact intimate, and he couldn’t handle that right now.



“My dad’s getting out sooner than we expected. …this weekend actually.”



“Congrats,” He Tian said, “I’m happy for you. I’m sure you’re mo-”



“But he’s doesn’t want to stay in this city anymore,” Mo interrupted “too many bad memories …we’re moving.”

“Oh…” He Tian started.



“I… I might.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t be here when you get back is what I mean,” Mo said, voice resolute.



He Tian crossed to the other side of the room under the guise of retrieving an item from his dresser. He didn’t know how to respond, Mo leaving had never been part of the equation.



Mo sighed, spoke again, trying to fill those achingly long lapses in conversation. It didn’t need to be this drawn out.

“I can’t keep waiting for you He Tian.” Despite the attitude fueling it, he sounded uncertain, like he’s not even sure that was what he’d been doing.



“Who asked you to stay?” It was rougher than He Tian intended -he had to keep swallowing to keep his throat from closing up.  



Mo looked livid at that… then tired.



“I want you to ask me to stay.” He brought his gaze up level with He Tian’s this time, mouth set in a firm line.



“I can’t ask you to do that, you can’t anchor yourself in one place over just one person.” He Tian insisted.



“You’re not just a person… not to me.” Mo said hesitantly, words tripping off his tongue.



“It’s funny, the way you act sometimes I’m hard pressed to believe you actually miss me when I’m gone.”

“Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t care? If you meant nothing to me?”

That had He Tian moving, stumbling in his eagerness. He fetched up between Mo’s legs instantly, a hand cupping his cheek.

“You know even if you leave, I’d find you.” There was a dark promise in his words that made Mo swallow, heat pool low in his gut.

He Tian could feel Mo’s body shudder at that as he pressed his cheek further into his palm.

“You don’t need to find me, I’m already here.”



“You know,” Mo said, voice hoarse as he positioned himself, long legs straddling He Tian’s waist, “I came to say good bye.”

“But-”

Mo’s breath hitched as he sank back; steady hands gripped his waist, guiding as gravity pulled him down to the hilt.

“You always manage to be a distraction,” he panted through clenched teeth, fingers sliding to grip into dark hair as his head slipped back, spine curved.He Tian wet his lips as he marveled at the display before him. He trailed fingers up Mo’s chest to lightly grip his throat.

“You came twice already; good byes can wait.”

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