#my mom spent all day cooking and shes such a good cook but the smell of everything made me fucking yartz

[cinemacrypt]

Just got food poisoning/stomach bug the day before thanksgiving,, fuck my stupid baka life

[vampyrial]

Sugar

summary: cooking for someone is the sweetest expression of love.

pairing: mark grayson x gn!reader

content warnings: soft yan!reader, poisoning, gaslighting, caretaking, fluffy if you ignore that reader is a lil crazy

author’s note: I never posted this here but in honor of s2 of invincible, here’s this fic I wrote after s1 😵‍💫 my first mark fic

Mark remembered his mom making pancakes on the weekends. It was his favorite breakfast when he was a kid. There was less time for sit down breakfasts as he grew older and spent more time outside the house working, going to school or hanging out with William, it remained a nostalgic thing for him. The smell of butter, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot pan, he hadn’t realized he missed it.

Not until he woke up to the clattering of pans downstairs. Debbie was out for the day already, busying herself with work. As of late, the house had become stifling and she felt ill at ease. Mark was mostly left to his own devices for food and Mark being Mark, mostly subsisted on take out.

You had slept over (in the guest room, per Debbie’s request) and woken up early to make breakfast. Into the dry ingredients, you added a vial of powder as white as flour. You sprinkled it all in, hand inside the bowl, careful not to let it spill anywhere. You mixed carefully. With a focus as complete as ever, batter dropped onto the pan, sizzling. 

“Making breakfast?” His voice almost made you jump. You thought you were used to him sneaking up on you.

“Good morning to you too, Mark” You smiled to yourself, not looking up at him. “And yes, I’m making you pancakes.”

You didn’t look up but you could tell he was surprised by the pause and the awkward shift of his silhouette.

“I didn't…I know I only eat out these days but I don’t need you to cook for me, I feel kind of like an asshole watching you cook for me in my own house” He mumbled, looking away.

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. I’d feel better if you didn’t eat pizza everyday for breakfast.” 

“It’s not everyday, just…most of the time” He was embarrassed you’d noticed. “Are you not gonna have some?” He changed the topic. 

“I had four bowls of captain crunch at 5am, I’m not exactly sure more sugar is a good idea for me right now.”

You flipped the pancakes onto a plate, sliced a pat of butter onto the top and poured the syrup. Mark, even in his quest to be somewhat gentlemanly, could not resist. The first bite of the buttery pancakes drenched in the syrup evoked strong feelings. Longing, gratitude and love. The yearning for an innocence abandoned and the feeling of being loved was so strong he could cry.

Mark, like most teenage boys, could eat. You silently kept cooking pancakes and he kept eating them. It was a lovely morning, the air was sweet and the sky was a vibrant blue. You spent the day in Mark’s room, in pajamas, tracing shapes over his skin with your fingertips as you watched a marathon of movies he liked. He eagerly explained every gag and bit of trivia. But as the sky began to darken with the day’s end, Mark’s energy declined.

He was sluggish and he felt a bit warm. When he insisted he was alright, you still stayed by his side. A comfort he was secretly grateful for. Even when Debbie came home, fatigued, you kindly asserted that you would stay up with Mark and watch over him. It was only right, Debbie already had enough to deal with and she fussed over Mark until the early hours. If there was anyone she could trust Mark to, it would be you, just while she got some sleep at least.

You wiped the sweat from Mark’s brow with a gentle hand. You brought him water and aspirin, you rubbed his tender muscles, you changed his sheets soaked by sweat. Mark felt like shit but knowing you were there, unperturbed by his frequent vomiting, was a comfort beyond words. You even slept in the same bed as him now, holding his hand, rubbing over it with your fingers. He felt like a kid again, cared for and safe.

Even though after more than a week, Debbie wanted to bring him to the hospital, you waved away her concerns. “Part of this might be coming from Mark’s emotional state after what happened, maybe we have grief to blame for this, in part. Mark doesn’t need a hospital, his symptoms aren’t worse than the stomach flu, he just needs to be cared for” you had said, so convincingly, so knowingly, that it made her hesitate. You only had his best interests at heart. Mark even spoke up and said he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He had been in the hospital so often, he was sick of it. Even the memory of the strong antiseptic smell brought a sense of dread. He would rather be with you, at home being touched by your familiar, healing, hands.

He loved you so much, and told you as much very often. When you were showering with him, washing him because he was too winded; your wet, warm skin carefully cleaning his, he murmured ‘I love you.’ He was vulnerable, tender, worn and tired but he was certain of one thing. He couldn’t live without your warmth. Everyone else counted on him, they needed something from him and if he failed to deliver he’d be letting them down. It’d be another fuck up to add to the roster and yet another time someone he loved would look at him like a loser. But with you, he felt the closest thing to unconditional love he had ever experienced from anyone besides his mom. You didn’t care who he decided to help or what he messed up, you would always accept him. Even if you weren’t always pleased with what he did, you never judged him harshly for his mistakes. For his wins or his fails, you loved him. Mark thought it was way more than he deserved and part of him really did regret his actions more in the face of your forgiveness. He did feel like such an asshole when he found comfort in your acceptance, when you consoled him as if he really deserved it. But fuck if he didn’t need it.

He obviously couldn’t rush off saving people like he had, so he stayed safely inside. His world was small and manageable. His body was whole, if aching and feverish. That was what you intended. For Mark to be safe. He was always putting himself in danger like it didn’t matter, running off to save the world like no one else. Sometimes he would come back intact and sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes he was a hair’s breadth away from death. But Mark didn’t want to stay put, you weren’t strong enough to protect him directly and you couldn’t order him to. What were you to do?

A bit of poison wouldn’t do him in, in fact, you were certain it wouldn’t even keep him down very long. But buying even this amount of time was a blessing. You wanted to keep him safe, keep him inside forever if that’s what it took but that wouldn’t work. For now, you were just buying a little time and some peace of mind. You tell yourself you were driven to this.

A few days later, Mark’s strength had recovered somewhat. You fed him soup and he kept all of it down. He was relieved to be recovering even though he would miss being babied by you and Debbie’s worries eased meaning you were safe from her suspicion. He went back to school, back to saving the world eventually. You waited until enough time passed. Until you could return things to how they should be.

The moment came six months later, the previous night you two had been out with William and Eve. He’d rushed off to the city with Eve while you were in the middle of eating at some greasy pizza joint. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the empty space next to you in the booth. At least Eve was with him, though it was a poor consolation. They were fighting the same aliens they were overwhelmed by a few weeks ago. He came home in one piece, thankfully, but he had been fighting so much lately. Cecil asked so much of him, he’d been flying off to this and that attack. He was bound to be hurt again soon, even just that month there had been threats he’d barely escaped from. It was your misfortune to fall in love with a hero, it meant that he would never really be safe and neither would you.

You called Mark to sleep over at yours when he came back that night. Your mother worked late or sometimes, simply didn’t want to come home so the house was yours. The two of you watched mafia movies, argued about whether the godfather was overrated or not and ate an ungodly amount of popcorn. The following morning, you cooked a big breakfast, muffins, bacon, omelets. Pancakes. 

He ate so hungrily it hurt your heart. He truly did love your cooking. Even though Debbie had gradually started making dinner for him again months ago, he had really missed your cooking. It wasn’t that her’s wasn't delicious, it was just…there was something that made him warm inside about the idea that you should make something for him. That you thought about him, cared about him enough. That much effort wasn’t necessarily a given in a high school relationship. It was new and nice to be with someone who showed their love for him so frankly.

You watched him eat with such a sweet look on your face. You ate with him, an omelette and bacon, for the sake of appearance. Planned out in anticipation of Mark’s tastes and in the interest of keeping suspicion to a minimum, you added your remedy to both the muffins and the pancakes. The muffins had less of it, as you knew Mark would be likely to eat more pancakes than muffins but if he chose to forgo that for the opposite, he would still be made ill. You even had plans for the unlikely event that he chose to eat neither. But Mark wasn’t rude enough to pass up food made for him by someone he loves.

Shortly after breakfast, Mark was in the bathroom vomiting. It seemed far more likely that the pizza joint with the sticky seats and chain smoking cooks gave him food poisoning than anything having been wrong with your food. In his head, it didn’t even occur to him. When you helped him into bed, he felt grateful that he was with you. It was such a relief not to say that he was fine, not to have to be brave. Nobody cared for him as gently as you did. 

Your sheets and your pillows smelled like you. Mark felt weird smelling your things but it was nice to be surrounded by comfort. You washed him in your soap so he smelled like you too. He couldn’t have wanted you more in that moment, he wanted your skin against yours. He wanted your voice, the brush of your fingertips against his. When he was well, he wanted to be someone you would be proud to be with. To be that hero you deserve. When he was this sick, he still had that desire lingering somewhere in the background but he melted down into the barest of wants. And what remained was a need for you, an uncomplicated desire. He felt as if he’d dissolve into your mattress if he couldn’t feel you.

“I’m right here, Mark” You murmured, cleaning the sweat from his chest with a cloth. You have such gentle hands, your eyes stay on his to make sure you’re not hurting him. Under your loving attention, a few tears roll down Mark’s cheek. He can’t help it, you’re always there for him. Without you, who does he have to lean on like this? His mom was already a wreck, Eve had her own problems, William had no idea how to deal with something as big as what he went through — he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. He cannot live without you, who doesn’t understand what he went through but understands what he needs better than anyone.

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” You asked, panicked at his tears. Mark didn’t cry easily, you hadn’t meant to put him in so much pain he’d cry. You had added just enough, you always operated on that balance. Just enough pain, just enough sickness, just enough time.

“No, it’s just-” Mark’s voice was raw. “I’m glad I’m with you, that’s all.”

You softened. Hearing him say that made you melt into a puddle of sticky sweet syrup. It only strengthened your resolve and you were overcome with the need to keep him safe. And with the knowledge that if something happened to him, you would die. When the savage, gruesome fight happened, your stomach was in knots for days while you heard no news. Your heart squeezed painfully as if you were going to have a heart attack and it went on for days. When you slept to escape the constant anxiety, you had nightmares. You didn’t even go to school, you couldn’t get out of bed for anything other than checking whether or not he’d come home. For weeks you lived in hell, thinking you would lose him. And although he was alright that time, a piece of that moment lived in you every time he flew off toward danger. 

“I love you so much, Mark” You bowed your head and rested it against his chest, hearing his strong heart beating. You pressed a kiss there, along the contours of his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you too” He mumbled weakly. There couldn’t be anything sweeter than you.

Your love was falling over him like powdered sugar. These moments, without knowing it, he had come to need them. Being sick was the only time he was allowed to fully be human. No one needed or expected anything of him. Under your care, he could be briefly vulnerable. 

That was all you needed to ease that inkling of guilt that rose in the back of your mind. Who was protecting him like he protected everyone else? No one but you. It was why you had to resort to using underhanded methods, if everyone was trying to protect him, if they only cared — you wouldn’t need to. That was what you reasoned, anyway.

Mark needed you, anyone with eyes could see that. And you had no intention of abandoning him. Whatever you had to do, in your eyes it was all the desperation of a powerless human trying to save the man they love. It was romantic, even. You anticipated the moment where Mark might put two and two together. It made you anxious and you had practiced the speech you’d give him a thousand times. “I love you and I’m scared. I’m so scared for you. I always am." But you soothed yourself with the knowledge that Mark would understand, above anyone else, you’d earned the benefit of the doubt.

Because Mark knew what he needed, even if it was something he couldn’t have expressed on his own. Even if it was something that he shouldn’t. He was only human — even if he was half viltrumite — could he really deny your feelings and his own? No. Not when you were his saving grace. How could he not understand what you were trying to do when his sentiments were nearly the same?

You were watching Mark sleep, laying next to him, his arm around you. His skin was warm and his breaths were labored. You reassured yourself as you pulled the blanket up to his chest. You would take good care of him, he knew that. He had to, he had to know. He just had to.

[heavcnslyre]

chapter two - j.f. ( masterlist )

CRUEL SUMMER.

“fever dream high in the quiet of the night,

you know that i caught it.”

“mind setting the table for me sweetheart?” susannah asks you as you enter the kitchen, freshly changed out of your wet clothes into a swimsuit with flowy shorts and a hoodie over it. you nod and take the plates from her.

“smells good,” you comment, walking past her. “what are you making?”

“garlic parmesan pasta,” she grins. “chicken on the side, too.”

you grin. you always loved susannah’s cooking. laurel never cooked much, which you didn’t blame her for, but you really cherished susannah’s home cooked meals. every summer you made sure you spent a lot of time in the kitchen with her, eager to learn. it was also the best chance you got to bond with her. you have always known that she loves you, of course, but you could also always tell that belly was her favorite. she was the baby of the five of you, which automatically gave her more attention from the moms. also, she spent almost all of her time with them most summers, while you went and hung out with the boys. you didn’t mind, really, but it was sometimes frustrating to see how clearly they favored your little sister over you.

“everyone!” laurel yells up the stairs, “dinners ready!”

there’s a herd of footsteps as the boys come clambering down the stairs, taking their spots at the table. “where belly?” laurel asks. you look towards the glass doors facing the pool and see belly sitting outside, looking out towards the beach. “i’ll get her.”

as soon as you open the door, belly jumps and turns to you. she relaxes when she sees that it’s you and smiles. “hey.”

“hi bells,” you say. “dinners ready. you okay?”

she nods. “yeah, yeah. just thinking. you know.” she exchanges a knowing look with you, and you nod. you really did know. she was thinking about conrad. for as long as you could remember, belly had the biggest crush on conrad, and it always came into full bloom during the summer, not unlike your feelings for jeremiah. you were alike in that way, and there was always unspoken knowledge between the two of you, both of you knowing how the other felt yet rarely discussing it. the sister bond you shared made that easier.

“what’s for dinner?” belly asks, standing from her chair and breaking your train of thought. you open the door for her.

“pasta and chicken.”

“yum!”

after dinner, you excused yourself up to your bedroom to unpack and settle in. after a few hours, which somehow went from you unpacking to completely rearranging your room, there was a knock on your door. “come in!”

“what are you doing?” jeremiah asks, standing in your doorframe with an amused expression on his face. you look around your messy room then shrug.

“rearranging.”

he laughs and shakes his head at you. “you’re insane. ready for a break in your interior design?”

“only if that means it’s beach time.”

“of course that means it’s beach time,” he laughs as you immediately take off your hoodie that was covering your swimsuit and walk past him, out the door.

“let’s go then!”

jeremiah follows you down the stairs, and you smile as you pass by the moms, who were sitting on the couch with belly, watching a movie. “off to the beach?” laurel asks. you nod.

“yup! be back soon.”

susannah blows you both a kiss, “be safe!”

“we will!” you and jeremiah both call out, already out the door. a few minutes later, the two of you were sitting in the sand of the dark beach, listening to the waves crash in front of you.

“best thing and worst thing from your year, go,” jeremiah says suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had been sharing. you consider his question for a minute before answering.

“best thing… got my license! me and belly actually went on a whole day trip to the shops that are a couple hours away, it was super fun,” you say. jeremiah grins.

“licensed! can’t wait to be a passenger princess all summer!” you laugh and shove his arm lightly.

“don’t act like you don’t have your license,” you say. “i fully except you to be driving me around all the time too.”

he nods. “maybe. worst thing, now.”

you shrug. “i don’t know. it was a pretty good year. i guess maybe breaking my wrist in the fall.”

“yeah, no shit that would suck!” jeremiah exclaims. “why didn’t you tell me you did?”

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. “i guess it just didn’t come up.”

“just didn’t come up in the hundreds of texts and facetime calls,” jeremiah shakes his head. “i see how it is.”

you laugh and so does he, then you find yourself in silence again. he was staring forward into the water but you turned your head and stared at him, picking up on every feature of his. his eyes sparkled, reflecting the moonlight. his whole face was soft, relaxed, and you loved seeing him like this. he was always putting on a show, trying to entertain the world around him, but in moments like this when it was just the two of you, he was more vulnerable. you loved it. you hate that you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re with peter now, and happy, so you can’t think of jeremiah like that anymore.

you clear your throat to break the silence. “your turn. best and worst of the year.”

“oh, that’s easy,” he says, meeting your gaze. “best was when i got moved up to varsity football this past season. got to play with connie. it was incredible.”

“jere!” you exclaim, “that’s amazing! forget my damn wrist, you could’ve told me that earlier!”

“i was kinda caught up in it,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s why i never really could call you during the football season. let it get to my head pretty bad, but it was okay in the end.”

“no shame in being proud of yourself for something great,” you assure him. “we just gotta get better at updating each other on the big things in our lives, not just the little random things.”

“you mean i shouldn’t just call you to tell you i saw a taylor swift lookalike at chipotle?”

“oh, no,” you say. “you totally still need to tell me that. but like, mention the other life changing things too.”

“deal,” jeremiah says, smiling as you catch his gaze. his expression was always soft when he looked at you. you would never let yourself admit it, but you had never seen him look at anyone else the same way before. you didn’t want to start thinking that, though. it would get your hopes up too much. but it didn’t even matter now. peter.

“worst thing?” you ask. he sighs.

“i guess when conrad quit the football team.”

your eyes widen. “what?! why?”

he shakes his head, suddenly defeated. his whole demeanor changed, and it was clear that this was really weighing down on him. “i don’t know. i wish i knew. he’s just been so…different, lately. we used to hang out and he was so excited for me to be on the team with him. then it’s like a flip switched. suddenly he’s so cold to me, like, always. wont even look at a football. didn’t come to a single one of my games after he quit— which was mid season, did i mention? he barely even talks to me or mom anymore. seeing you guys today was the happiest i’ve seen him in forever.”

“oh, jere,” you say softly, studying his expression. you had noticed a change in conrad today, too, but you didn’t know if it was in your head or not. he had seemed so happy around belly, or laurel, but otherwise he was more closed off than usual. you couldn’t imagine what jeremiah was feeling, having to watch his best friend drift away from him like that. “have you talked to him about it?”

he shrugs. “he won’t ever say anything. acts like nothing is wrong with him. i don’t know. i just feel terrible for mom. she’s so, lost, i guess. like, when she was sick, he was kinda the rock in the family. he’s always been the most levelheaded. losing that support…i don’t know. it’s weird. i’m trying to be better at stuff like that for her, but i’m not conrad. i can’t be as good as him.”

“that’s one thing you can’t start believing, that you’re not good enough,” you say. “you’re both just as important to your family as the other. just because he handles different things as you doesn’t mean that he’s better. with the other stuff…i don’t know, jere. he’s levelheaded, yeah, but he’s also crazy stubborn. when he’s caught up in his head about something there’s no getting him out.”

“don’t i know it,” he grumbles. then, he shakes his head and looks at you, a calmer expression on his face. “thank you, (y/n). conrad is too complicated to figure out usually. i really appreciate you listening,” he grabs your hand. “i’ve missed you so much. just talking about that makes me feel better.”

you squeeze his hand. “of course. you know you can always talk to me.”

your silence this time is broken by your phone buzzing. then buzzing again. and again. you sigh. “sorry, thought i silenced this.”

pulling out your phone, you see that the texts are from peter.

peter: (y/n) :((

peter: u promised to call me every night at 10

peter: what are u doing???

“oh shit,” you mumble, pulling your hand away from jeremiah to text back. he looks at you, concerned.

“is everything okay? who is it?”

you nod. “it’s um, peter.”

“peter?” he asks. “who’s peter?”

“my,” you hesitate, still staring at your phone. “my uh, boyfriend.”

jeremiah visibly stiffens, moving slightly away from you. “boyfriend, huh?” his tone is no longer warm. his voice is strained, and he stares out into the water. “didn’t mention that in the best thing from your year. or in any of our facetimes, or texts.”

“it’s fairly new,” you explain, still attempting to avoid looking at him. the air between you two felt weird, suddenly. less comfortable. “um, i was gonna mention it at some point tonight. i just was waiting to see how it went with him.”

“yeah.”

with that, jeremiah suddenly stands up and stretches. “i could really go for a swim,” he looks down at you, a forced smile on his face. “i am really happy for you, (y/n). c’mon, come swim.”

but he didn’t wait for you to follow him. he turned away quickly and took big steps towards the water. as soon as he was in it deep enough, he dove under a wave, staying under the water for a concerning amount of time, before coming up for air, and doing it again. you sigh. you weren’t sure what that was about, but you weren’t about to make it worse. you quickly text peter back, then turn off your phone, following jeremiah into the ocean.

you: got caught up sry call u later

[homeofthelonelywriter]

K.I.A. | Oneshot

(A/N) This one could really hit hard. Please take care of yourself.

Pairing: Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: lots of angst, death of a loved one, depression, grief, alcohol, comfort in the end

Synopsis: I don't think there is a need for a synopsis. The title says it all.

It was supposed to be fine.

It was supposed to be safe.

“It’s going to be a quick and easy mission, love. I’ll be back in no time.”

That’s what he had said.

That’s what he had promised.

But he lied.

The mission wasn’t quick. It wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t be back in no time.

He was dead.

Killed in action, an honorable death.

To hell with them. To hell with their honorable death. Death isn’t honorable, death is death. And now he’s gone. And I’ll never see him again.

It’s his funeral and I can’t even look at them. The ones that survived. Price, Soap, Gaz. They all came back but he didn’t. He didn’t and he never will.

They hand me a flag, folded into a triangle. If I could, I would throw it at their heads. If I could, I would yell at them. If I could, I would I hit them. But I can’t. I can’t do anything, but stand there, hold that stupid flag and cry while they fire off their shots. I can’t do anything.

Well, I can do something. I can lie in bed. I can cry, a lot. I can ignore my hunger until I almost throw up. I can see his shadow, trick myself into thinking that he’s back. That he’s alive.

And I can think of him. Of all the good memories. How we met. The first time we kissed. How he asked me out. Our first date. The birthday he gave me the puppy.

The puppy…at the though of Riley, I sit up. At least until I realise that my mom took her after the funeral. She was safe, cared for. I was alone. So fucking alone.

I don’t know how much time passed, a week? Maybe a month. Perhaps even two.

I finally get up and take a shower. I smell after all.

The shower feels incredibly small without Simon behind me.

And that’s how I start crying again. I sit under the stream for what feels like hours before I finally find the strength to get out and dry off my body before falling back onto my bed.

But now it’s getting better.

I take showers from time to time.

Sometimes I even eat some food. I don’t cook anything, everything I’ve had, had spoiled by now, but I just order in.

It’s been four months since Price stood at my door and told me he was dead. That Simon would never come back. And I’ve finally found a way to dull the pain.

Alcohol isn’t the answer, of course. But for now it’s the only thing that is making me feel even slightly alive.

I spent most my day at the bar nearby, what else am I supposed to do?

Home makes me think about Simon.

Work makes me think about Simon.

Hanging out with my family or friends make me think of Simon.

We had never gone to this bar together, so I’m safe here. And the alcohol drowns out my thoughts of him. Well, most of them anyway. At least it leaves enough sense to find my way back home.

It’s become some sort of ritual. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to the bar, get shitfaced and go back home.

Today isn’t any different. Why should it be? But why…does it feel different.

I usually spend multiple hours there, but today I just want to get back home. After I pay for the drink I actually had, I make my way home. But I feel watched, the whole way back. At least I’ll feel better as soon as I’m in bed.

I unlock the front door and walk inside, not paying any mind to the big shadow standing in the hallway, or to how similar it looks to Simon. Instead, I lock the door behind me and shrug off the jacket I’m wearing, hanging it up.

I walk past the shadow and to the staircase leading up and to the bedroom I share…shared with Simon. But something stops me. One word.

“Love?”

I freeze not moving a single muscle. It can’t be him. But it sounds like him. But he’s dead. But it looks like him.

Stiff, almost like a robot, I turn around and look at the shadow. And I see Simon.

“You’re not real.”

I shake my head and start walking up the stairs.

“Love, it’s me. I’m sorry, I-”

I cut him off as I spin around and slap him across the face. That used to get rid of the hallucinations, but…he’s still here. His head whips to the right from the impact, but he doesn’t move.

“Simon…”

He looks at me. He is here. So I touch him.

I place my hands against his chest, against his beating heart.

And it is beating. He is alive. He is here.

I move my hands to his shoulder. They are as broad and hard as I remember.

I move them to his neck, feel his pulse. He is here. He is alive.

“Simon.”

I only realise that I’m crying when Simon lifts his hands and carefully wipes them away.

“Simon.”

A sob wracks through me and I let him wrap his arms around me.

Another sob and I let him pull me closer.

My body shakes as he holds it to his.

His body. Firm and warm. Hard, covered in muscles.

He is here. He is alive.

“You were dead.”

He tightens his hold on me.

“I know, love. I know.”

I claw at his jacket, trying to get him closer.

“I cried for you.”

Again, his hold tightens.

“I know. I wish I could’ve done something. All I could do was watch.”

I continue to cry and sob in his arms.

At some point, Simon picks me up and carries me upstairs. But not to the bed. To the bathroom.

Carefully, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub before he turns on the shower. With hands, as gentle as I remember them, he undresses me, before he undresses himself.

He navigates me into the shower, before he carefully washes me. All the while, holding me close and consoling me whenever I have another break down.

And then, he leaves me there. He leaves the water on and it feels like he’s gone again. Maybe I just imagined him. Him being here. Him consoling me. Him taking care of me.

But I didn’t.

He joins me in the shower again after ten minutes.

“I just changed the sheets real quick. Let’s get you out of here, princess.”

Once again he picks me up and carries me to the edge of the bathtub. He had placed a towel there, so I don’t feel the cold of the metal when he sets me down.

Carefully, as if I were made out of porcelain he dried my body before he pulled one of his old t-shirts over my head. Once he is dry as well, he carries me into the bedroom and places me on the bed, before he gently tugs me in.

“I’ll be right back, my love. I’ll just get you a glass of water.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead and is about to walk away when I catch his wrist.

“Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”

He turns to look at me and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“Simon, please. I…I can’t loose you again.”

Tears are rolling down my cheeks again. And this is what he needed.

He nods and climbs into bed beside me, immediately pulling me close against his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry my love. I’ll never leave you again. I promise. Never again.”

I nod but continue to sob into his chest. And this is how I fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning, alone in bed.

“Simon? Simon!”

Without thinking, I try to rush to the door, but my feet get tangled in the sheets. I fall to the floor, but get up immediately.

Please let him be there. Please let him be alive. Please.

Please please please please please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple-

“Love? Are you alright?”

He is here. He is alive.

“You…you are here. You are alive.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His arms immediately wrap around me and support my weight completely.

“Ssh, it’s okay my love. I’m here. I promise you I’m here.”

Like a baby, he started to gently bounce me up and down until I slowly started to calm down. Now I know why that works on babies.

For the rest of the morning, I stay there, wrapped securely in his arms, while he cooks pancakes and cleans the dishes. I even eat in his arms.

And even after that, I’m hesitant to leave them. But I do. I let him set me down on the couch and watch him as he flies through the house and cleaned the messes that had accumulated since his ‘death’.

His ‘death’.

“Why?”

Simon stops in his tracks and turns to look at me.

“Why what, my love?”

I sigh, already feeling bad about asking this question. But I need to know.

“Why did you fake your death? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Now Simon sighs. He puts away the broom and sits down next to me.

“There was a mole in the 141 and we had to flush them out. This was the only way we could think of. I’m so so sorry love. I promise, I tried my best to get them to change their mind. Or to at least let me tell you, but the mole…he had to buy it and…”

“They were afraid I wouldn’t fake it well enough.”

Simon nods, sadness clear in his eyes.

I nod. And I can’t say that I don’t understand. I knew what I was getting into when I started dating him. I just never thought it would go that far.

“Si…please never do that again.”

He shakes his head and picks me up, putting me down on his lap.

“Never, princess. I’ll never leave you again. I swear on my grave.”

At that statement I pull back slightly and look at him. His lips were pulled into a slight smile. And then I start laughing.

“You are such an idiot.”

Simon chuckles and nods before pulling me back onto his chest.

“I’m sorry, love. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I shake my head and cuddle into him and I know this is going to be alright. We are going to be alright.

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 7 Pt. 1

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy and Jake have a conversation. Natasha plays wingman.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

The house smelled delicious, I had spent the last few hours making the perfect bolognese sauce, homemade focaccia, and I had tiramisu ready in the fridge for after dinner. The Daggers were coming over for dinner and I had received a dozen texts from the group about how excited they were to have a home cooked meal, it made me feel good. The day was perfect, Cassandra had given me twice as many pages as I had anticipated, all of which I sent over to my agent to read. For once in my life, everything seemed to be falling into place. 

“Honey, we’re home,” Rooster was the first through the door, the rest of the group trailing in after him with shouted greetings and proclamations of how good everything smelled.

“Wash up, everyone!” I shooed them all away from the kitchen, even Natasha who pouted at me, but Jake just grabbed my hands, pulling me to him. He kissed my temple,

“I missed you.” 

“It’s only been a week,” I rolled my eyes but wrapped my arms around him, relishing in the warmth rolling off of him. Sure, it was largely my fault we hadn’t seen each other, dodging his texts and coming up with excuses not to go to the Hard Deck but that didn’t mean I hadn’t missed him. 

With everyone laying into me about how much Jake and I should get together, I needed a few days to breathe and sort through my own feelings about him. Plus, Cassandra really had been chatty this week, giving me a valid excuse to stay away. I raised up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw, “Wash up, Jake. I’ve got to finish setting the table.” 

I pulled away but he pulled me back, pressing a long kiss to my forehead, sending my stomach into a nervous frenzy.

“We’re going to talk about this later.” I nodded, looking anywhere but him. I could feel his eyes on me as he washed up in the kitchen sink while I finished setting the table, even as the others filed back into the room. 

“Thanks for dinner, Daisy,” Bob gently squeezed my forearm with a smile.

“I already made you a take home box for later, it’s in the fridge.” Bob’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“Do I get one too?” Rooster threw an arm around my shoulders, “I shot down three of these guys in training today.” 

“I’ll give you an extra helping of dessert, Roo.” I patted him on the gut, “Now-”

“Now, we take our hands off the little lady,” Jake pulled me away from Rooster, “And sit down at the table.” 

“Who says the little lady doesn’t want my hands on her?” Rooster asked with a grin and Jake dug his fingers into my hip, staring down his friend and roommate. This was…a first. I’d never been stuck between two guys like this before and it had officially rendered me speechless. Luckily, Bob had my back.

“Alright, let’s not do this,” Bob pushed Rooster towards the table filled with trained naval aviators who all needed to take an acting class.

“Come on,” I patted Jake’s hand, removing it from my hip. “Let’s eat.” 

After dinner everyone spread around the apartment, Javy, Rooster, and Bob were playing video games in the living room, Phoenix was arguing with her mom over the phone in the kitchen, the rapid mix of Spanish and Italian giving me flashbacks to when Natasha failed a midterm sophomore year. Cassandra had started to speak again and Jake had accompanied me to my room, laying on my bed while I wrote. Once I reached a good stopping point, I turned to find Jake under the covers, reading one of my New York detective books. 

“You took your boots off, right?” He grinned, putting the book down on his chest.

“Want to come check?” 

“You’re an idiot,” I laughed, stretching as I stood. “And a cover hog.” 

“I can share, Wildflower.” He held up the other end of the blanket and against all good judgment, I climbed in with him, snuggling into Jake’s side. “How are you feeling?” 

“Sleepy,” I stretched an arm across his center, my fingertips coming in contact with his bare skin where his shirt must have ridden up. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” Jake kissed my hair. 

“You like to use nicknames a lot,” I muttered, tracing circles into his side. “Is it because you guys use callsigns at work?” He didn’t say anything and I found myself filling the silence. “Like, do you use them for everyone? Do they mean something?” 

“Are you asking if I call everyone sweetheart, sweetheart?” I tensed, was that what I was asking? Shit, it was. Jake didn’t seem bothered, running his fingers up and down my arm soothingly. “Well, there’s a ranking for things like this. Honey, darlin, and sweetheart are low hanging fruit, I’m from the south after all. Next up would be personal nicknames, based on things that are specific to them.” 

“Like Wildflower?” 

“Yeah, like Wildflower. I thought about calling you kitten too,” I cringed,

“Please don’t.” Jake shook with laughter,

“Next, every guy has the one name they use that’s reserved only for girls he’s serious about. Also, I don’t have nicknames for you, I have pet names, there’s a difference.” 

“What’s your one name?” I needed to know, my curiosity more than piqued at this point.

“Jake.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” I pinched his side. 

“No need to get rough, Daisy.” He kissed my temple, “It’s baby. I don’t ever call girls baby.” Oh. My heart dropped to my stomach, a heavy but oddly comforting feeling settling in my chest. Jake’s heart was beating loud and fast beneath my head, he was waiting for me to say something. If I did, it could change everything. If I didn’t, we could lose it. That’s what time did, it stole things away from us. I took a deep breath. Fuck it. 

“You call me baby.” 

“I do.” 

“I like when you do.” 

“Good,” He kissed my hair again, “I wasn’t planning on stopping.” After a moment he added, “You ready to talk about this, baby?” No, I was not. I moved away from him just enough to see his face, which was soft and unguarded. I took a deep breath, consciously dropping my own walls. The phrase now or never seemed a lot scarier when the now was now. 

“The idea of whatever this is scares me,” He cupped my cheek but stayed quiet. “And honestly, I don’t know when I stopped thinking you were teasing me and started believing you were actually flirting, but-” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment to gather some courage. “But I’m right here if you’re here with me. Does that make sense?” 

“Perfect sense,” Jake leaned close, his cologne surrounding me as his lips brushed against mine. Then again more firmly. His lips were warm and soft, moving gently against mine, his hand sliding into my hair. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading through my body as the kiss became more feverish. I parted my lips, letting him deepen the kiss as he laid me back onto the bed. 

“Jake?” He moved his kisses to my cheek, then my chin, and my neck, making my head spin. “I have a house full of people downstairs.” 

“Yes, baby?” His lips found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and Jake focused his efforts there, lavishing the spot with his tongue and teeth until I knew there would be a hickey the size of a bowling ball there for the next week. “Fuck, you’re making such pretty noises for me.” 

“Jake,” I whined, digging my fingers into his side, “We have to stop.” 

“You’re right, we do.” Jake gave me three quick kisses before rolling back to the side, “Because when I get to do what I want to do to you, you’re going to wake the dead with how loud you’ll be.”

X

A/N: This chapter was longer than I realized and I had to break it into two parts

Part Two

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @cinderellasmissingshoes @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink

[charmingsoa]

■ Bring it On Home to Me (Intro) ■ John Egan x OC Multi chapter story ⚠ Warning ⚠ This story will feature themes not appropriate for those under the age of 18 and will focus on sensitive subjects at times. Story will contain scenes of sexual content, cursing, physical and verbal abuse, substance use, cheating, miscarriage, mentions of war, etc. Warnings will be posted with each chapter. Please be advised when reading. This fic is purely fiction and has nothing to to do with the actual men of Masters of Air. A/N: Hello! So this is my first John Egan story and i'm kind of excited and nervous to display it to you all... I've never written for this character before but i've read all the amazing stories that are out there and I wanted to jump on the bandwagon. So, this story starts off a little different than most and it will actually go back in time to tell the story. Like I said, it's a little different, but I hope in a good way! I hope you all enjoy 😊

If you would like to be tagged for future updates, please let me know!

“I think that’s the last of it, mom.” I looked up from the picture, my oldest daughter staring back as she wiped a stray hair out of her face.

The house, the place where I had spent the last 50 years, now stood before me vacant and empty, echoing with the memories of a lifetime. The bare walls, once adorned with photos capturing moments from the past and present, now stared back at me, the original paint faded from where the frames had sat untouched for many years. This home had been the anchor of our family, the sanctuary where my children, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren had all found solace and security.

I could still see it vividly in my mind's eye - my girls taking their first steps on the soft carpet of the living room, their laughter filling the air. The kitchen, with its worn wooden floors, bore witness to their growth, marked by notches on the door frame tracking their increasing heights. The backyard, a place of endless play and joy, had been the backdrop for countless family gatherings, from first day-of-school photos to prom nights and even wedding celebrations.

As I wandered through the empty rooms, memories flooded my mind - the sound of children's laughter echoing down the halls, the smell of home-cooked meals wafting from the kitchen, the sight of my grandchildren playing in the backyard as I watched from the comfort of the wraparound porch. This was more than just a house; it was a living, breathing repository of our family's history and love.

This was the home that he had promised me, the place where we had vowed to build our lives and raise our family, where we had planned to stay until the end of our days. Now, as I prepared to say goodbye to our beloved home, a mix of emotions swirled within me.

"I'm gonna get you out of here – give you a life worth living and loving in America," the soldier declared, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and allure. As he spoke, tendrils of smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his fingers, adding to the air of mystery that surrounded him. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into mine with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

Rolling my eyes in response, I stubbed out my own cigarette, the ember extinguishing with a hiss. All the soldiers were the same, I thought wryly, willing to say anything to win favor and attention, especially at the end of a long night. Despite his good looks and the faint scent of whiskey and smoke that emanated from his dress greens, I remained guarded, having heard similar promises before.

"You watch and see, little girl," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture exuding confidence. His thighs were spread open, a display of dominance that didn't escape my notice. "I'll buy you any kind of house you want – a farmhouse, a mansion, one on the beach."

"Mom-" Bridget's voice broke through the silence, pulling me back from the depths of my thoughts. I blinked, refocusing on the present moment, feeling her warm hand gently pressing against my back. Her touch comforting.

I turned to look at her, a concerned gaze searching mine. Her eyes, so much like her father’s, reflected a mix of worry and love. In that moment, I saw the strength and resilience that she had inherited from him.

"I'm okay, sweetheart," I reassured her, offering a faint smile to ease her concern. "Just lost in my thoughts for a moment there."

She let out a sigh as she looked over the empty home, "Daddy used to always tell Maggie and me that we wouldn’t be able to get you out of this house – even if we infested it with all the spiders in the world – you would find a way to stay," she reminisced, a hint of amusement in her voice.

A smile tugged at my lips as she continued, "He would kid us by saying that you loved this house more than you loved him, which we both knew was not true."

"Well," I smirked, "There were times when your father was not my favorite person, but he always had a way of making it up to me in the end, even if it was my fault for the argument." The intensity of our arguments, fueled by stubbornness and pride, seemed to fade in comparison to the fierce passion that ignited between us once the storm had passed.

"Do you realize that you’re a pain in my ass?” I rolled my eyes as he stood firmly in front of me. “If I wanted to cheat on you, I would have gone out and done it already, Vanessa. I could go down to George’s bar and pick any one of those hookers that hang around there – I’m sure they would be more than happy to spend a couple hours with me."

A mean smirk formed on my face as I retorted, “You haven’t lasted more than 10 minutes in over two years.” I scoffed. “Over here talking about lasting a couple hours – it's either your back or your knees that start hurting in a matter of seconds. God forbid you’re the one on the bottom.”

His eyes narrowed at my cutting remarks. “You sayin that I’m no good in bed?” he shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“You’re the one talking about being some kind of Adonis,” I remarked, feeling my back hit the counter behind me as he crept closer. “I’m just stating the facts, sweetheart.” His tall frame towered over mine, his arms trapping me in on either side. I glared up at him with hooded eyes, while his piercing blue eyes held a hint of mischief.

“I mean, you’re okay I guess,” I replied, trying to maintain a façade of indifference despite the closeness between us.

His breath tickled my ear as he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “The way you were begging last night might say otherwise, V.” His words sent a jolt of heat through me, memories of the previous night flooding back with an intensity that left me momentarily speechless.

"Daddy made this place fun, that's for sure – it's gonna be weird not seeing him sitting in the rocking chair out front or fiddling around in his garden," Bridget remarked, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. I nodded in understanding, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily in my heart.

"Gonna be weird just not coming here period," she added, her eyes briefly meeting mine as I let out a sad sigh.

As we stood there, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of our family home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss creeping in. John’s presence had always been a comforting constant, his love and warmth filling every corner of this house. Without him, the home felt like an empty shell – hollow and cold.

“I think I’m gonna take one more look around- “My voice hitching in my throat. “Make sure I have everything before I turn the keys over to the realtor.”

Bridget nodded her head, her touch leaving my arm as she slowly walked towards the front door. I could hear her speaking with the real estate agent that was waiting outside, the realization that this was the end starting to dawn on me.

My eyes moved down to the picture that I clutched tightly in my hands – our young, bright smiles on display as the bulb flashed in front of us. The first photograph of us in front of our new house – the place where we promised to spend the rest of our days.

549 Timber Creek Rd.

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #6 quit!

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual , reader talks about parental death, sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.8k

masterlist ▸ 5. 005. chronic memory keeper ▸ 007. snake in the grass

Stepping into her kitchen was the most relaxing feeling ever, it had been a while since y/n had the chance to dine in with a recipe she carefully put together or found on pinterest and craft something nice. Spending hours on end not thinking about her own problems and just focusing on a hobby she enjoys. 

After her overly embarrassing text messages hinting to Minghao that she slightly hoped he was single had her desperately wishing they wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass. 

Cleaning out the insides of the chicken and placing them in a bowl saved for her next soup stock, she massages pads of butter or seasoning onto it’s skin and placed it in her hot oven, before moving onto the thinly silenced potatoes and root vegetables she had prepped that morning, boiling and simmering them. 

A chime from her doorbell stole her away from her stress free time in the kitchen. She was excited to see Minghao but it wasn’t him who was waiting at her threshold. opening it to reveal a small package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a matching twine bow. 

No note was attached on the outer side revealing who may have left the wrapped item for her to find. So she decided to ignore it, just for now at least and get back to preparing her meal for a friend. 

An hour had passed since the last time someone was ringing the doorbell and left waiting for her to quickly wash her hands. 

“Y/n?” 

Minghao. 

“Sorry, one second I just need to wash my hands.” 

She yelled, leaving the water running and rushing herself to the guest bathroom next to the door, making sure she looked alright and didn’t miss an out of place hair or swipe of flour on her face. 

Opening her front door, she revealed Mingaho standing with a paper bag in his hand as well as a bouquet of her favorite flowers, Hydrangeas swinging to his side. 

She looked him up and down forgetting she invited him here and still not inviting him in. He was dressed in a perfectly ripped pair of jeans and matching long denim coat, underneath she caught a glimpse of a white button down top missing the clasps of the top three buttons revealing his chest. He looked incredible. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Yes, please.” 

“This is for you, some wine and snacks for after dinner. I picked them up from the chinese market near my gallery.” 

“That’s so thoughtful of you, thank you. The flowers are beautiful, how did you know I liked hydrangeas?” 

“I saw on Seokmin’s instagram that he took you to a flower farm last year, I just assumed.” 

“Ah. Well you assumed right, they’re really gorgeous.” 

“What are you making? It smells so good.” 

“Roast chicken and root veggies, with some wild rice and my mom’s very special, very secret recipe sauce. 

Minghao was amazed watching y/n move around the kitchen with ease, seemingly like she was dancing around the marble floor. 

“I have to admit, I really thought you were joking when you told me you could cook. I almost expected you to order food and make it look like you were the chef.” 

“Ouch. That hurts my pride a little bit. Actually, my dad was a chef. He used to own a restaurant. I spent a lot of time there as a kid helping him.” 

“Was? What happened if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“He passed away when I was a teenager. It’s a long story.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s okay, I miss him, but cooking helps me feel close to him.” 

“Now I’m very sorry I ever doubted your skill.” 

Your laugh made Minghao happy, he knew he probably struck a chord in you but it was nice that even when you were sad you could still find humor in anything. 

“Need my help with anything?” 

“Just for you to either open that bottle of wine or make me a cocktail, dealer's choice.” 

“Got it.” 

Y/n’s dining partner strode off to the chrome bar cart and twiddled his fingers around the various bottles of liquor, some full and some half empty, giving him an indication of the things she chose for herself. 

“Here you are, chef.” 

“Wow, thank you bartender. What is it?” 

“Try it and find out.” 

Y/n took a sip from the slightly pink cocktail glass, swishing it in her mouth for dramatic effect. 

“Okay, so.. Gin, Campari, a splash of grapefruit bitters, and lemon?” 

“Wow, are you like a weird super taster or something? What the fuck.” 

“No, just a girl who loves gin old fashioneds.” 

“You are one surprising specimen.” 

“Shut up. Come on, let's eat.” 

After basically finishing every edible thing on the plate, Minghao offered to clean up for you as a thank you for the efforts of you cooking him one of the best dinners he’s had the pleasure of eating. 

Y/n switched into her role as bartender and opened a beautiful bottle of red wine for the pair to sip on as their night continued on. 

“Thank you for cleaning. I’m sorry again about the whole weird ass texts I was sending you. I was way too drunk to be alone with my thoughts and access to the internet.” 

“I told you it’s alright. I actually found it sort of cute.” 

“Cute? Maybe you are crazier than I thought you were.” 

“No, come on. You know you’re cute. Everyone tells you all the time, I agree with them.” 

“Shut up, THE Xu Minghao thinks I’M cute? I’m so flattered.” 

Minghao playfully slapped y/n’s hand off of her chest, knocking the red liquid around in her cup, causing it to fall onto the white fabric of her pants. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok, I can just go throw them in the wash. One second.” 

Y/n departed into her room, changing into a pair of pink pajama bottoms, not removing her corseted tank top in the process, fleeing quickly into the laundry room at the end of the hall to wash the stain out. 

Minghao in the meantime caught a glimpse of the twine wrapped package on her coffee table and went over to see what it could possibly be. In the time he spent inspecting it he didn’t notice his female counterpart entering back into the room. 

“Someone left that for me at my door. Weird right?” 

“Yeah, sort of. Should we open it?” 

“I’m kind of scared to be honest.” 

“Okay, I have an idea.” 

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” 

“Trust me?” 

“Maybe.” 

Minghao stepped back to the now familiar bar cart and grabbed a bottle of whiskey that had been left unopened until this night, placing two shot glasses in front of them both. 

“What does taking shots have to do with us opening the package?” 

“What doesn’t it have to do with the package? It’s brown, similar to the wrapping. It’s sealed, maybe because you don’t like it or it’s not something you’re sure of. And it’s interesting. So we take two shots, then we open it, then regardless of what it is, we play a game. The game selfishly is for me to get to know you deeper. I feel like I’ve spent so much time with you and I don’t know that much about you, other than what was exposed. So, you in?” 

“Yes.” 

Y/n and Minghao cheered to their now growing connection and he placed the small package in her lap, holding onto her knee, getting the feeling that she needed moral support based on mutual gut feelings. 

“Okay.” 

“I’m sure it’s not bad.” 

As y/ns hands ripped apart the brown paper and untied the rope around the mysterious box, it revealed a soft purple journal, now torn apart, pages basically falling out from end to end all over the couch between them. 

“My journal.” 

Her voice shifted, she was no longer happy or full of anticipation, she was confused and slightly disappointed as her precious and private life fell out in front of her, photos, entries, and shards of her life. 

“Oh, y/n. I-” 

“No. Don’t say sorry, please.” 

“Why the fuck do people care? Just like why am I someone's target? Especially if it’s someone I know, what is so bad that you can’t just fucking talk to me about it? Sorry, I don’t know if that makes sense at all, but I just don’t get it.” 

“I think some people are just scared of genuine conflict, so instead of asking they make things about themselves and take the other person's feelings out of the equation to feed their own.” 

“Why give it back now? Am I expected to just ignore my privacy being invaded and be like well it’s over good? This makes me feel even more uneasy.” 

“Maybe they left you a clue or something by giving this back?” 

Minghao collected the various contents that were left as ashes for you, feeding you more alcohol and not talking while he did so. 

“y/n? Here.” 

A small envelope, matching the shade of purple of the cover of your journal was tapped inside the cover, inside a typed note. 

‘Just because it comes back to you, doesn’t mean it’ll always stay the same. See you soon. Xo.’

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“I guess they’re trying to tell you more will come out? And that they have no purpose for keeping the evidence anymore.” 

“Can we.. maybe, just for the rest of the night ignore this? I cannot focus on this anymore and it’s ruining my chance to have fun with you.” 

“Please. Let me distract you.” 

“Do you want to change? Or need clothes? I know Seokmin and Joshua left some stuff here in case they ever stayed over.” 

“They wouldn’t mind?” 

“No, of course not. I’ll be right back.” 

Y/n ran back into her room, gathering various styles of t-shirts and sweatpants to make Minghao more comfortable. 

“Here, there's some options. I know you care a lot about your style, so pick what you want.” 

Mingaho grabbed a black t-shirt with a logo from Joshua’s coffee shop on the front and an odd pair of Seokmin’s disney character pajama pants, just to make the air go back to it’s lighthearted space. 

“Oh my god, you look amazing.” 

“ I just wanted you to smile.” 

“Mission accomplished, Mickyhao.” 

“That is an awful nickname.” 

“Shut up, don’t be a dick.” 

“Got it. Okay, so let’s play a little game, y/n. I’ll ask you some questions, if you don’t want to answer you can drink and you can do the same for me. Got it?” 

“Got it. You go first.” 

“Okay, so what stops you from going after the things you want?” 

“Hmm, I’m shy, I guess? I don’t want to risk changing how things already are any more than they have changed on their own. I think confessions and love declarations are unnerving, I could ruin something good just for a single chance. Not knowing shit freaks me out.” 

“So you’re a control freak, got it.” 

“No. Not a control freak, just a loser.” 

“That’s accurate.” 

“You’re stupid. Okay, Minghao. What made you want to pursue art?” 

“I guess it was just always something I was good at? I loved being able to tell the truth about stuff without having to say it outloud, people can perceive anything they want, but I know how I truly feel and nobody can take it away from me. The truth, I mean.” 

“How are you so certain that its the truth?” 

“Well, it's my truth.” 

“Touche” 

“Why didn’t you tell Minnie about Seungcheol? Were you ever going to?” 

“Yikes. I guess, I didn’t feel like it was important. We hooked up way before they ever dated, he was just helping me out with something that scared me, which I didn’t think was a big deal. I knew she liked him, but she told me she’d never confess. I guess I didn’t think it was as big of a problem until it was. Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah it does, how did it happen?” 

“No, no, no. One question at a time. How did it happen for you?” 

“My virginity? I was at a party, junior year before college and I met a girl. She was nice, really pretty, and she seemed to enjoy my company. I guess I just asked her if she wanted to fuck and she agreed, but after she told me she had a boyfriend and that was that.” 

“So she cheated on her boyfriend just to fuck you? Alright, good for you I guess. Bad for the boyfriend.” 

“Have you ever cheated on someone?” 

“Me? God no. I haven’t even had the chance to be with anyone that seriously considers sleeping around cheating. I don’t think I could do that. Why? Have you?” 

“Nope, but I guess I’ve been the person someone used to cheat, so it feels sort of like cheating.” 

“Since we seem to be two overly honest people for this game, want to drink just for fun as well?” 

“Please. Cheers.” 

“Okay y/n, I have a question.” 

“Yes?” 

“What was it about Joshua or Mingyu that attracted you to them?” 

“With Shua it was how kind he was, everyone knows it and can see that. It just sort of radiates around him. I mean he’s beautiful, they both are. In such different ways. I’ll probably always view him as that first boy I loved, he’s really special to me. As for Mingyu, I guess I never knew why at first. He was just my hot friend that I hooked up with sometimes, but the more and more we hung out the more I realized how smart he was and how intriguing his character is.” 

“Do you still have feelings for them?” 

“I’m not sure what my feelings are for anyone at this moment, no.” 

“What about me?” 

“What about you?” 

“Would you ever consider me the way you consider them?” 

“Can I take a shot?” 

“Sure, but you still have to answer the question. Come on.” 

“Yeah, I would. I like getting to know you, I appreciate how fiercely committed you are to riding for the people you love. I like that you’re artistic like me, that we can laugh about wild stuff, but also be honest and talk about anything and everything in between. You’ve really made me happy even in the short time of knowing you. And to say that I’d have to think about considering you is silly, because I definitely already have. Seokmin and Jun think I have a crush on you.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Nobody needs to know.” 

“I do.” 

“You do what? Need to know if I like you?” 

“No, like you.” 

“Wait.” 

“A lot actually. More than I ever considered I would. I think you’re actually a really spectacular person despite everything.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yeah. You can.” 

The smell of whiskey on Minghao’s breath made the hair on Y/N’s arms stand up as she fell into his touch, the kiss exploded into more and more touching and exploration of the pair's bodies. And continued on through the night, more than once. 

The next morning y/n woke up with a headache, checking the clock on her phone revealing it was almost time for Joshua to come and whisk her away from her new found bliss in bed next to Minghao. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“What?” 

“You have a suitcase in the corner and you keep checking your phone, is everything alright? I wasn’t that bad was I?” 

“No, but I’m going to see my mom this weekend with Joshua, I almost forgot. He’s on his way.” 

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing. I’ll just shower quickly and sneak out. You can stay as long as you need, I have an extra key in the blue jar next to my door, just lock it up for me?” 

“Sure, but come here quickly.” 

Minghao pulled y/n in for a long sweet kiss, before she ran into the warm water of her shower. 

Minghao propped himself up in her bed, collecting himself before making an attempt at a small getaway. Coming face to face with the unlocking door of the same apartment he spent his night in before. 

“Y/n, hey can I- Oh, Minghao. Hey.” 

“Joshua, Hi. Sorry I was just leaving.” 

“Without saying goodbye?” 

“What?” 

“To y/n, she’s in the shower, you’re just leaving?” 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you, for your information we already said a very thorough goodbye. Have fun on your trip, take care of her.” 

“Hah. Alright.” 

“I’m serious. Make sure she knows I’ll miss her.” 

“I’ll be sure to do that.” 

Minghao grabbed his jacket and slid out of her front door, looking behind him before walking away from y/n already feeling jealous she’d be spending her weekend with Joshua and not him, but he had things he couldn't tell her. Not yet.

"Oh, Joshua. I didn't think you were coming yet. Sorry, let me just grab my stuff."

"No it's fine, I just wanted to grab some snacks, hope that's okay?"

"Of course, take whatever you want. Give my five?"

"I saw your overnight guest on his way out."

"Yeah, he stayed over. I made him dinner, we just got drunk I didn't want him to have to drive home like that. Unsafe, you know."

"Right, well I'll meet you in the car."

"No need, I'm ready. I cannot wait to have the Boston Creme Pie from Boi's, I'm literally salivating thinking about it."

"We should go when we get into town and order an entire one."

"I see why we're friends now. Come on."

Joshua grabbed y/ns luggage, waiting for her to lock up her apartment and the pair headed to his car waiting outside.

bonus:

note/s: y/n love triangle era starting fr. srry this took a second and is a lil chaotic, I've been a lil busy. but!! I already have the next part on hand and will be posting v soon, some shit will be going down at minghaos show, but I didn't tell u that. xoxoxo. ily.

taglist:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl @kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,, jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @wonuulvr @woozixo

[sunnybeewriting]

For What It's Worth

­­­­­Hi guys! I did my best with being accurate, there’s just so much information that it’s hard to sort through it all, and I took some creative liberties with the location of High Camp. That being said, I really hope you guys like it. Please leave a like or comment if you do, they really make my day!

WORD COUNT: 9,291

WARNINGS: Mild blood and fear

You and Tuk are out playing when things take a turn for the worse.

You hiss softly as the blade you’re using to cut up fruit nicks the tip of your finger. A bead of red appears as you hold it closer to your face for inspection, making sure the cut wasn’t deep. The blood red contrasts nicely against the blue of your skin.

You lower your finger once you are satisfied and huff, irritated more than you usually would be at making such a small mistake.

If you’re being honest with yourself, there was no real reason you were in such a bad mood. Perhaps it was the dreary weather that had engulfed High Camp these past few days. Perhaps it was just usual teenage woe. Either way, your mood was starting to go downhill.

You stuff a slice of the fruit into your mouth, suddenly ravenous as you walk around the perimeter of where your people had sought refuge from the Sky People. It’s something you like to do when you are bored or simply want to be alone with your thoughts.

It was nice to just drift around and take in the breathtaking beauty of your home and people. Watching parents chase their little children around, smelling food cooking, listening to the distant sound of rushing water. It was a good way to take your mind off anything that was troubling you, even when you weren’t sure what that was specifically.

As you round the corner and near the shared tent of your family, you see the faint, tiny form of Tuk tugging on an exasperated Kiri’s hand.

Kiri stays in place, unbothered by the weightless pulling and the frustrated, begging expression on Tuk’s little face. You don’t have to be near them to figure out what they were arguing about.

At this age, all little Tuk wanted to do was follow her older siblings around. She was constantly begging to tag along with Lo’ak and Neteyam as they practiced shooting their bows, even when they warned her it would be boring. She followed Kiri around as much as she could, always talking.

Her pout and big, round eyes were a weakness of every family member, so she usually got her way. Luckily, regularly letting her do what she wanted had never made her spoiled; she was just as sweet and soft-hearted as she was as a baby.

Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam were in the beginnings of their own teenage years, which meant they were ‘too cool’ to have their younger sister hanging around them all the time. They were sweet kids, kind and playful with the youngest member of the family, but they still wanted their own independence.

You understood; you had been the same way when you were their age.

Now, though, you certainly didn’t mind the company of any of your younger siblings. As a result, Tuk spent most of her time with you when she wasn’t with Mom. You would walk around the forest with her, singing little tunes and playing games.

You like to make flower crowns for the whole family when you were in the forest. The first time you had given one to Dad, he was hesitant to wear it. Lo’ak and Neteyam followed his example, not wanting to wear something their dad disapproved of. After your pleading, though, Dad caved in pretty quick. Now, they wore your crowns with pride around High Camp, as a loving totem from their family. 

Spending so much time with a little sibling might have bothered other Na’vi your age, but you really didn’t mind. You had a few friends, but no one you were extremely connected to. You had yet to find anyone you were interested in as a mate, either.

Finding a mate was something your dad often told you to take your time on, usually with a relieved look on his face. It made you laugh every time.

“Hey Tuk, Kiri!” you shout, grabbing their attention. They turn to look at you, and Tuk’s tugging on Kiri’s hand grew even more insistent. This time Kiri relented, even if it was with a roll of her eyes.

They walk towards you, Tuk with a bounce in her step and a grin on her face. She still holds onto Kiri’s hand. Kiri’s tall, slender frame looks large next to Tuk, and she doesn’t have her shawl wrapped around her shoulders for once. 

“Took you long enough,” Kiri says, but her tone is far from irritated. “Find anything new?”

She was referring to any rocks, trinkets, or plants you sometimes found on the edges of High Camp. She loved to collect and study them; she had a whole pile of pretty rocks somewhere in the family tent. If the plant you brought back was pretty enough, she would wear it in her hair.

You loved finding things for her; the look on her face when she received something new to examine never failed to make your heart swell.

This time, though, you shake your head. “Nah, nothing special. I thought I saw something shiny in the grass, but it just turned out to be a piece of metal. Sorry, Kiri.”

She shakes her head as well and says, “That’s alright, I have plenty back in the tent. I should probably sort through them, actually.”

Tuk, apparently tired of your boring conversation, leaps up to you and grabs onto your leg.

“Ayviiri, Ayviiri, can we please go look around the forest again? I’m bored, but Kiri doesn’t want to play with me anymore! Or, or we could stay here and play a game? Please?” she begs, drawing out the last ‘please’ with a pout. She leans around your leg and looks up at you with imploring eyes.

Kiri scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been playing with you all day! You’re really just going to dump me like that?”

Tuk sticks her tongue out at Kiri playfully, and Kiri rubs her hand in Tuk’s face just to hear her squeal and jerk away.

You laugh at their play fighting and gently tug Tuk off your leg. Your smile turns mischievous, and you squat, grab Tik around her knees, and throw her right over your shoulder as you stand back up.

The shriek of laughter as she’s lifted high up hurts your sensitive ears, but it makes your smile grow. You start walking closer toward the family tent, Kiri trailing behind you.

Tuk’s tail waves in front of your face and blocks your view a few times, and you’re about to put her down when you feel a small hand grab onto your own vulnerable tail and pull. Your answering shriek is loud enough to make neighboring people jump and glare at you, but none of you care.

You arrive at the tent and set Tuk down. She wobbles a bit as she regains her balance, still giggling. When she straightens up, she points an accusing finger at you and shouts, “Hey! You never answered my question! Can we please go exploring, please? I promise I’ll be good!” Her mouth wobbles and your heart melts.

Damnit, you think. When did I turn into such a softy?

You lower yourself down to her eye level and say, “Alright, alright, we can go out. But only for a few hours, okay?”

Kiri crosses her arms and shakes her head in amusement at your weakness, and you stand up and shrug, as if saying ‘what can you do?’.

Tuk’s answering cheer is enough to make the hit to your pride worth it. She throws her arms around you and presses her face against your stomach. You rest a gentle hand on the top of her head.

“But we have to ask Mom first, okay?”

Tuk nods and releases you, grin never fading. You turn to Kiri and ask, “Where is Mom, anyways? Have you seen her today?”

Kiri dips her head and says, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s either in the tent or talking with other parents.”

“Alright, we’ll go find her, then. You want to come with us to the forest? Play some more games?”

“I don’t think so. I have that collection to sort through, remember?” The smirk on her face says she’s just using the collection as an excuse not to go, but you don’t mind. You smirk back knowingly.

“Right, right, totally. Well, I guess we’re off to find Mom, then! Ready, Tuk?”

Tuk nods furiously and grabs the hand you hold out for her. You wave one last time at Kiri as you leave in search of your mother.

------

Mom was finishing up her conversation when you finally find her, almost on the opposite side of High Camp. Her ears flick as she hears you both approaching, although Tuk’s loud chatter had probably alerted her a while ago. She presses a quick hand to the bicep of the woman she was talking to as she says goodbye before walking over to you and Tuk.

Your mouth stretches into a smile, happy to see her.

“Hey Mom! Tuk and I are about to head out for an hour or two to explore, is that okay? Do you want to come with?” you ask, even though you are certain she will decline your offer.

Just as you thought, she shakes her head and says, “I am sorry, my daughters. I already have plans for the afternoon. Maybe next time, yes?”

You nod understandingly. “That’s alright, Mom. We won’t be out long anyways.”

“It will be getting dark soon. Make sure to be back before it does.” Your mother knows you are almost an adult of the clan now, but that doesn't stop her from worrying over you the same way she does the rest of her children. You understand your mother’s concern, though, and simply nod.

“We will. We’ll see you later, okay?”

Your mother smiles and nods back, hand briefly running over Tuk’s head. She places her hand on your arm as you walk past her, and you place your own on hers just for a moment, understanding her silent message of ‘be careful’.

And with that, you and Tuk are off.

------

You walk deep into the forest, but not any further than usual. There’s a large, safe area in the forest near the edge of High Camp where the children are allowed to explore. It’s a good chunk of land with plenty of space and trees to play around with, so you don’t go outside of the perimeter.

In fact, the adults of the clan, including your parents, forbid it. There was dangerous machinery and weapons left over from a battle with the Sky People over a decade ago. They were old, yes, but no child should be near them.  

A few years ago, a poor boy from the clan died after he stepped on an old land mine still working underneath the dirt where the Sky People had left it. The weapon was years old, but it killed him instantly. Such an unnecessary and sorrowful death made the whole clan grieve together for at least two months. It was a stark reminder of the Sky People’s vicious ruthlessness.

Now, nobody is allowed to cross into that section of forest, for their own safety. The clan did not want any other innocent to die.

Your parents had made it clear to all of their children to stay away from that part of the forest, and you gladly kept your distance. You didn’t want to die like that, blown to bits before you even knew what was happening.

You and Tuk wander around until the sky begins to darken, the eclipse encompassing the forest and dimming the bright sky. You’d spent the past few hours lifting heavy rocks so Tuk could look and poke at the bugs frantically running around. Tuk watched as you practiced your balancing skills on the skinny branch of a tree, arms stretched out so you could remain upright. Then, you chased Tuk around until the both of you were gasping for air.

Now, the two of you were resting on the soft grass of the ground, hands behind your head as you gaze at the sky and struggle to catch your breath.

Once the sky begins to darken, you lean up on your elbows and turn to Tuk.

“Time to head home, Tuk, it’s getting dark already,” you say, fully expecting her to whine and argue.

To your surprise, she simply nods her head and pulls herself to her feet. Her little chest still heaves as she moves and sweat glistens on her forehead. Her head of braids is messy from laying on the ground, little blades of grass stuck in it. You’re sure your hair is no better. 

Guess I finally wore out her endless amount of energy, you think.

You sit up and stand on your feet, hands drifting down to check your weapons. Once you make sure everything is still attached, you reach over to Tuk, brushing grass from her body and picking it out of her hair.

Tuk is quiet the entire time you work, a rare occurrence you would have taken notice of if you weren’t lost in your own head, thinking of what you were going to have for dinner. Your stomach growls as your mind drifts with the clouds, and you barely catch the mischievous smile that flickers across Tuk’s face before she leaps from your grasp and sprints away.

“Catch me if you can, Ayviiri!”

You’re so startled that you can only gawk as she bounds away, before your legs are moving and you sprint after her.

“Tuk! It’s getting dark, we don’t have time for this!”

Your legs are much longer than hers and your speed much faster, and you would have caught her arm if you hadn’t tripped over an exposed root and face-planted into the dirt. You’d been so focused on grabbing her that you hadn’t been watching the ground.

You quickly leap back to your feet and chase after her, face throbbing and covered in dirt. The skin of your knees stings, and you can feel yourself losing your temper.

The time between falling and standing back up hadn’t been long, only a few seconds, but it was long enough for Tuk to no longer be in your immediate sight. Trees, bushes, and glowing plant life block your view, but you can hear her delighted laughter and her small feet thudding against the dirt as she ran further and further away.

“Tuk! I’m serious, this isn’t funny! You need to come back, Tuk! Tuk!” you shout, irritation coloring your voice as you continue after her.

The sky continues to darken, and with it your mood. You chase after her, uncaring of the branches or bushes you have to knock out of the way. You can still hear her laughter, so you know she’s close.

You’re so focused on chasing after her and watching the placement of your feet so you don’t end up on the ground again that you don’t notice entering a part of the forest you had never been to before. By the time you look around yourself and notice, it’s too late.

You slow to a stop and stand there, panting, hands resting on your knees as your heart pounds in your chest. You struggle to catch your breath.

Tuk is going to be in so much trouble! You think, annoyance making your jaw clench.

You straighten up, still gasping for air. You take in your surroundings and freeze.

Horror blossoms in your chest and sinks its teeth into your limbs, turning your blood to ice. You are frozen, unable to move as you realize where you are.

The trees and plants around you are unfamiliar. You recognize their species, yes, but you don’t know the pattern they are placed in because you have never seen them before. Nothing looks familiar because you had sprinted straight past the line separating the safe part of the forest from the dangerous.

There are fewer bioluminescent plants in this part of the forest, it seems, which makes the area much darker. The trees seem to loom over you, and the usual trilling of bugs seems muted, somehow, as if in the distance.

You stand in place, body still, terrified to move another step and get blown up like that boy. You remain there for another moment before you hear the quiet laughter of a little girl in the distance.

The terror you had felt before is nothing compared to the blasting wave that seizes your mind and body. Your stomach turns and your heart races, beating faster than it ever has before as you realize, sick, that Tuk has no idea where she was. That she had no idea she had crossed the line into hazardous territory, and she had no clue what danger she was in.

She’s still running around, your brain gasps, she’s still moving, she’s touching the ground!

An image appears in your mind, unwanted. You watch as your sweet, sweet little sister is blown to pieces. You watch as you find what’s left of her body. You watch as you walk back home and tell your parents what happened. And the imagined look that comes over their faces, full of agony and pure grief, is enough to shock you back into your body.

You sway, dizzy with the overpowering emotions controlling your body and the sickening images still taunting you in your head. You blink and force a breath into your body, and then you’re off like a bullet, sprinting through the trees in search of your sister.

“Tuk!” The cry that leaves your mouth is completely different from the shouts you had been making earlier. Those had been tinged with annoyance and begrudging amusement. The sounds leaving you now are terror-stricken, thick with awful emotion.

“Tuk! Stop moving, Tuk, stay still, I’m coming for you!”

You race after her in the last direction you heard her voice, feet pounding into the dirt. You’re running so fast, completely unconcerned with your own safety as you frantically seek out any sign of your sister. Fear seizes your heart and muscles, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears. Your vision narrows as you search, looking anywhere but the path in front of you. You are sprinting, so consumed with fear and adrenaline that you don’t notice the glinting metal laying exposed under a light layer of dirt and leaves until it is too late.

Your right foot lands squarely in the middle of a contraption, and the sharp, strong teeth of the trap activate and clamp onto your leg, tearing deeply into the flesh just above your ankle.

You go flying, skidding across the ground. Your face and hands take most of the hit, small rocks in the dirt scraping your palms. The impact of your face hitting the ground splits open the skin of your chin.

Stars burst behind your eyes as you slow to stop, face down in the dirt. Your entire body feels numb, and your brain struggles to catch up with what just happened. You lay there for a few seconds, trying to think properly and move, but it just won’t happen. Eventually, you’re able to slowly lift your upper body upwards with your arms, dragging your face out of the dirt.

Little flickers of pain are starting to filter into your brain, but it isn’t until you fully sit up, turn around, and see your mangled, bloody leg that you realize what had happened. Then, the pain hits you so fast and hard it steals the breath straight from your lungs

White hot agony splits across your senses. Your vision turns spotty with black dots and your head becomes fuzzy, sound muted in your ears. By the time you come back to yourself, you realize you’re lying flat on your back. Must have passed out, you think distantly. That’s okay. I’m okay.

You gain awareness once more, pain throbbing through your entire body. Even the tip of your tail hurts. You lay there, staring blankly up at the trees, looking at the stars blinking at you through the gaps in the canopy. Your head is empty of any thought or emotion, brain and body in shock.

Your hearing begins to come back just in time to hear the choked gasp of a little girl to the right side of your head. It’s immediately followed by a screaming wail that jolts you straight back into your body.

For one fearful moment, you are afraid that the little girl has stepped into a metal trap of her own and is screaming in agony. Then a weight slams into the side of your stomach.

Tuk’s frightened face appears in your line of sight, tears streaming down her face and bright, yellow eyes horrified. Distantly, you recognize that she is still screaming, sobbing.

You blink, hand slowly reaching up to touch her tear-soaked face.

“Tuk,” you croak. The realization that she’s okay is a stunning relief, and you feel your body relax deeper into the dirt. “Oh, Tuk.” Tears sting at your own eyes and flow down your cheeks, happy and relieved and agonized all at the same time.

She sobs louder at the sight of your own tears. You both lay there, bawling, until she is finally able to gasp out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know we had gone so far, I didn’t see the line, Ayviiri! I’m sorry!” She continues to gasp and wail, and the sight makes your heart burn.

Your hand slowly reaches up towards her and around her tiny back, and you gently apply pressure. She takes the hint and leans down to lay her head against your chest. Her wet face tickles your bare skin, but you keep your hand on her back, rubbing circles.

Pain still throbs in time with your heartbeat throughout your body, mostly in your leg, but you let her cry until her gasps turn to hiccups and her tears slow from a steady stream to almost a complete stop. 

She raises her head from your chest and looks at your face. You return her gaze, eyes dazed and half-lidded. And then she says,

“Are you okay?”

You stare at her and then laugh as best you can, chest stinging from the movement. But you don’t care, because it was such a silly, oblivious question that could only come from a child.

And your brain might still be a little loopy from the hard hit it had taken when you had faceplanted into the ground, twice. Either way, you laugh for a few seconds, jostling Tuk still laying pressed up against you.

“Uh, I don’t think I can qualify as ‘okay’ right now, Tuk.”

That makes her eyes fill with tears once more, and she lowers her head to press her forehead against your chest.

“I’m so sorry, Ayviiri.” Her voice wobbles, and it’s clear she’s about to start sobbing all over again.

Yeah, you admit. Probably not the best thing to say to a traumatized kid right now.

You shush her once more, hand stroking her hair a few more times. Then, you say,

“Hey, Tuk. I’m going to need you to be really strong here for a little bit, can you do that for me? I’m alright, but I’m going to need your help. Can you stay with me?”

She stares at you for a few seconds and then nods her head. She sits up and takes her arm off your body, sniffling, and then wipes her eyes and face with her hands. She closes her eyes and takes in a slow, deep breath, just like Mom had taught us to do when we were scared, and lets it out. She repeats the process two more times before she opens her eyes, determined.

You stare at her for a moment.

Shit. I really am lucky to have such a damn good family.

“Thanks for staying with me, Tuk.”

She looks you straight in the eye and says, “Sully’s stick together”, like it’s a fact of life, something that has always been and would never change.

You blink furiously to will your own tears of relief away/

“Alright, Tuk. I’m going to need you to help me sit up, okay. Slowly.”

You start small, wiggling your fingers and then moving your arms. You tense your shoulders and, very slowly, strain your stomach muscles to start lifting your upper body off the forest floor. Tuk reaches her arm around your back and presses her hand against you, carefully applying support.

Every part of your body is in agony, head pounding behind your eyes and face stinging. Still, you don’t stop until you’re fully sitting up. Your head wobbles dizzily and black dots threaten you once more, but you will yourself not to pass out. Once you find your balance, you look at Tuk. She looks back at you, worried, hand laying on your shoulder.

Neither of you says anything. You nod slowly and wiggle your fingers and parts of your upper body some more. The longer you take stock of the injuries up here, the longer you don’t have to look at the wound on your leg.

You can put it off no longer, though, and so you lean forward to take a look at your legs stretched out in front of you.

You whimper before you can stop yourself.

The metal contraption had wrapped itself around your right foot. Sharp little teeth are clamped into the flesh of your calf, tearing through delicate skin and squeezing tight. Bright red blood soaks your leg, the metal, and the ground beneath you.

The teeth haven’t gone in as deep as you had feared, though. They were in there, most likely reaching bone, but it hadn’t torn off your foot or mangled it beyond repair like you had thought.

Still, as relieving as that is, it’s not a pretty sight.

Maybe it didn’t go all the way through because it’s been out here so long, and the springs are worn down? You think, head tilting to the side and breath coming in short gasps as you stare. Dad once talked about metal things like this that were strong enough to cut a whole foot off.

Your stomach lurches.

Tuk follows your eye and looks at your injury. She gasps again and sways where she was sitting, turning a pale blue tinged with green.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, Eywa, me too.”

You both sit there for another minute, struggling to get your stomachs under control. Once you succeed, you hesitantly examine your foot once more.

You wiggle the toes on your left foot, and then gently move the toes on your right. Pain tears up your leg like lightening and you gasp, immediately stilling. Once it fades back to a steady throb, you crack open an eye and think.

What’s the plan here, Ayviiri? You’re unable to walk, deep in unfamiliar and dangerous territory, at night with an unarmed child. What’s the plan?

You sit there and sort through your options, eventually coming up with what you hope is the best thing to do in this situation. You turn to Tuk, who stares back at you. In this darker lighting, the glow of her yellow eyes and bioluminescent dots outline her face fiercely and make her look like the night sky.

“Okay. Okay, here’s the plan, here’s what we’re going to do. It’s already dark and way past the time we were supposed to get back home, right? So that means Mom and Dad know something is wrong, which means they’ll start looking for us soon. It won’t take them long to find us, since they know where we usually play, and they’re great trackers. So, they’ll be able to find us soon, and we need to be here when they do.” You pause to take a breath before you continue.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to help me get to the curve of that tree, and we’re going to stay still and quiet and alert. We’ll wait for them to find us, but we need to make sure that nothing else finds us first, okay?” you say, pointing to the curved trunk of a tree just a few feet from where you and Tuk were sitting.

Tuk whimpers, ears flattening to the sides of her head. “Do you think anything will find us before they get here?”

“No, no, Tuk, that’s just in case, alright? Oh, Tuk, please don’t cry, we’re okay! We’re okay, I promise.” You do your best to comfort her, reaching over and dragging her into a hug as she struggles to stop her tears. She goes willingly, gently patting you on the shoulders instead of hugging you tightly like she usually would.

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for what’s about to happen.

“Alright. You ready?”

She leans back, wiping her eyes once more, and asks, “Are you?”

You hesitate and then nod your head, swallowing thickly. You know your weight is too much for little Tuk to drag even a few feet in one quick motion by herself. No, this was going to be a slow and bumpy ride.

This is going to hurt like hell.

You breathe deep and slow as Tuk moves around to your back. She slides her arms under your armpits, and you lift your arms to give her better access. She clasps her hands together in front of your chest, and her braids tickle the side of your face as she lowers her head to say, “On the count of three I’m going to start moving backward, okay?”

You nod. Tuk whispers, “One, two, three!”, and jerks you back roughly.

The movement jostles your leg and you howl, head tilting back as tears of pain prick your eyes. By the time your back finally hits the trunk of the tree, Tuk is out of breath and those tears are streaming down your face.

You rest your head against the tree, gasping for breath. Agony is all you can feel as you choke on air.

Tuk climbs into the enclosed curve of the tree trunk, sobbing. She curls into your side and lifts your arm out of the way so she can press up against your stomach, and you are barely able to wrap it around her.

Your ears eventually stop ringing and your vision clears. Tuk continues to cry, and the only sound you have the strength to muster up is a weak hum carrying the distant tune of one of your mother’s lullabies. You sit there, waiting, begging to be found by your parents.

Once you catch your breath, you raise your head. You look at your surroundings and straighten into a position that’s more sitting up than it is leaning on the trunk.

Have to stay awake and alert, you think, shaking your head to clear it of fuzziness. Have to keep my senses sharp and ready for whatever might come.

There weren’t many predators around this area, but you never know what animal might be drawn to the scent of your fresh blood. You draw out the knife strapped to the thigh of your right leg as discreetly as you can. You don’t want to scare Tuk any more than the poor girl already has been.

Just in case. You hold the knife in a tight grip. Just in case.

You had considered letting Tuk retrace her steps and head back towards High Camp but had discarded that idea as soon as it had appeared. There were too many threats and unknown factors; any other weapons laying hidden under the dirt, any predators who might be in the area, the chance she may get lost. All were good reasons to stay together and wait it out. Your wound was in a non-vital spot, and while it was incredibly painful and still bleeding, it wasn’t worth risking Tuk’s life just to get help faster.

Time trickles by slowly mostly in silence, other than the times you hum softly to Tuk. Tuk remains curled up at your side, faced streaked with tears even as more than an hour passes. Every now and then you can feel her whole body shudder. The night air is warm, so you know it’s mostly from stress and fear.

You both remain sitting up against the curve of the tree, hidden out of view. At this point you have to pee, but there is no way in hell you are moving your ass out of this spot unless it is time to go home.

You struggle to remain alert, eyes wide and ears flicking with every sound you hear. The buzzing of the insects and the distant chattering of syaksyuk are comforting sounds. It was when those sounds stopped that you needed to be worried.

Your chin just began to drop onto your chest, eyes drifting closed, when you heard rapidly approaching footsteps coming from the trees in front of you.

Your eyes pop open and you tense, head shooting up. Your hand had slackened around the knife so you strengthen your grip. Your heart begins to race in your chest, and you prepare yourself to fight for the lives of you and your sister.

Just as you are about to shake Tuk awake and tell her to run, the broad, tall frame of your dad leaps out of the branches.

He turns to you, and you can see the exact moment he realizes he had found his children. Relief fills his expression, and he gasps like he was finally able to breathe for the first time in hours.

“Ayviiri, Tuk!” He runs to your side and kneels beside you, hands fluttering uncharacteristically around your face and body like he doesn’t know where to touch.

He turns on his heels and shouts, “Neytiri! Neytiri, I found them, they’re over here!”

He turns back to you. Your head is starting to drop again, exhaustion and relief and joy clashing in your mind. You can barely manage a tired, “Hey, Dad”.

You’re not even surprised to see him; you know there is not a single force on this planet that would keep your mom and dad away from their children.

There was crashing through the leaves and bushes your dad had come through before your mother burst out, eyes wild and teeth bared, clearly expecting a fight. Once she realizes there is no predator here she relaxes, only to tense up again when she sees us.

A cry burst from her throat and she runs to us, sliding on her knees as she falls down next to you. Her hands flutter around you, just like Dad’s had, and the similarity makes a smile pull on the corners of your lips. 

You’re sure you look terrible, hair, face, and body covered in dirt and leaves and bruises. Your face feels swollen, and the various cuts sting.

Your parent’s voices crash over your senses, asking all kinds of questions, but the only thing you can do is smile. So happy to see them, you think, eyes drifting shut once more. I think I would cry some more if I wasn’t so damn tired.

“Hey, hey, stay with me. Stay awake, baby girl, hey.” Dad pats your face gently, his own face close to yours. Your groan, opening your eyes once more.

“What?” you say grouchily. You just want to sleep, please, please.

Dad smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Where’s that attitude coming from, huh? We’re so happy to see you guys, you know.”

Mom covers her mouth with her hand, gasping with relief and her eyes shining. Tears leak down her face. She smiles at you, reaching out to gently grasp the hand still holding the knife. She takes it from you before holding your hand.  

Tuk finally starts to shift, awakening from her deep sleep. With the way your parents had come crashing in here, making all sorts of noise, her sleep was a true testament to her exhaustion.

She opens her eyes fully. Once she sees her parents hovering over her, she bursts into tears.

She reaches her arms out in the universal sign of ‘pick me up’, and your mother snatches her up and into her arms before you can blink. Both of them cry while holding onto one another, Mom shushing Tuk and rocking her back and forth.

Her eyes met yours over Tuk’s shoulder, and you see pride and gratefulness shining bright in them. You shrug your shoulders, as if to say ‘duh’. It wasn’t like there was any way you weren’t going to keep your little sister safe.

Your dad turns your face back towards him with gentle fingers placed on your chin. His lips thin and his eyes narrow as he takes in the mess of your face and upper body.

“Ayviiri, where are you hurt?”

“My leg, mostly.” You gasp out wetly. “I didn’t even see it.”

When he sees the metal wrapped around your foot and digging into your bloody flesh, he hisses and bares his teeth, ears pulling back and muscles tensing. You can see his tail flicking irritably behind him. Anger and hate twist his face into an expression you have seen many times before, always when the Sky People were mentioned.

“Fuck, Ayviiri.”

You have enough energy to bark out a short, incredulous laugh.

“I fucking know, Dad. Just my luck, right?”

Mom looks over Dad’s shoulder at your leg and hisses as well, her own tail flicking. Fear crosses her face, and she looks younger than you’ve ever seen her before.

“Sky People.”

Dad gently brushes a finger against the metal, yellow-green eyes flicking up to your face to take in your reaction. When your expression doesn’t change, his face hardens with resolve, and he grabs onto it more firmly, trying to get it to release.

You yelp, entire body jumping with the pain that shoots through your body. You try to lean away, but there’s nowhere to go.

Mom jumps with your yelp, hand grasping onto your left leg to comfort you. You look at her, eyes filling with tears. The weight of everything comes crashing down.

“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad.” It comes out as a croak.

You realize it’s the first time you’ve seen your dad all day. The stress and worry on his face make your heart squeeze, and before you know it you’re crying, again. You’re not sure if the tears are from relief or shame or pain, but they roll down your cheeks all the same.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t even see it, and I-I know we went past the line, and it was all my fault, it just happened so fast, and-”

He interrupts you, shushing gently. He rests his palm gently against your face, and you lean into his touch, eyes closing. “Hey, hey, hey, we’re right here, you’re okay. It’s alright, we’re not mad at you. Baby girl, we’re just glad that you’re both still alive.” His voice breaks, and he smiles.

You nod and swallow thickly, face still cradled in his palm.

You’re so, so tired.

He moves around until he is cupping your face with both hands, shaking you gently.

“You need to stay awake, baby. Open your eyes, Ayviiri.”

You whimper but do so, sight blurry. You can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows. He turns his head to look at Mom.

They have a conversation with their eyes that you cannot decipher. Mom’s eyes fill with tears again, brows furrowing and lips frowning, but she straightens up and swallows. She nods her head once, firmly, resolute.

Dad nods back and turns to you. He takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. Okay, Ayviiri, you with me?”

You groan and nod, making clear eye contact.

“Alright, that’s good, baby girl. I’m going to need you to stay awake for just a little longer, okay? We’re going to pull this thing off you and then we’re going home, alright?”

Your eyes pop open and all forms of tiredness leave your body just like that. You tense and your heart begins to pound. Your leg is mostly numb now, but you don’t want to take any chances.

“Hey, woah, wait, wait, wait! Wait, Dad, hold on a second!” You clench your leg muscles and try to move away, like an idiot, and you gasp and go still. Panic refuses to leave you.

“We can wait! Can’t we wait until we get home, Dad, that would be better!”

Dad leans back and considers that option for a moment. Then he nods his head and moves his hands away from your leg.

You gasp in relief, chest heaving. You were only putting off the inevitable, but still, you’d take it.

“We’re still going to need to lift you up, Ayviiri. Come on, let’s go.” He rises to his full stance. Mom stands as well, lifting Tuk with her. Tuk’s face is turned away, buried into her neck, and you can’t see if she was still awake or not.

Lucky, you think sourly.

Dad walks over to your left side, where Tuk had previously sat next to you. He squats back down and curls his arms under your shoulders and your knees. You lift up your body as best you can to give him more room, breathing deeply in preparation.

At least it’s not Tuk moving me around again, you think. If I can survive that, then I can certainly survive this.

Still, that thought doesn’t stop you from tensing.

Dad lowers his face to yours, and says, “I’m sorry, Aryviiri, this is probably going to hurt.”

You barely have time to nod before he’s lifting you up and into his arms. You squeeze your eyes and prepare for the pain, but the only thing you feel is a slight twinge from your foot.

You blink, look at your dad, and grin, impressed.

He grins back down at you, holding you gently. Your mother moves to stand at his side, stroking the top of your head one last time. And then, finally, you are off back home.

------

The journey back is restless. Dad refuses to let you sleep, worried you may have a concussion, and so you stare at the sky as your father carries you. The gentle rocking of his arms tempts you, but you do your best to stay awake. Besides, the way your body aches and stings is enough to keep you from falling asleep. Dad talks to you about nothing in particular as you move through the foliage. You close your eyes because it stings to have them open, but you do not sleep.

You arrive back at High Camp in less than an hour. It’s late, so there aren’t any other people around. Your family tent is still lit, though, and Kiri, Neteyam, and Lo’ak are still awake, waiting for you to get back.

You’ll never forget the expressions of relief on their faces when they see you and Tuk. They crowd around all four of you, asking questions and talking in frantic voices.

“Shit, Ayviiri! You look awful, what the hell happened?” Lo’ak asks loudly, face lowering to yours, yellow eyes flickering across your face. You’re still in Dad’s arms, swaying back and forth as the family walks as one to the medical center in the middle of High Camp.

“Nice to see you too, little brother. To answer your question, well, you know me. Just can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

Lo’ak scoffs and crosses his arms. “You get into less trouble than Neteyam, and that’s saying something. What really happened?”

Before you can reply, Kiri knocks her hip into Lo’ak’s. “She’s clearly not ready for conversation, Lo’ak. The details can wait until after they get checked out and rest.”

Lo’ak grumbles but relents under her fierce stare, and you smile, tilting your head back and enjoying the quiet.

Neteyam walks on the other side of Dad, and you can feel his worried gaze flickering between you and Tuk. You open your eyes and wink at him, and he smiles and lets out a breath, relieved. It couldn’t be that bad if you were making jokes.

You all shuffle into the large medical tent. It was a spacious area, filled with a few cots and medical supplies. You and every other child of the Omaticaya knew this place well, having been here many times for checkups and bandages for various cuts and bruises.

Dad lowers you gently onto the cot closest to the entrance of the tent. Lo’ak and Kiri blanch when they see the state of your leg, having walked on the other side of you and only seeing your bruised face.

“Holy shit, Ayviiri.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“I know. At this point I can’t feel much of it, but it hurt like a bitch when it happened.”

Lo’ak nods, dazed, and reaches out to touch it. Kiri smacks his hand away, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“I’m going to go wake Norman, okay? I’ll be right back.” Dad says, looking at you. You nod, and he pats you on the shoulder before jogging out of the tent.

Mom has lowered Tuk into her own cot right next to yours. Tuk is utterly unconscious; nothing could wake her up now. She was exhausted, but other than being dirty and tired, she was completely fine. Mom moves her braids away from her face, caressing her head.

Thinking about what could have happened to your little sister still makes you sick to your stomach. Even your own injury, while painful and bloody, was nowhere near as bad as it could have been.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to relax into the soft bedding of the cot. It could have been so much worse, you think. Thank you, Ewya. Thank you.

Norman jogs into the tent in his human form, tiny and pale white. His dark hair is still mussed from sleep. You can see his tired eyes widen through his mask when he takes you in, and he immediately starts examining you, startling when he sees the bloody state of your leg.

“Hey, Mister Spellman. How’s it going?” You grin tiredly.

Dad walks into the tent a moment later, putting an enormous hand on Norman’s tiny shoulder. The contrast between their size and the stark colors of their skin makes you giggle, head dizzy.

“How’s it looking, Norm?” Dad asks, referring to the state of your leg. He shoots you a worried look at your soft giggles. “I also think she might have hit her head pretty hard.”

Norman tilts his head to the side and reaches out to poke at it gently. “Well, from what I can tell, it didn’t sever anything important. It’s got itself in deep, though, that’s for sure. Can you tell me what happened, Ayviiri?”

You wince and shake your head to regain your thoughts, but the only thing that does is make your head pound even more. “I was chasing after Tuk too fast and wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping. Next thing I knew I was on the ground and this fucker was in me.”

Norman nods in understanding, turning around to put on a pair of plastic gloves. He shuffles around the tent, little hands moving around and grabbing various medical supplies to place next to your bed. “Okay, and did you hit your head at all?”

You squint, struggling to recall the events. “Uh, kind of. Once when I tripped over a root, and then again when that happened. Pretty sure my face took most of the impact, though.”

He nods again and examines your wound once more. A few minutes pass as he pokes and prods. Eventually, he pulls his hands back and says, “Well. The good news is that it’s unlikely to cause any permanent damage. Bad news is that teeth are in there pretty deep, and it’s going to hurt like hell to get it to let go.”

You’re exhausted, filthy, and every part of you aches. You don’t even care about what it’s going to feel like. You just want to get clean and then sleep until next week.

Your lips thin and your eyes narrow. “Let’s get it done, then.”

Norman pulls away and starts grabbing materials and scary-looking medical tools out of drawers. You look away before you can start freaking out, closing your eyes and leaning back into the cot. You reach for Dad’s hand and he gives it to you without hesitation. His hand is dry and warm. It engulfs your own, but the hold it has on yours is gentle. You squeeze and he squeezes back.

“Can I get some water, first?” you ask. Your voice is starting to sound like you’ve swallowed rocks.

Lo’ak leaps to his feet and leaves to find some. He comes back a few moments later, and you snatch the water out of his hands quickly. You tilt it back and let it flow into your mouth, swallowing rapidly. The cool, sweet liquid wets your throat. It’s so relieving that you drink until the container has run dry, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you give it back to Lo’ak. He leaves two more times to get more water until you’re satiated.

By that time, Norman has collected all the instruments he needs, washing his hands in the water bin and using soap to disinfect himself.

“This is going to hurt, but it’ll be over quickly. We’ll disinfect the injury after the metal is pulled off, and then we’ll wrap it. You need to keep your leg still until then, okay? In fact, Neteyam, come hold her leg down and keep it as still as you can. Lo’ak, be prepared to help if we need it.” He moves down to the foot of the bed where your legs rest.

“Ayviiri, you’re probably going to pass out for a little bit, so don’t be surprised when that happens.”

You squeeze Dad’s hand tighter, choosing to look at the ceiling of the tent rather than at what’s about to happen. Your heart rate increases out of fear of the pain that’s about to come, but you breathe slow and deep to keep the panic at bay.

Mom moves from where she had been sitting on Tuk’s bed to grab your other hand. With both parents by your side and siblings in the room to support you, you know you’re going to be okay.

“Alright, Ayviiri. Take some deep breaths for me. Are you ready?”

You breathe out one last time and nod.

The last thing you feel is a sharp, popping tug on your leg. Pain explodes behind your eyes, your vision turns black, and you’re out.

------

Your brain slowly starts to recognize your surroundings as you wake up. You can tell it’s morning again, just by the warm light that glows behind your eyelids and the sound of birds singing through the camp. If you listen harder, you can hear the murmurings of your people and the distant laughter of children.  

Your lips pull upwards into a small smile, eyes still closed.

Your mouth and tongue feel thick and fuzzy. You wiggle your fingers and crack open an eye, taking account of your body. The pain you had felt last night has faded from sharp misery to a dull ache.

You groan and slowly sit up, bones cracking like you’d aged at least thirty years. Once you are upright, you look at the white, thick bandage covering a good portion of your lower right leg.

You wiggle the toes on both legs.

Other than a slight twinge, no extreme pain can be felt. You let out the breath you had been holding, suddenly extremely relieved, and you flop back down onto your cot.

I’m okay,you think, stunned. My leg is okay. Tuk is okay. We’re okay.

You lay there, simply processing. Eventually Mom walks into the tent, holding onto a basket filled with fruit. She takes one look at you and drops the basket with a thud, moving to your side in a few short, quick steps.

“You are awake!” she gasps, gripping your hand. “I am so relieved, Ayviiri! How do you feel, are you in any pain?”

 You shake your head gently and grip her hand just as tight. “No, Mom, I’m okay, I promise.”

You smile at her and she smiles at you. She cups your cheek with her hand, and her smile fades.

“My daughter. What happened?”

Your own smile drops, but you sit up and explain what happened. How you and Tuk had been planning to return before it got dark, how Tuk had playfully run away and you had chased her, how you had accidentally crossed into forbidden territory without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, Mom, it was my fault. I didn’t even know we were that close, and-”

She shushes you and shakes her head. “No, my daughter. It was an accident. You and Tuk are alright, that is what matters.”

You nod, eyes stinging.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She presses a kiss to your forehead and stands up.

“I will tell the family you are awake. I know Tuk is very interested in seeing you, as is everyone else.”

“How long was I out?” you ask, curious. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours.

“Two days, my daughter. You were exhausted and injured. Your mind and body needed time of rest to heal.

Damn, you think, surprised.

“Even after all that rest you will be confined to your bed for at least another week. No walking on that leg.” She gives you a stern look.

Mom leaves and quickly returns with all of your siblings, who pile onto your cot, clapping your back and arms and thighs. Hands and limbs flail all over the place as you struggle to support everyone’s weight and keep them all upright, but you don’t tell them to get off.

They’re happy to see you awake, voices chattering and asking questions without pausing to let you answer. You don’t mind, though. You’re just happy to be here with them.

“I’m okay, I’m okay–ow, Neteyam, you’re leaning on my tail!”

Eventually, Dad makes them get off you. They grumble but comply. You hadn’t even heard him arrive with your sibling’s loud voices clamoring in your ears, but there he was, arm wrapped around Mom’s waist and expression fond.

Tuk jumps up again and wraps an arm around you, burying her little face into the curve of your neck. You wrap your arms around her in turn, squeezing her tight. Neither of you says anything, just hold onto each other.

She lets you go after a few moments, eyes full of tears. Thankfully, none of them spill over as she sniffles. She looks tired but physically healthy. To you, that is worth all the pain in the world.

You gaze around at your family as they stand in the tent, all trying to talk at the same time. It’s chaos, but there is nowhere you’d rather be.

Thank you for letting me stay with them, Ewya. Thank you for letting Tuk come back unharmed. Thank you.

Your eyes start to become heavy, and regardless of the noise and the fact you had just slept for two days straight, weariness begins to creep into your bones once more. You relax in the cot, safe and surrounded by your family. With that one last thought, you drift off to sleep.

[bluedemon1995]

Kidge Fall Event 2024-Late but still committed!

Sorry about the lateness but hopefully can catch up one day

Oct 23-Keith birthday

Keith heard a buzz. Then another. And another. Ugh. That’s right, today was his birthday. He rolled over, ignoring the demand of the phone and tried to go back to sleep. Keith hated his birthday. When he was younger his dad would make a big deal out of it. Chocolate chip pancakes. Breakfast in bed. No school, cause his dad would always keep him home. Guy time. They would go hiking or they would spend the day at the fire house. His best birthdays really were just a day they spent together.

But then, it ended. He was alone and no one acknowledged it. And he never really told people his birthday. Instead, he wanted to forget. Push it out of his mind. Obviously, people knew but he never did anything special. Fast forward to this year. He knew his mom wanted to do something, but he just couldn’t.

That said, Keith dug into bed, pulled up the covers tight and went back to sleep.

Lance on the other hand, grinned Operation KB is in effect! He knew his friend wanted to hide for his birthday, but those days were over! He now knew everyone’s birthday, signs and rising moons. There was no way Keith was going to hide ALL day.

He sent the group message.

*Mission on. Everyone knows their part. Team Voltron!”

Shiro grinned, thinking Keith had no idea of what was in store for him.

Hunk started cooking and baking. He had a list of food for each paladin, what they liked and didn’t. Keith was going to eat well today!

Katie nodded. She had a clear job to do.

Keith woke to a bounce. Slowly opening his eyes, he squinted in the light…and saw a pixie?

“Dude, is this new? Sleeping until noon?” Katie murmured. She risked a hand and patted his head gently. She always thought people weren’t gentle enough with him.

Keith blinked. “Katie?” Shit, quickly changing gears he continued, “Pidge, hat are you doing here?”

Before she replied, Keith realized he was only in his boxers. FUCKKKKKK.

“Well, hello to you to. SOOOO glad you stopped by. And, sure I’d love for you to show me around my first time on the Underworld.”

Keith blinked. Was this the first time she was on the ship? Crap. “So, um, I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“Yup. Kolivan asked for my help with your tech and of course, as I’m here there is some issue that made him Un-Av-able. Whatever.”

Keith nods. “Um, okay. I can be ready in 30 if you want to come back?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Katie quickly remembered Lance’s instructions. “I’ll just let Griffin know that I’m free for a bit. Take your time. He was my ride ya know? So, we came here together.”

Keith froze. No. No way in hell. “Yeah, um, no worries. You know, you don’t need to leave. I’ll just um, get ready in a minute and we can do whatever. Is he um, your ride back? Because Cosmo can take you back when you are done. In fact, where is he? We can just tell him now- he can get back to base. I’m sure he’s got stuff he needs to do.”

Katie tried to hide her grin. She had no clue how Lance knew he would dig in but, luckily, it was dark in his room. “Oh, okay, I’ll let him know. Why don’t you get dressed? Let’s get this show on the road.”

Keith nodded, jumping up, he once again realized a second too late that he was in his boxers. Feeling his face heat, he quickly grabbed some clothes and ran into the bathroom.

As he took a quick shower, his thoughts were filled with her. She cut her hair again, it was in a cute messy short hair style. No glasses she must be feeling comfortable. With fucking Griffin. Annoyed, he quickly dried off, absently wondering who else came with them. And damn did she smell good. No lie, it was his favorite scent.

He quickly threw on his clothes and brushed his teeth. Where should he show her first? Maybe they should get breakfast. Then they could see Kolivan and his mom. No, what was he thinking, the lab or the tech room might be a better bet. He opened the door and froze. She was laying on his bed, shoes off, holo screen in hand. Her head on his pillow, her foot absently swinging in time to something only she heard. Her scent in head. His hand itched to touch. His lips itched to taste.

In that moment, he thought back to his dad telling him on a camping trip, “Hey kiddo, it’s your birthday, you don’t need any candles or cake. Make a wish and it will come true. Birthday magic.”

He closed his eyes and wished…he wanted, wished to have Katie forever.

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 13

Chapter 12 here.

Sammy hesitates before getting into the car. Is she allowed to sit up front?

“What are you doing, Sam? Are you just going to stand there all day? Or you going to come to movie night? Sit up here with me!” Alyssa points to the front seat.

“Thanks Allie, I wasn’t sure if I was allowed.”

“Tonight’s not the night to worry about that, okay? I told you, tonight isn’t the night to worry about this morning, or the future, or anything. Tonight is to just have fun.”

Fifteen minutes later, Alyssa and Sammy walk into Alyssa’s parents house. “Hey guys,” Alyssa yells, “wow, something smells real good!”

“Hi honey,” Alyssa’s mom, Carol answers, “your dad couldn’t help himself, like always. He went crazy in the kitchen. Looks like there was an explosion in the kitchen. How are you Sammy, dear?”

“I’m going great, Carol!” Sammy says, giving her a hug.

“I’m so glad to hear it! Linds should be coming down any minute. She decided to take a shower a few minutes ago. Why she can never do it early, I’ll never understand.”

Sammy laughs, “I think I spent more time waiting for her than I ever did studying.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me!” Alyssa’s dad, Henry boomed, “how are you Sammy? You thirsty? We got your favorite Diet Coke, just for you!”

“I’d love one!”

Henry brings Sammy a cold can of Diet Coke as everyone goes into the family room, finding spots on the couch.

“Henry dear, can we skip football for just one day?” Carol insisted.

“Sure thing, that’s why I got YoutubeTV on my phone, so I can watch my game while you girls watch whatever it is you girls watch,” Henry chuckled.

“Hi Sam!” Lindsay screamed running down the stairs, “you ready for movie night?”

“You know it!” Sammy responded.

“Well I thought it was movie night, girls. Night being the key word,” Henry quipped, “but it doesn’t look like night to me, its barely dusk. I haven’t destroyed Mom’s kitchen all afternoon to not serve my girls dinner!”

“I am hungry,” Alyssa said, “and the day I turn down a meal from Dad is the day I die!”

As they walked to the dinner table, Sammy saw that Henry wasn’t joking about cooking all day. This made Thanksgiving day meals look tiny in comparison.

“I couldn’t decide what to make,” Henry joked, “so I didn’t decide. I just made all of it”

“Come sit by me, Sam. I want to talk to you!” Lindsay demanded.

For the next hour, Sammy and Lindsay were lost in conversation at they ate dinner. Gossiping about boys, talking about their favorite shows, and wondering if their nerdy math teacher would ever make a move on Ms. Green, the science teacher.

Alyssa watched Sammy, taking it all in. This is exactly what she hoped for. Sammy had completely forgot about this morning, engrossed in conversation with Lindsay. At least for tonight, Sammy could just be Sam. Though Sammy was flying through those Diet Cokes. Alyssa hoped that the two stuffers she secretly added to Sammy’s diaper would hold up. The last thing she wanted to do was remind Sammy about that.

With dinner finished, everyone shifted to the family room to watch the featured presentation, Mean Girls. Unsurprisingly, Henry told everyone that he’s clear the dishes. But the sound of the football announcer’s could just be heard.

“Mean Girls was the perfect choice, Linds.” Sammy said, sitting next to Lindsay, “you’re right, Tina Fey is definitely a comedic genius.”

Sammy and Lindsay continued to chatter throughout the first hour of the movie. Carol laughed, wondering how the girls were barely paying attention, but still managed to quote every line of the movie as they happened.

Lindsay watched as Sam’s eyes grew heavy, cuddling up next to her. She could tell Sam was definitely struggling to stay awake. But, at the same time, she felt a wave of love for Sam as she tried to stay awake. She, like everyone else—but Sammy—knew what this night meant. Knew that this was the last time she’d ever watch Mean Girls with Sam.

“Come cuddle up with me, Sam,” Lindsay said, pulling Sam against her.

Sam looked up at her, smiling. Tired, but content. “Thanks, Linds, this is super comfortable.”

Lindsay looked down at Sam as her eyes grew heavier and heavier, running her fingers through her hair. Sam was grinning as she fell asleep.

Lindsay looked over at Alyssa, eyes full of tears. “Do you think she had fun tonight, Allie?”

“I know she did, Linds,” she responded, sniffling as she fought back tears, “thank you for this. I know she’ll always appreciate you being there for her tonight. I know everything’s gonna be changing soon.”

“When can I came see her next?”

“Give her a few days to adjust. I know she’ll be happy to see you, but the next few days will be a big transition for her. We’re going to Littles’R’Us tomorrow to get her crib, changing table, car seat, diapers, and clothes. She’s going to be very emotional as everything changes. I want her to be a used to her knew routine before anyone else sees her.”

“I understand Allie. It’s going to be hard for me too, if you can believe it. But I know it’s going to be way harder for her.”

Lindsay continues to stroke Sammy’s hair as they continue to watch the movie.

Not long after, Lindsay wrinkles her nose. “Allie, I think its time to be a Caregiver…”

Alyssa laughs as the smell hits her nose too. I think you’re right. She gently picks Sammy up, trying not to wake her as she lays her down on the floor to change her diaper, glad Sammy slept through the whole thing.

Go to Chapter Fourteen.

[originalhybridloverfics-backup]

Ch 17 Gift You Gave Me

Felicity frowned as the smell of coffee filled her apartment on Saturday morning. 

Oliver turned away from the stove and set a plate filled with banana chocolate chip pancakes on the counter next to several bowls of cut fruit and a plate of bacon.

The sound of her front door opened and closed, but she paid it no mind, watching Oliver move easily through her kitchen. 

“Something smells good,” John appeared in her doorway. He slid his jacket off, placing it on the back of a chair.

“I thought having breakfast before I put you to work would be a fair trade.”

“You okay?” John asked at her downtrodden tone.

“No, I’m being tortured.” She watched longingly as Oliver passed a fresh cup of coffee to John.

“I could make you a cup,” Oliver suggested. “I’m sure one cup won’t hurt the baby.” 

“Really? That’s what my mother thought, yet here I am 26 years later, no filter, says more than I should and can get obsessed.” Felicity shook her head. “No one wants a mini Felicity running around here.”

“I’ll take a mini Felicity any day.” John said, stealing a piece of bacon.

“Exactly.” Oliver pointed at John. “We would be so lucky.” he looked at Felicity. “You’re brilliant and sometimes can’t contain your thoughts. That’s not a bad thing and you’re determined, not obsessive. I don’t care what anyone says. You turned out amazing and so will baby Smoak.”

“Thank you for saying so, but I promise myself no coffee,” Felicity poured herself a glass of orange juice. “But for future reference, as soon as I give birth, I want coffee. Not just any coffee, but the best this side of the world has to offer.”

“You’ll have it,” John promised, drinking from his cup.

“You’re a good man, John Diggle.” Felicity tipped her glass at him.

John chuckled as a knock sounded through her apartment.

“That’s probably Thea and Roy,” said Felicity. “She texted me. They were on their way about half an hour ago.”

“Sit, eat.” Oliver set his hands on her shoulders, keeping her in her seat. “I’ll get it.”

“Are you good?” John ask when it was just the two of them. “I know everything is happening fast.”

“It is, and it can get overwhelming at times,” Felicity admitted. “but Oliver has been so great. He’s always there to calm me down with just the right thing to say.” 

John nodded. “I think the two of you are going to be fine.”

“Yeah, we are,” Felicity agreed, popping a grape into her mouth. “We all are.”

“Something smells good.” Thea entered the room carrying a brown paper bag.

“That would be your brother’s cooking.” Felicity told her as the younger girl took a seat next to her.

“Oh, so you don’t want these cream cheese bagels.”

Felicity pulled the bag to her. “Thea Queen, I love you,”

Thea laughed as Roy moved about her kitchen, making himself a plate.

“You only came for the food,” Oliver accused, sitting on Felicity’s other side.

“Well, it wasn’t so I could be put to work.” Roy cast a look at Felicity. “No offense.” 

Felicity waved him off as she ate her cream cheese bagel. “None taken.”

The group enjoyed their shared breakfast, making idle chitchat.

Felicity insisted on cleaning up, and surprisingly Thea helped her, roping Roy into it as well. 

“Where do you want us to start first?” John asked.

“The closet, then my guest room, followed by the living room.” Felicity answered. “I’ll work on my bedroom last.”

With further instructions, everyone set to work. Roy and Thea took on the guest rooms. John on the closets and pantry, Oliver and Felicity on the kitchen.

A little after 12 in the afternoon, Felicity’s doorbell ranged. Felicity excused herself before anyone else could to answer the door.

Felicity didn’t know who it could be. Everyone who she spent her free time with was already here.

Felicity opened the door and was greeted with a high pitch squeal, the sight of her mother jumping up and down in a short blue mini dress, makeup and hair done perfectly. “Baby girl!”

“Mom!” Felicity exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!”

“After you told me I had a grandbaby on the way, I had to visit.” Donna Smoak crossed the threshold, throwing her arms around Felicity, hugging her tightly.

“Felicity!” Oliver paused as Felicity pushed an older blonde woman off her. “Is everything okay?” 

Felicity turned wide eyes to Oliver as the others trailed in behind him.

“Oh my god, you’re Oliver Queen!” Donna exclaimed, pulling Felicity back toward her. “Why is Oliver Queen in your apartment!” her eyes widened, before she screeched in shock. “Is he the father?!”

“Mom, please,” embarrassment flooded Felicity’s being.

“Mom?” Oliver echoed, before plastering on his camera smile. “Mrs. Smoak, hi, Felicity didn’t mention you were coming.”

“She didn’t know. I wanted it to be a surprise.” Donna batted her eyelashes at Oliver. “Please call me Donna, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver flashed her another grin. “Oliver, please.” 

“So, are you the father of my grandchild?” 

“Mom!” Felicity exclaimed.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Donna waved off. “Why don’t you introduce me to all your friends?” 

Thea came forward with a smile. “Hi, I’m Thea Queen, Oliver’s sister. I’ve been dying to meet you since Felicity told us about you.”

“Felicity’s talked about me?” said Donna. “That’s surprising.”

Felicity heaved a tired sigh, and Oliver instinctively took her hand, offering support.

Thea pulled Roy forward. “And this is my boyfriend, Roy.”

Donna looked at John expectantly.

John extended his hand. “John Diggle, ma ‘am. It’s nice to meet you.”

Donna shook his hand before falling back to stand beside Felicity, whispering not so quietly. “They’re all so beautiful.”

Thea grinned. “We were just about to take a break from packing and grab some lunch? You should join us.”

“Packing?” Donna turned to Felicity. “Packing for? Where are you going?”

Thea realized too late that Felicity had not told her mother about moving. “Why don’t we go get the food and let you two talk?”

While everyone filed out of the-room, Oliver hesitated by the door.

“Bring me back some mint chip.” Felicity said, silently telling him without the actual words to go. She would be fine.

Oliver nodded. He kissed her temple before heading out with the others.

Donna Frowned. “Gotta say I’m not used to clearing out a crowd.”

Felicity turned away, walking through her apartment. “They were trying to be polite and give us some privacy to talk.”

Donna followed her into the kitchen, taking in the packed boxes. “You’re moving? Were you going to tell me?”

“Honestly? No.” Felicity turned to face her mother. “What would be the point?”

“What would be the point?” Donna repeated. “I’m your mother. I should know where you live. How else am I supposed to visit you?”

“Let’s be serious. You’re not one for visiting me in Starling.” Felicity replied. “This is only the fourth time since I moved here that you came to see me.”

“You always visited me.” Donna argued. “Don’t you think I want to see you more? You’re my baby.”

Felicity was ready to retort with a short reply, but stopped as she considered her mother’s words.

Now that she was going to be a mother, she could see things a little differently and could understand what her mother was trying to say.

Her child wasn’t even born, and she loved them with all her heart.

She couldn’t imagine going a single day without them and yet, she and her own mother went months without seeing each other, weeks without speaking.

The very thought of the distance with her own child killed her and made her want to try with her mother. 

“I would love to be able to just take off work and visit whenever I’d like, but I can’t. I have to provide for myself, just like I always have.”

“I know.” Felicity sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry. I know how hard you work.” 

Donna had always tried to give her the best, and it wasn’t easy when she was a single mother working double shifts in 6 inch heels. 

“Look, can we just start over?” Felicity asked. 

Donna heard the plea in her voice and couldn’t say no. Besides, arguing with her daughter wasn’t good for her or the baby.

“If that’s what you want,” Donna agreed easily.

“It is.” Felicity sat down at the counter and waited for her mother to join her. “I know I should include you in my life more. I’ll do better.”

“It’s okay, baby, I know how hard and scary this can all be.” Donna took her hands in her own.

Felicity found the words came freely as she told her mother almost everything.

She told her about being in the public eye, how it was a shock to learn she was pregnant. She told her how she was moving in with Oliver, how supportive and amazing Oliver was being about everything.

She didn’t tell her about Tommy. She couldn’t. It was complicated enough as it was, however, as she opened up to her mother, she felt a weight she didn’t even know was weighing her down lift.

It was Freeing.

[hotchners-wifey]

Save Her

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader, Platonic!BAU x Reader, Morgan!Sister Reader

Summary: Y/N has a past she's never told anyone about, she was involved in some heavy things when she lived in England with her Aunt and Uncle. Things she thought were murdered along with her best friend, things she thought went missing with her boyfriend. Things that followed her to Quantico, Virginia. Previous Chapter~ Next Chapter Chapter Warnings: hangovers and peer pressures

________________________________________ Four days before Y/N disappears ________________________________________

I woke up before everyone else and decided to grab some Aspirin and start cooking some Waffles, bacon and eggs for the girls knowing that when they wake up they'll be hungry and have a pounding headache. Right as I finished cooking I turned and spotted the them waking up to the smell of food. JJ got up first and walked to the kitchen, "I smell coffee." was the first thing she said. I chuckled and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and filled up the mug. "Did you want any creamer?" She nodded and I walked to the fridge, "I got caramel and vanilla, which one do you want?" She looked up with her hands shielding her eyes from the lights, "Vanilla please." I nodded grabbing the creamer and noticed Penny and Emily were both sitting at the island as well. "Good morning you two, how did you guys sleep?" Emily just groaned and looked at the coffee in the pot, I nodded grabbing two more mugs and the creamer. "Well I take it you guys had a lot of fun last night." JJ groaned behind her coffee mug, "I never want to experience last night ever again." I laughed loudly causing all three of them to groan at the loud noise. "Sorry, but if you don't normally drink that much why did you?" They looked at me like I had three heads. "Because you were going out with us." Penny exclaimed with a slightly upset face, "And you were supposed to be getting plastered with us." Emily continued I smiled innocently, "Well if I had gotten plastered with you then who was going to drive us home?" JJ thought for a minute, "Normally when we go out to drink and have a night out the guys all take one vehicle in which either Spence or Hotch drives because they don't drink like that either." I shook my head and grabbed some plates, "Well how was I supposed to know that? I never go out with you guys remember?" JJ shrugged "Well it doesn't matter now. The real question is why you cooked food for us when we could've gotten room service?" I placed their plates of food in front of them and shrugged, "I felt like you guys could use a home cooked meal with a touch of motherly love. This is my mothers special breakfast that she would make us every Sunday morning before church." Penny's head shot up at that, "This is one of Mrs. Morgan's famous meals?" I nodded and smiled, "Yeah Mom taught me how to make everything I cook or bake. She was my personal chef when I was a kid, Dad never wanted Mom to teach Derek how to cook because he was a firm believer that Derek should have someone take care of him but she always secretly taught him when she taught me and my sisters." Emily and JJ were shocked to find out that Derek knows how to co. "Don't tell him I told you that, he'll kill me." Emily snorted, "Oh I'm definitely making a joke about this." I sighed in defeat, once Emily said she was going to do something there was no getting her to back down from it. We spent the day watching movies and eating snacks and eventually after the girls were feeling better we went to the mall and bought ourselves some new clothes, Penny bought some new trinkets for her desk and I found the cutest Doctor Who paper weight for Spencer. "Really?" Emily questions when she sees me approach them with the paper weight in my hands, "What? It's for Spence. You know how much he loves these little things." Penny laughed, "Of course you know that Y/N." I turned to look at her confused, "What's that supposed to mean Penny?" She laughed and shrugged. "I'm just saying you know a lot about what Spencer Reid likes, way more than we do." I nodded, "Yeah of course I do because I actually listen to him." JJ smiled, "Guys just let her buy the paper weight for Spence, Penny you buy things for Derek and Emily you buy things for your cat Sergio. The people and pets you love deserve gifts." I nodded along to her words, "Yeah let me buy things for the person I love-wait what?!" JJ burst out laughing and eventually Penny and Emily joined in while I stood there fuming that I got tricked like that. "Oh Y/N we already know you love Spencer, you didn't have to tell us that again."

[hawkins-losers]

STRANGE-MAS DAY 4 | Steve Harrington x Byers!Reader

Summary: Steve drives all the way to California to surprise his girlfriend for Christmas

Word count: 0.7k

Request: Surprise guest with Steve please?

A/N: I completely forgot to post this in December...I’m sorry

— 

This year would be your first Christmas away from Hawkins — away from Steve — and your first Christmas as a big family. It was also El's first Christmas, so your mother wanted to do things big and give her the best first Christmas she could.

Jonathan had gotten a decent-sized tree for the living room — a fake one since California trees are expensive —, Will had painted special baubles with everyone's name on them to personalize the tree, and Joyce had spent all of her free time in the kitchen, cooking and working her ass off to unfreeze the turkey in time for Christmas dinner. After three hours, she was still hard as a rock.

‘’I don’t get it. The woman at the grocery store said if I put it in cold water it would unfreeze fast,’’ Joyce complained with confusion and frustration, poking at her turkey.

‘’We can eat it tomorrow, Mom. It’s fine,’’ you told her, trying to relieve the pressure and stress she put on herself for this holiday. ‘’Jonathan can pick us a pizza and—’’

‘’No!’’ your mother interrupted. ‘’It’s Christmas Eve. We will eat turkey for dinner.’’

You didn’t say anything in return, the combination of stress and self-infliges pressure playing with her patience. Now you know where you got your stubbornness from.

‘’El and I will make the cookies while you work with the turkey,’’ you said, calling El over to help you.

Decorating cookies was your favorite Christmas tradition — beside decorating the tree, of course. You’ve always made them by yourself, but now that El lived with you, you can continue the tradition with her. She wasn’t very great at the decorating part, but she was a cookie cutting expert.

‘’The icing on mine is all wobbly and…bad looking,’’ El said, comparing her cookies to yours.

‘’They’re made with love and that’s all that matters,’’ Joyce told her with a motherly smile, still struggling with her turkey.

‘’I don’t think anyone will care what they look like when they eat them,’’ you added with full honesty. ’’My cookies didn’t look good when I started either. You’re doing great, El.’’

She smiled, taking a knife-full of blue icing for her snowflake shaped cookie. ‘’Thanks. Do you think I could keep some for Mike? He is coming on the 27th—’’

The brunette was cut mid sentence by the doorbell ringing through the house, causing all of you to frown. You weren't expecting anyone.

‘’Jonathan, Will! Can one of you get the door, we’re all busy,’’ you called to your brothers.

None of them moved a finger, watching Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch stole Christmas on the couch.

With a sigh and flour on your pants, you abandoned your and El’s cookie decorating station and went to the door. When you opened it, you thought you were hallucinating. Standing before you, in a red sweater and tight jeans, was Steve Harrington, coming all the way from Hawkins to surprise you.

You were too stunned to speak as your eyes filled with tears. He had called you a week ago to tell you that there were no plane tickets available in time for Christmas and that he was working on New Year's eve and therefore couldn’t come.

‘’Merry Christmas, my love,’’ Steve said with a grin, breaking the silence.

With blurry eyes, you threw your arms around him and Steve caught you with ease, hugging you tightly. God, you had missed him.

You hadn’t seen him since you moved out of Hawkins in late July. You spoke on the phone many times, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him — or touching him. The hoodie and shirt you had stolen from him no longer smelled of Steve. Only of you.

‘’You're really here?’’ you murmured into your boyfriend’s shoulder, clinging to him for dear life.

Steve hummed, tightening his hold to prove he was real. ‘’It was the longest car ride of my life, but seeing you at the finishing line makes it more bearable.’’

It was cheesy, but you missed him so terribly that you didn’t care. You were just unbelievably happy that your boyfriend was here, in California.

He put you down and you pulled him inside the house, closing the door with a bang. ‘’Mom! Mom, come here!’’ Everyone’s ears were probably hurting from how loud you were, but you couldn’t contain your excitement.

—

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @luvmybbies  @chloepricesgrafitimarker  @inluvweddiemunson @i-like-trains @kittenfrostt @simp-for-slasher @m-rae23 @kenzi-woycehoski @amberputh  @sea040561 @wayfaring----stranger @amberputh @starstruckspring @nluvwitheddiemunson @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @kiszkathecook @Original_babababoo @kittenfrostt @yourfavdummy @kenzi-woycehoski @violetsleftfist

Steve Harrington taglist: @dylanstilinskiposts  @captainbuckyyy12  @valevalentyne  @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie  @heizenka  @eddie_munsons_girlfriend @scarlet-kazuha @uhidklol-26 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @swiftbyul @Fandomfaeryreads @harrys-tittie  @tinfoilhat2719 @straycatarang @wayfaring----stranger @starstruckspring @fourlokiss @mi-amoree1111 @starshipsxx  @ghoulishlygrey @bubsonnobx  @truewdw1 @bubsonnobx @ohhrexella  @Dreamtiara  @pastelbabygirl19  @steves-robin @eddiemunsonbby  @evanstanwhore @bootlegmothman420   @courtmr  @nia-um   @strangermarvelgirl  @fandomloversvaries  @missmaxmayfield  @m1rkw00dpr1ncess  @Minksblog  @soph69420world @truewdw1  @crying-caro  @nancewheelersworld  @nluvwitheddiemunson @veniceb1tch88 @hcloangcls @ilovetaylorswift1 @steveharringtonsupremacy  @jusstdreaaming @buckyswhxre @tomspidertingle @thechoiceslookgrimm @bobafettsleftglove @princesseddie @yourfavdummy  @eddiescvmslvt  @slightlyvicked  

[st4rrmii]

LuciBen/LoveBug HCs/Facts:Pt.3-Sillies

(Last part! This one won't be as lore based as the others and will mainly just be silly lil hcs/cute stuff-thank y'all for sticking around for my shenanigans 🙏)

-Ben's the lil spoon

-Ben isn't much of a hugger but he will always cling to Lucien when possible, whenever anyone questions him about it he just tells them Lucien's just "comfortable" to hold onto (not a lie tbh)

-Lucien has a service dog named Latte that absolutely adores Ben, like if she's "off work" then the second she senses Ben, she's BOOKING IT to him. S1 Ben would've been a little icked out (and scared) by a full-size Malamute coming at him, but Big Ben is always happy to give the big pup all his love

-Ben was nervous to come to Lucien's place at first since he lives on the sanctuary he works at, which means theres a lot more of a chance of running into dinos, but he does quickly learn the ones that he will run into are very chill and used to humans so now he can come over without being spooked

-Mia(Lucien's lil sister) is a mechanic and has done an ungodly amount of repairs on the Van, at this point, she's the only one Ben will let touch it

-Lucien and Ben share a pretty similar music taste, mostly because they're constantly introducing each other to new music, so long roadtrips are pretty chill when it comes to who gets the aux

-Whenever they go out and have to look at least somewhat put together, Lucien will put a tiny bit of eyeliner/mascara and lipgloss on Ben, at first Ben was iffy about it but he very quickly got used to it, and even carries around his own little pouch with chapstick, gloss, mascara and eyeliner in his dork pouch

-They absolutely do the little dorky couples' trends you'll see on tiktok (like the nail polish to match each other's eyes, those hug shirts where they paint each other's arms then hug, matching pjs, etc.)

-Neither will admit it, but they are hopeless romantics. Even small romantic gestures from the other will have them giggling n kicking their feet for days

-Lucien's main love language is acts of service, if Ben says he's been stressing about doing something Lucien will do it for him, if Lucien notices the trash/dishes are building up in Ben's dorm he'll take it out/do them for him. Sometimes, Ben won't notice until Lucien's already done it and left, but it always makes him smile.

-On the other hand, Ben's main love language is gift giving, little trinkets he finds that reminds him of Lucien, post it note doodles, plushies (Lucien adores plushies and will always love getting them), you name it. Lucien doesn't really buy many nice things for himself unless they're necessities, so it always feels nice to have someone that does love him enough to think he's worth the money/time spent on gifts.

-Ben does most of the cooking, Lucien knows how to cook but unless it's certain dishes or he's in a certain mood it just stresses him out, whereas Ben grew up cooking with his mom a lot since she was at work a lot and therefore dinner was most of the time they got to spend together, so he finds it actually helps with stress. The boot slop was a low point in his life that we do not talk about.

-Lucien will compliment Ben at whatever chance he can. His hair looks good that day? Compliment. He's cooking, and it smells good? Compliment. The sun hits him in a way that makes his eyes shine and his freckles pop? 100 compliments. Lucien just loves Ben and thinks he's perfect in everything he does, and he's going to let him know that. Ben always gets flustered no matter how many compliments he's gotten.

-If Ben has an essay or exam coming up, Lucien will always stop by to bring him food, make sure he's resting, etc.

-Ben is a notorious clothing thief, I feel like I've mentioned this before, but I am mentioning it again because of how much he does it, someone help Lucien he's running out of clothes.

-They'll spend hours cuddling and talking, nothing else, just taking in each other's presence. They've both "lost" each other at some point in their lives, so they know not to take these things for granted.

-They have inside jokes in ASL, the other camp fam know if they're signing at each other and trying to hide their giggles, then the joke is probably at their expense. Especially Kenji.

-Lucien gets "Love Zoomies" as Sammy calls it, where sometimes Ben will do something or just like- exist- that has Lucien doing laps in his head, stimming, just a huge burst of energy that usually contains him going on about how much he loves Ben while trying not to do a backflip

-Lucien looks like he'd be the scary dog but he is like- the biggest dork, literally and figuratively- especially when it comes to Ben, like I know I've stated it fifteen goddamn times but I genuinely do not think there are enough words for me to properly describe just how madly, insanely, hesd over heels in love with Ben Lucien is, like that is his soulmate, he would take the trauma of Jurassic World an infinite amount of times if it meant he got to love Ben every time.

-Ben has Lucien wrapped around his finger, if he wants something he doesn't even have to say it, Lucien knows and he's already doing it

-Lucien is a biker, and while Ben does very much find it hot, he is also terrified by the way that man drives. He will be a backpack if absolutely necessary, but he will nearly break Lucien's ribs every time with how hard he holds onto him

-Ben was never really a concert enjoyer, hurts his ears and theres just too many people, but after seeing how excited Lucien gets at concerts and how much fun he has, suddenly Ben is a huge concert person, as long as he's with Lucien.

-Lucien's favourite sound in the world is Ben's laugh, the way he squeaks at the end of it, or how if he's laughing hard enough he'll cover his mouth and just go silent, and you can only tell he's laughing because he's shaking and has tears in his eyes- it's just the greatest thing in the world to Lucien. There has been so many time Lucien has completely embarrassed himself, and if it was anyone else laughing he'd curl into a ball and die, but the fact that it was Ben laughing just made everything so worth it.

-Ben thinks Lucien somehow hates pteranodons more than he does, which is crazy, Lucien's whole shtick is that dinosaurs are just doing what they have to do to survive and they shouldn't be punished for it, but pteranodons are a completely different story, they are the wasps of the dino world, they are hell spawns and will be treated as such if they dare come near him. Man, wonder why he hates them sm 🤔

-Lucien is the type of bf to send Ben pictures/videos etc. Of two random things and just caption it "us"

[reigningqueenofwords]

Supernatural Cookbook

Pairing: Dean x reader Word count: 1,173

Read on AO3

Mary had been staying with you and the boys on and off over the last few months. Well, more than usual. You’d found out that you were pregnant, and she was over the moon about becoming a grandmother. You were about five months pregnant, with a tiny bump, and you couldn’t keep Dean’s hands off it. The second he would see you, he’d put his hands on the side, or one hand on the front. Just in hopes he’d feel the baby kick. The pair of you had decided to not find out what you were having. It gave you something extra too look forward to. 

You had gone to do some shopping, alone, because you honestly wanted some peace. You promised to call, or pray to Cas, should you need someone. Dean pouted, Sam gave you ‘the look’ that told you he wished you’d changed your mind, and Mary said she understood. 

You’d spent the afternoon out, grabbing little things for the guys- travel shampoos, travel body washes,  etc and a couple things for the baby- you’d found a cute crib set on sale (score!), and a small box of wipes. Then you’d opted to browse the book store for a little bit. Sometimes it had some great sales, and you were looking for something new to read. Yeah, you had an extensive library, but you weren’t in the mood to read about lore and monsters. Once you found yourself in the cookbook section, one caught your eye, making you chuckle. “Perfect.” You grabbed it and moved to check out. 

Sitting in your car, you went through and picked a recipe to make for dinner. Pulling out your phone, you called Dean. Who answered right away. 

“You okay?!” 

“I’m fine, babe.” You smiled. “I was wondering if you could check the kitchen for some things? I want to make sure we have what I need to make dinner when I get back.” You told him. 

“Uh, yeah, sure, lemme get in there and you can tell me what to look for.” He said easily, and you could hear him moving. “How’s your ‘alone day’ going?” He asked, and you pictured him pouting slightly. 

You giggled. “Good. I got some stuff to restock your travel bags, and I got the cutest gender neutral crib set on sale.” You said proudly. “You’ll love it.” You assured him. 

He chuckled. “I know I will.” He told you. “And, honestly, I don’t know how we didn’t come up with the idea for travel bags years ago! That motel soap kills your skin. And the shampoo? Ugh.” He grunted the last part. “You, my beautiful girlfriend, are a genius!” He said happily. “Alright, I’m in the kitchen. Hit me.” He waited for you to start. 

An hour and a half later, you were walking in the bunker, bags in hand. “Need help?” Sam asked, greeting you. 

“Sure, can you take these? Can you just put them in the baby’s room? I’ll sort your travel bag stuff after, and get the crib set into the laundry. Right now, I have a dinner to make.” You grinned. “And no one is allowed in the kitchen!” You told him. 

His eyebrows shot up. “Not even mom?!” He asked, as you enjoyed cooking with her. “That’s a first.” 

You nodded excitedly. “It’s a surprise, and I’m really hoping I do it justice.” 

He took the bags and nodded. “I’ll go get these put away, and tell mom and Dean to stay out of the kitchen. Not going to lie, I’m really curious about what you’re making.” He chuckled. 

“BOYS!” You called out, knowing that they’d hear you. “Dinner!” You added. Dinner smelled amazing, and you hoped it tasted as good! 

Dean came in, licking his lips. “This smells so familiar, but I can’t figure out why…” He muttered. “But, it’s invisible?” He teased, kissing your cheek and motioning to the table. 

“I’m letting you guys sit before I bring it out.” You smiled up at him. 

Sam and Mary came in moments later. “Sam says that you wanted dinner to be a surprise.” She smiled at you. “Smells amazing!” She complimented you as they each took a seat. 

“I’ll be right back!” You all but bounced to the kitchen, making them chuckle. Minutes later, you walked back in. “Alright.” You were nervous, setting the dish in the middle of the table. “I hope it came out okay.” You said shyly. 

Mary stared. “Is that...how did you know how to make Winchester surprise?!” She looked at you. “Even the boys don’t know.” 

Your cheeks turned a bright red as you lifted a book from your seat. “Saw this in the bookstore. I was hoping it got it right.” You handed it to her. 

“There’s a Supernatural cookbook, too?!” Dean whined. 

Mary looked through the pages. “Wow.” She chuckled. “This is great.” She smiled, handing it back. 

You set it off to the side and sat down. “I hope I did your recipe justice, Mary.” You told her as Dean went to get some. 

“That was so good, babe.” Dean leaned back in his chair, hand on his stomach. “Now we can have that even when mom isn’t here.” He chuckled. “What else they got in that thing?” He asked, curious. 

You laughed. “What, does Dean Winchester actually want to look at a Supernatural book?” You teased. 

He shrugged. “If it’s got food like that in there? Hell yeah.” He grinned as you handed it over. “Alright, let’s see what we got here.” He mused as he opened it. “Dude! ‘Pig ‘in a Poke’! ‘Elvis Burger’. ‘Sam’s Cobb Salad’. ‘Mary’s Piggly Wiggly Meatloaf’.” He chuckled, looking at his mom. “They know you’re a good cook!” He beamed, going back to it. “‘Bobby’s Boozy Balls’. Oh, you gotta make this. I don’t care if it’s mom or Y/N.” Dean licked his lips, showing you the book. “‘Bourbon pecan pie’.” 

“Yeah, that’s one of the ones that made me grab it.” You admitted. “The stuff for it is in the kitchen.” You smiled, loving how excited he looked. “I was hoping that you’d help make it later?” 

“Of course!” He nodded, getting up. “Let me clean up from dinner, and then we can start that?” He asked, hopeful. 

“Sure.” You got up, rubbing your small bump. “I’ll go get your tavel bags set up while you do that.” You always liked to make sure they were fully stocked, because you never knew when a hunt would come up. “Come get me when you want to bake.” You smiled, kissing his cheek. 

Mary and Sam watched the two of you, amused. Once you and Dean went your ways, she looked at Sam. “Good thing she’s already pregnant.” Mary said jokingly, making Sam choke on his beer. “What? It’s true and you know it.” She patted his back. 

“Never thought I’d see him so excited for a Supernatural book.” Sam shook  his head. 

“It’s a cookbook. He likes food. Of course he’s excited.” Mary chuckled.

[mrbexwrites]

Sibling Q&A Tag

Tagged by @spideronthesun here- thank you <3 Leaving an open tag for anyone else who'd like to do this, as my brain is not working at the moment 😅 I was going to answer this for my Memento Mori siblings, but the questions fit Mavis & Connor best!

1. Who looks the most like Dad?

Connor: Mavis. Mavis: We're twins. I feel like we both have a lot of his features. Unfortunately. Connor: You more than me, though. You have his frown, and you wear it all the time. Mavis:...

2. Who looks the most like mom?

Both: Colleen. Connor: She definitely takes after Mum. She got her eyes, which definitely helps.

3. Who eats the most?

Mavis: Connor. You've put some weight on, recently. Maybe time t cut down. You've got a wedding suit to squeeze into. Connor: Don't fat-shame me! I've been stress eating, and Hadley says my having a tummy means that there's more for me to love!

4. Who has been in the weirdest situations?

Connor: Mavis. 100% Mavis. I mean...you've met her right? She's pretty effed-up.

5. Who sleeps the most?

Mavis: Connor. He lies in bed well past sunrise most days. Connor: Some of us just sleep a normal eight hour night, and can't survive on whatever sleep they can snatch. Mave, getting less than four hours of sleep per night isn't healthy!

6. Most stable romantic life?

Both in unison: Connor.

7. Worst habit of each one?

Connor: Mavis has a lot of unaddressed anger issues. She's going to need a lot of therapy. She likes to horde tins of food, but I think that's a trauma response. She doesn't use her words to tell us how she's feeling, she'll just sulk and lash out, expecting us to know what's wrong with her. She's pretty grumpy most of the time. But she does like to keep thins neat and tidy....a little too neat and tidy. Like 'everything has a place' tidy. So, yeah... Mavis: ... Mavis: Connor chews with his mouth open.

8. Who's the most dramatic?

Connor: Mavis Mavis: Connor. Connor: Wait...! What?! How am I the most dramatic? Mavis: You cried when you got punched in the face. Connor: That's not being dramatic! That's being in pain! You're the dramatic one! You blew up an art gallery just because Arnauld was in it! Mavis: That's not dramatic. That's being thorough. Connor:...

9. Who had a weird phase?

Mavis: Connor. He went through his emo phase. With a stupid fringe and lip piercing. The long chain hanging from his jeans. The poetry! Connor: It was a phase! yes, it was super cringe, but who wasn't a total little weirdo when they were 13 years old?

10. Best cook of the family?

Connor: Mum. 100% Mum. She bakes her own bread, makes her own yoghurt. She can take anything and turn it into a banquet. Honestly, you should come round. She'll never see someone go away hungry.

11. Best memory together?

Mavis: That day we went fishing in the river, and you caught a fish. I helped you reel it in. Connor: We were five or six. That's your favourite memory of us? Mavis: *shrugs*

12. Worst memory together?

Connor: There was this one time when Mavis kidnapped me, and took me to our father. He tortured me. That wasn't great.

13. Dream trip together

Connor: Pretty much anywhere. We've been apart for most of our childhood. Maybe a camping trip so that we can have proper time spent in nature, bonding, reminiscing... Mavis: I'd rather go to Hell than go on a holiday with you.

14. Would you rather not be able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?

Connor: Shower. I'd hate not being able to shower. I want to be cleeean! I could always air out my clothes, or spray them with deoderant to try to mask the smell. But I want me to be clean and fresh. Mavis: I not fussed. Done both, if I'm honest. No-one complained. Connor: It's a good thing that smell isn't something that can travel over our psychic link...!

15. Who's the older one?

Connor: Mavis. But only by a couple of minutes.

16. Role model?

Connor: Arnauld. He's so cool, and has shaped me into the man I am today. Followed closely by Gary. Mavis: Father.

17. Who usually has the worst ideas?

Mavis: Connor. He's an idiot. Connor: Says the person who blew up an art gallery !!

18. A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?

Both: Mavis. Connor: I'm squemish. Mavis will get it. Mavis: He usually begs for me to just trap it and throw it outside. It's easier to kill it, but he usually asks nicely, and I'm trying to be a better person, so I'll just scoop it into my hand, and throw it out a window.