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sisterspooky1013 · 1 year ago

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Gaslight, Chapter 42/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

“Mommy?”

Scully startles awake, opening her eyes to find Abby standing at her bedside in the dimly lit room. The clock on the nightstand reads 6:00 am and Mulder is curled up behind her, his hand snaked up under her shirt to rest on her bare belly.

“Good morning, sweetpea,” she whispers, carefully extracting Mulder’s hand before she pulls the covers back and sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Abby looks at Mulder, and Scully can see the little gears turning in her head. “Did you get good sleep?” she asks, tucking the child’s tangled hair behind her ears.

“Peter kicked me,” Abby says flatly.

“Not much fun to share a bed with your brother, is it?” she says sympathetically, and Abby shakes her head.

“Hey,” Mulder says in a creaky baritone, and Scully turns to look at him.

His hair is sticking up in all directions, only one of his eyes cracked open. He stretches his arms up over his head and makes a little grunting sound, and she has an overwhelming urge to kiss him, which she ignores.

“Good morning,” she says, offering him a smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log,” he says, returning her smile with an impish, innuendo-filled one of his own. Scully feels herself blushing and she looks away.

“What’s for breakfast?” Abby asks, and Scully sighs.

“All we have in the room is crackers, I’m afraid,” she informs Abby, who scrunches up her nose. “We can stop and get something more substantial on our way out.”

“I can go grab something,” Mulder says as he throws the covers back. Frenchie rises from her post in front of the door and wags her tail aggressively. “Right after I take French Toast for a walk. What do you like to eat for breakfast, Bunny?”

Abby smiles at his use of her new nickname, and something concurrently lovely and painful twinges in Scully’s chest.

“Chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream?” Abby says hopefully, testing the waters to see what she can get away with.

“How about a muffin?” Scully counters, and Abby shrugs.

“Sure.”

“What about Sleeping Beauty?” Mulder asks, gesturing to Peter with his chin while he slips on his shoes.

“You don’t need to do anything elaborate, Mulder. Just no strawberries; Peter’s allergic,” Scully tells him.

Mulder takes Frenchie out for a short walk, then deposits her back in the room and grabs his wallet and the keys to the van.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he says, walking purposefully towards Scully and leaning down to give her a kiss.

Scully’s eyes widen and she leans back, and Mulder freezes.

“Bye,” she says awkwardly, and he straightens up.

Abby looks between the two adults skeptically, her child’s mind able to discern that they are behaving strangely, but not yet holding the context to understand why.

“Catch you later, Bunny,” Mulder says to the child, holding up his hand in request of a high five.

Abby slaps her palm against his. “Catch you later, Fox,” she mimics.

Mulder leaves, and Scully considers Abby for a moment.

“How are you feeling today?” she asks, and Abby shrugs.

“Okay.”

“You don’t feel strange at all? Or different than you did yesterday?”

Abby shakes her head.

Scully tries to think of something she could ask to gauge the impact of removing the chip on Abby’s memory, but it’s difficult to come up with anything. Scully has no memories of her own to reference, and a six year old isn’t likely to recall the details of something that happened three months ago regardless. Perhaps that is what makes Abby’s experience different from Mulder’s or Cal’s: the long term memory of a child is already fuzzy at best.

She realizes that now would be the ideal time to tell the children about Cal, and her stomach immediately twists into knots. She doesn’t want to give them the opportunity to ask about him again, and it’s probably best that Mulder isn’t present for the conversation. While she might like to have him there to support her, to the children he’s a practical stranger.

She sends Abby to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get dressed, then sits heavily on the bed beside a still-sleeping Peter. The child jostles, but doesn’t stir, and she hauls him up off the mattress, holding him in a cradle carry like an enormous baby. His long, dark eyelashes flutter, revealing a sliver of white before falling closed again.

“Wake up, sweet boy,” she says quietly before kissing the tip of his nose.

Peter sighs, and feeling the weight of his little body in her arms, looking at the plump apples of his cheeks, she is struck with the knowledge that there was a time when his most basic needs were not met. A swell of emotion lodges itself in her throat imagining him thin and dirty, neglected and hungry. It’s unfathomable.

“Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater,” she coos, dipping his head back. Peter smiles and opens his eyes. “Good morning,” she says brightly.

When the children are both dressed and Peter has mourned the fact that Blue’s Clues is not available on the motel TV, Scully sits them down on the bed they slept in, so nauseous she’s at genuine risk of vomiting. Frenchie sits beside the bed and rests her head on Scully’s thigh, and Scully gives her a few pats before shooing her away.

Though she’s given an enormous amount of thought to how to tell them this terrible news, when she looks at their innocent little faces she’s not sure she can go through with it.

“Is Daddy coming today?” Abby asks, and Scully’s throat immediately closes up. She shakes her head.

“No, sweetpea,” she says hoarsely, reaching out to take the child’s hand. “That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

“Where is he?” Abby asks.

Scully pulls in a breath, trying to calm her own emotions.

“Daddy got hurt very badly,” she says carefully, looking between the children’s faces. Abby’s eyebrows scrunch up, but Peter’s expression remains neutral. “His body wasn’t able to get better, and he died.”

Her voice catches on the final word, and she prays that she won’t have to repeat herself.

“Why?” Abby asks, her chin puckering.

Scully shakes her head solemnly.

“It was an accident, sweetpea. Daddy didn’t want to leave you. He loved you so much.”

“Wait a minute,” Peter says, trying to fit this information into an existing schema in his brain. “Is that like the squirrel at the park?”

“A little bit,” Scully says, giving him a sad smile.

“How’s he gonna go to work?” Pete asks.

“He’s not, sweetheart,” Scully says as a tear slips down her cheek. “He’s not coming back.”

Peter seems confused more than anything, while Abby is staring at the bedspread vacantly, her breathing shallow. Scully still has hold of her hand, and she squeezes it gently.

“Sweetpea?” she says softly, and Abby snatches her hand away.

“I want my daddy,” she says insistently, her voice quavering.

The emotional pain is so acute that Scully feels it aching in her bones. Out of nowhere, she remembers learning the news of her own father’s death. The thin warble of her mother’s voice coming through the phone, and the murmur of an infomercial on the TV. We lost your dad. He’s gone.

“I know,” she says tightly. “I wish he could be here, Abby, but he can’t. I’m sorry.”

She reaches out to comfort her and Abby stiffens, twisting her body out of Scully’s reach.

The door handle turns, and the three of them look as Mulder enters, along with a blast of sunlight. Abby springs out of the bed and runs toward the door, and Scully scrambles after her.

“Abby, no!” she yells, too loudly, just before the child crashes into Mulder, wrapping her arms around his hips and letting out a sob.

Mulder looks up at Scully helplessly, a takeout box in each of his hands, and she feels herself unraveling.

“Daddy’s dead,” Peter informs him.

Mulder turns to set the takeout boxes on the table, then pries Abby loose and picks her up. Her arms go around his neck, her legs around his waist, and he rubs his palm over her back, murmuring platitudes. The raw grief in Abby’s wailing makes Scully wish that she had died instead.

“I got pancakes,” Mulder says sadly, and Scully escapes to the bathroom.

It’s an oppressively hot day, which does nothing for Scully’s mood. Even with the air conditioning in the van on full blast she’s sweaty and irritable, and she feels guilty that Mulder is stuck trying to placate both her and the grieving child who won’t so much as look at her.

“Try not to take it personally,” he’d counseled her when they stopped to use the bathroom near Toledo. “Kids handle loss differently than adults do. She’s likely just associating you with it because you had to deliver the news. She’ll come around.”

Peter seems wholly unaffected, which makes her feel both relieved and sad. They stop every few hours to stretch their legs and walk Frenchie, Mulder and Scully driving in shifts. As they near Chicago, Peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

“This is too boring!” he complains. “When are we gonna get there?”

“Where are we going anyway?” Abby comments despondently, her eyes cast out the window.

Scully twists in her seat to look at them.

“We’re going to Canada,” she says, her tone falsely upbeat. “We get to live in a house by a lake. You can go swimming.”

“I wanna go swimming!” Peter says emphatically, wriggling in his seat.

“We won’t be there for a few more days,” Scully informs him, and he lets out a disappointed groan.

“We’re going to pass right by Lake Michigan,” Mulder says quietly. “We can stop for an hour or two.”

Scully gives him a long look.

“Is that a good idea?” she asks nervously.

“We can’t expect them to sit still in the car all day,” he counters.

Scully looks back to the children. They’ve already been driving for over five hours, and it’s barely afternoon.

“Would you like to go swimming, sweetpea?” she asks, and Abby looks at her for the first time since Akron.

“Today?”

“Yep,” Scully says with a smile.

Abby smiles and Peter whoops, and Scully looks back to Mulder, feeling grateful.

“There’s just one thing we have to talk about before we can go swimming,” he says loudly so the kids can hear him. “Do you know what a spy is?”

“I saw Harriet the Spy,” Abby informs him.

“Great,” Mulder says. “Do you think you can pretend to be a spy for the rest of our trip?”

“I probably need a notebook,” Abby says.

“We can get you a notebook,” Mulder says. “What about you, Bear, can you pretend to be a spy with us?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Peter says plainly, and Mulder laughs.

“To be a spy you have to pretend you’re someone else,” he explains. “We’ll use pretend names so nobody knows who we really are.”

“Is it a disguise?” Peter asks.

“Kind of,” Mulder says. “But just a disguise for your name. Your spy name is Justin, or we can also call you Bear, your animal name.”

“What’s my disguise name?” Abby asks.

“Your spy name is Amanda,” Mulder tells her. “Or Bunny is okay too.”

“Amanda,” Abby repeats, sitting back.

“It’s okay to call your mom Mommy,” Mulder continues. “But you can’t call me Fox while we’re being spies. My spy name is Stephen, okay?”

The children nod, and Scully reaches over the console and squeezes Mulder’s thigh briefly. He glances at her, eyebrows raised.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “You’re really good with them.”

Mulder smiles sheepishly, and she detects a hint of pink on his cheeks.

They stop just before crossing the border into Illinois to buy swimsuits and several changes of clothes, as well as sunscreen and dog food. Mulder holds up a microscopic bikini and wags his eyebrows at Scully, and she shakes her head with a wry smile. By the time they make it to the register there are also beach towels, sunglasses, and two little plastic buckets with matching plastic shovels thrown into the cart, and twenty minutes later they are parking near a sandy beach the color of Frenchie’s fur. The white surf capping the waves and the absence of a visible landmass on the horizon give the impression that they are looking at the ocean, and Scully pulls in a deep breath, relaxing a little for the first time in days.

The beach is not very populated in the middle of a weekday, which gives them a sizable slice of the shore to themselves. The children set up near the water’s edge and begin digging a network of holes in the sand while Mulder and Scully sit a few yards away and supervise. Mulder allows Frenchie off her leash and she moves back and forth between the children and the adults, supervising in her own right. Abby has progressed from shrieking anytime Frenchie comes within arm’s reach of her to simply ignoring the dog altogether, and Scully is grateful for one less thing to worry about.

The strong breeze coming off the water makes the heat much more tolerable, and the sounds of screeching gulls and the hush of the waves are like a lullaby. Scully yawns, and Mulder reaches over and rubs his hand over her back.

“You should take a nap,” he says, and she closes her eyes briefly, savoring his touch.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep,” she says, opening her eyes. “I worry about the kids near the water.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” he tells her, and she smiles warmly.

“I know you would,” she says, scooting just a little closer to him on the towel. “But I’d still worry.” She watches the children for a few minutes as they run to the edge of the water and fill their buckets, then race back to the sizable hole they are attempting to make into a bathtub. “I remember when I was a child, my father would always tell my mother not to worry about us. ‘You worry over those kids too much, Maggie, just sit down and relax for once.’ And she would tell him that it’s a mother’s job to worry. I think I finally understand what she meant.”

“I don’t think my mother worried too much over me,” Mulder says without much affect, and Scully looks over at him.

There’s two days worth of stubble on his cheeks, though he looks more well rested than he has since they reunited. His bare torso is already bronzing under the sun, and his hair is just this side of shaggy, giving him somewhat of a beach bum appearance. She glances at the children, who are completely absorbed in their bathtub project, and then reaches up and touches Mulder’s cheek. He turns his head and she kisses him, seemingly catching him off guard by the little surprised sound he makes. But he kisses her back, and when she goes to pull away he kisses her again, and it feels so good to kiss him with her toes in warm sand and ocean sounds filling her ears, and the knowledge that her children are safe.

“Mommy, look!”

They break their kiss and turn to look at the children, who are standing knee-deep in the hole they dug, beaming. You’d never guess that they learned about their father’s death mere hours ago.

After a couple hours in the hot sun, the children are sufficiently worn out for the second leg of the drive, and they do their best to brush the sand off everyone before piling back into the van and continuing on towards Wisconsin. Abby and Peter both fall asleep quickly, and Mulder kisses the tips of Scully’s fingers while she drives, whispering about a recently-recalled memory wherein they visited a beach in California, then spent the evening making love in a well appointed hotel room. Scully glances in the rear view mirror to confirm they don’t have an audience before filling in the missing details, including a disastrous movie premier and a shared bubble bath, and the rug burn on her knees that didn’t fade for weeks. They arrive in Wisconsin Dells around dinnertime and stop at a gas station for supplies before they find a motel for the night.

“Okay, super spies, remember to use spy names only,” Mulder says, meeting the children’s eyes for emphasis. They both nod gravely, taking their assignment as spies very seriously.

Inside the gas station market, a bored looking teenager sits behind the counter reading a book while the evening news runs on a TV hung from the ceiling overhead. Scully shakes her head as Mulder buys the children corn dogs and potato wedges, and a myriad of other junk food that she hopes they won’t expect to be a part of their continued diet after they get settled in Canada.

Peter finds a display of little water guns, and he turns toward Mulder, his mouth opening and closing like a hungry fish as he tries to recall Mulder’s spy name.

“Um…um…,” he struggles, his eyes scanning the ceiling for the answer. “Daddy,” he finally says, and Mulder slowly turns to look at him.

“Yeah, Bear?” Mulder asks, giving Scully an uncomfortable glance.

Scully looks at Abby, who is watching the exchange curiously.

“Can I get one of these?” Peter asks, holding up a yellow squirt gun.

“I don’t think so,” Mulder says, patting the child’s head. “Maybe another time.”

Peter moves on, and Scully approaches Abby, who appears to be deep in thought.

“You okay, sweetpea?” she asks cautiously, afraid that the child might shut her out again.

Abby slowly looks up at her, slightly dazed.

“Is Fox our daddy?” she asks, her eyebrows pushed together.

Scully is unable to conceal her surprise at the question. Could Abby have forgotten Cal so quickly? It makes her both sad and hopeful to consider the possibility.

“Would you like him to be?” Scully asks, and Abby looks beyond her distractedly.

Suddenly Abby’s expression changes, a bemused smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

“How did you get on TV, Mommy?” she says, and Scully follows her eyes to the TV behind the counter.

A flash of fear makes adrenaline ring in Scully’s ears when she sees her own face displayed on the grainy screen, and then Mulder’s alongside it.

“Mu—Stephen,” she says quietly, too shell-shocked to yell, and Abby pokes her head into the next aisle to find him.

“Daddy,” she calls out, as though she’s addressed him as such a hundred times. “Mommy needs you.”

She feels Mulder’s presence beside her as her eyes stay glued to the TV.

Two Children Kidnapped In Washington DC the chyron reads, and the screen changes from side-by-side photos of Mulder and Scully to a picture of a smiling Abby and Peter. Scully’s heart is pounding in her ears, and she looks down to the clerk sitting right beneath the TV, relieved to see that they are paying it no attention.

The picture of the children is then replaced with a video of Diana standing behind a lectern swiping tears from her eyes. Scully steps closer so she can read the captions running across the bottom of the screen, her stomach in knots.

…taken by my husband and his mistress right from our home. Jeff, I beg of you, please don’t hurt our babies. Please bring them home safely. They’re all I have.

Mulder touches her arm, and she looks up at him. His jaw is set in anger, his gaze intense.

“We need to change our appearance,” he says, and she nods absently, unable to think. “I saw some hair dye over there,” he tells her, gesturing with his head, and slowly her mind begins to get back on the rails.

“Okay,” she says, visually scanning the small market. She spots a rack full of souvenir trucker hats. “You and Bear can wear hats,” she says, and Mulder nods.

They corral the children, speaking in low tones so as not to draw any additional attention. Scully selects two boxes of blonde hair dye, and Mulder lets Peter pick out a hat with a rainbow on it. They pile all their purchases, plus the corn dogs and the potato wedges, on the counter and steal glances at the continuing news story on the screen while the teenage clerk obliviously rings them up.

“D’you need a bag?” they ask flatly, and Scully forces herself not to look at the faked photo of Diana embracing her children as she answers yes.

The bell above the door rings, announcing the arrival of new customers, and Mulder and Scully carefully keep their backs turned. Peter pokes Abby in the ribs and she swats him.

“Stop it, Pete!” she hollers, and Scully grabs Peter by the shoulders, ushering him into the small space between her body and the counter.

Mulder hands a twenty dollar bill to the clerk, and the other customers step up in line behind them as the clerk makes change.

“Oh my gosh, that’s awful,” a woman’s voice says emphatically, and the clerk stops and twists their neck up awkwardly to look at the screen.

“Oh damn,” the clerk says, and Scully feels like she can’t breathe. She stares at the countertop, waiting for the moment of recognition.

“It’s okay,” Mulder whispers, and she looks over at him. He flashes his eyes to the screen, and she looks up to find that the images of Diana and the children are gone, and the chyron now reads Three Confirmed Dead in Dells Boat Tour Accident.

That night, Scully is unable to sleep. She thinks back over every place they’ve stopped since leaving Maryland, every person they’ve interacted with who might have later recognized their faces on the evening news. Will Diana learn that they were just in Indiana? Will the McDonald’s drive thru worker in Akron remember the family of four who argued about milkshakes? Should they veer off their intended path for the remainder of the trip?

She can smell the developer still clinging to her hair, which is now dirty blonde. Abby’s natural hair color made hers turn out a bit darker, almost brown, but still different enough from their typical appearance not to be recognized at first glance. Mulder’s coloring is close enough to Peter’s that they don’t look conspicuous; the children could easily belong to them biologically. Still, knowing that they might be recognized puts a pit of worry in her gut, a nagging feeling of impending doom.

Mulder sighs next to her, and she rolls to her side to face him in the dark.

“Are you awake?” she whispers, and he turns on his side as well, his nose inches from hers.

“I hate her, Scully,” he says, shame in his voice.

“Rightfully, I’d say,” she tells him, resting her palm on his hip.

“I keep thinking,” he says, his breath warm and familiar against her cheeks, “if I’d believed you sooner, we would have been long gone before they ever found us at the safehouse.”

“Don’t do that,” she says. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know. I just keep thinking about everything. How it could have been different.”

Scully sighs and scoots closer, kissing him and then tucking her head under his chin. She feels safe, for the moment, wrapped up in his arms. Sleep suddenly feels like a possibility.

Frenchie stands up and whines, and Mulder rolls to his back.

“What is it, French?” he asks.

Frenchie whines again, her tail tucked and twitching nervously. On the other side of the room, Abby lets loose a blood-curdling scream.

Scully is out of the bed in an instant, feeling around in the dark to locate Abby’s flailing arms.

“No, no, nooooo!!!!” Abby yells, hitting and scratching Scully’s forearms, pushing her away. “Stop, Mommy, please!”

A light comes on, and Scully can now see Peter sitting on her and Mulder’s bed, confused and gape-mouthed, and Mulder standing beside him.

“She’s dreaming,” Mulder says, coming around to where Scully is unsuccessfully trying to bring Abby back to reality.

Abby’s eyes are open, but it’s clear that whatever she is seeing is in her mind. She doesn’t look at Scully, but through her, her nostrils flaring and her mouth contorted in agony.

“Mommy don’t,” the child wails, her arms held out in front of her defensively. “I’m sorry. Please don’t.”

Scully looks at Mulder helplessly.

“Do you think it’s my hair?” she asks, and Mulder shakes his head with a shrug.

“Turn the lamp off, Bear,” Mulder directs Peter, who does as he’s told.

The room plunges back into darkness, and Abby’s protestations subside into whimpers.

“Hey, Bunny,” Mulder says, his voice indicating that he’s moved to the head of the bed. “It’s okay, you’re safe in your bed. I’m here with you.”

“Daddy?” Abby warbles, and Mulder hesitates only a moment.

“Yes, I’m right here. You’re safe,” he says softly.

“Don’t leave me,” Abby says, her voice so tiny and afraid that it brings tears to Scully’s eyes.

“I won’t leave you,” Mulder assures her. “I’m right here.”

Abby continues to cry for a few minutes and then falls back asleep, her arms wound tightly around Mulder’s neck. Scully feels her way back to the other bed where she finds that Peter has already laid down on her pillow, so she takes Mulder’s side instead. Abby wakes again around 3:00 am, this time settling quickly when she hears Mulder’s voice beside her.

Scully needs to keep her children safe, and she’s so afraid that she’ll fail. She sleeps fitfully, dreaming of Emily and a little boy with glasses whose name she can’t recall.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

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shmowder · 5 months ago

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Termites + Clara and getting a toy with their meal

Sticky would pretend he's above it, that he doesn't care about kiddie toys. He'll order whatever Artemy orders to try and feel included with the adults. Except that his tastebuds are still of a 12y overdosing on nuggets daily, and he can not handle anything more spicy than ketchup. He managea three bites before his eyes start watering as he battles the spiciness while Artemy watches unimpressed.

Capella actually doesn't want a toy, but she still orders a meal with one anyway. It was to take home with her and keep as a souvenir of this outing. She's the one being addressed by the waiters and the person who goes to the cashier to correct an error in the order if Artemy wasn't around. While the fast food meal isn't what she usually eats, she finds herself intrigued by the simplicity of the flavours. She enjoys the sugary soda more than she'll ever like to admit, although Notkin clearly shares the sentiment and offers her his cup later as they leave.

Notkin immediately orders a toy meal along with Clara. The both of them end up having a blast using their mini figure toys to stage a fight on the table, using ketchup as fake blood and doing sound effects with their own voices. It's a theatrics show, and they use stale fries as woobly swords for their toys. He doesn't end up eating much but takes advantage of the free soda refills to stock up on 4 or 5 cups when no one in the staff is looking. He ends up "winning" the mini figure fight after tricking Clara into a trap with a paper crown. Taya is over the moon impressed. He soaks up her praise like a sponge and retells her the fight she just watched when they leave the diner... but more dramatically.

Khan actually enjoys the "grown-up" food courtesy to his family's eccentric tastes. His taste buds pretty much got used to most things other kids wouldn't even try. He tries not to say anything when he feels Sticky glaring at him from the other side of the table, half finished glass milk in hand. He absolutely hates the soda and can't understand why anyone would like something so sugary. He orders an average meal and splits it with Grace, insisting she's doing him a favour. Ends up criticising the food within earshot of the waiter multiple times. Makes everyone–Clara and Notkin especially– Clean the food mess they threw on the floor while playing around before leaving.

Taya didn't just ask for a toy. She asked for all the toys there in the whole diner! Although with Haruspex's current lack of stable income, she was content with just one toy and a meal. Immediately giving her toy a name and showing it off to everyone who would make eye contact with her for a split second, even telling the strangers sitting on the other tables about her beloved awesome toy... Only to become bored of it midway through the meal and move on to observe the entertaining fight show that Clara and Notkin are improvising. Her happiness is contagious and other adults ends up giving her some of their desserts just for being adorable. Artemy has to run after her and take her back to their original table after she enhaled half the cake from a stranger kid's birthday table.

Murky clearly wanted a meal with a toy. Not only was it blatantly obvious, but she was very bad at hiding it. Shaking her head when asked about it by the cashier and hiding between Artemy's legs. She didn't budge when questioned and refused to admit that she wanted a toy. At least Sticky was there to pick her food order for her, pancakes with syrup and strawberries. Even if the restaurant stopped serving the breakfast menu by this hour, him and Capella made a valid argument for an exception. Thankfully, it did work, and Clara's plan B of breaking into the kitchen and using her magic on the cook didn't have to come into action... today. Before leaving, Taya entrusted her toy to Murky and told her to keep it and take care of it, especially after Murky gave her one of the strawberries.

Clara immediately goes for the dollar kids menu, absolute zero shame. She briefly glances over the laminated paper menu to look at Artemy and make sure that he is the one paying, correct? Before picking the most expensive dish on the kids' menu, Behold! a three dollars meal, with a complimentary toy. She's the one having the most fun out of the rest of the kids during this outing and being playful in general. Making Grace throw M&M at her to see how many can she catch midair with just her mouth. Turns out... 25 out of 56. Not bad, not bad. She ends up leaving the diner with the paper crown still atop her head.

Grace didn't want to burden the haruspex. She was already grateful for just being invited, really. So she picked the cheapest thing on the menu, small fries. Smiling at Artemy's concerned gaze as he decided to just let her be. She sat content on her side of the table, watching Clara and Notkin playing together. She indulged Clara's games and was pleasantly surprised by how delicious the M&Ms were when Clara insisted that they switch roles and Grace should try catching them instead. Then the M&Ms turned into fries, salad pieces, and finally, chicken nuggets as it became clear that Clara just started the game as an excuse to share her food with Grace. Which counterproductivly ended up with two-thirds of it on the ground instead, courtesy to both of their bad aims.

#♧artemy #♧the termites #♧Clara #♧wholesome #♧the termites + Clara #clara saburova #sticky burakh #murky burakh #capella olgimskaya #notkin pathologic #khan kain #grace pathologic #taya tycheek #Artemy Burakh

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starandsims · 1 year ago

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Book 1: Normal Type | Chapter 7: Sleepover (2/2)

Book 1: Normal Type | Chapter 7: Sleepover (2/2)

Back at Teddy’s house, he felt more energized with Lilli around, he suddenly wasn’t as tired anymore and they talked well into the night. Lilli told him about a boy she’d been talking to, which shocked Teddy, she’d never really been one for romance. He pressed her for more details, falling easily back into his role as pseudo parent, asking about what kinds of things they were talking about and how serious they were.

She told him his name was Samuel and he actually lived just a few houses down from Teddy! He was a university student in the psychology program at Foxbury so Teddy had probably seen him around campus as well. He felt strange knowing that this stranger whom he’d probably run into on more than one occasion was talking to his sister and they were considering a romantic relationship.

Lilli asked him about how his search for his wife was going and Teddy had to admit he hadn’t been able to make much progress because of how busy he had been. His sister could see how tired he was, not just from the day but from everything, so she hugged him and told him goodnight. She did still take his offer to sleep in the bed though, because she wasn’t much of a couch sleeper. Teddy meanwhile snuggled tightly, knees tucked to his chest, onto the loveseat for the night.

In the morning he woke up early, he hadn’t gotten much sleep and his neck and ankles hurt from the awkward angle in which he slept. He didn’t really mind though, because he did truly enjoy having Lilli over. He started making some pancakes, just like he used to do when Lilli was little, and he cut up some strawberries to go with it. She didn’t like the strawberries on the pancake itself, just on the side. He made his own plate of pancakes, and right on time, Lilli came yawning out of his room and sat down at the table as if nothing had changed. Sometimes he liked pretending he was still taking care of his siblings, he wanted to be a dad so badly.

After breakfast, Lilli was holding something behind her back suspiciously and told Teddy to close his eyes and hold out his hands, she had a gift for him. Curious and confused, he did as he was asked, and felt paper being placed into his palms. When he opened his eyes he saw a postcard from Brindleton Bay and a stack of papers underneath. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“It’s a short story I wrote,” Lilli said proudly. “It’s about Samson - he was helping inspire me last night when I couldn’t sleep. It’s about his adventures journeying from Brindleton Bay to San Myshuno right up until the moment you adopted him!”

Teddy’s eyes opened wide in appreciation, not only of such a thoughtful gift, but also because Lilli usually didn’t share her work with anyone! “Wow! Lilli, this is so nice, thank you so much!”

Brother and sister shared a close hug, crinkling the paper between them. After Lilli left, Teddy took Samson for a walk, or more he was using that as a cover. He walked down the street towards the house that Lilli had indicated was this Samuel person’s house. He wanted to see if he could get an idea of what this person looked like or what he might be like, especially if Lilli was taking this relationship with him seriously. As he walked down the street his neighbor, a woman a little older than him that he hadn’t met yet, waved at him on her way out to work.

“Good morning,” she greeted cheerfully. “Your cat is so cute!”

Samson hissed at her, which took her aback a moment and Teddy apologized on his cat’s behalf with embarrassment and introduced himself. She told him her name was Violet and she was in a hurry, but she hoped they might bump into each other again. Teddy agreed. (2/2)

#poche pokemon challenge #poche legacy #pokemon type legacy #plpc #plpc g1 #plpc: teddy poche #plpc: lilli poche #simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 gameplay #the sims 4 #the sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #ts4

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hwangsify · 3 years ago

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SKZ HEADCANONS : THEIR IDEAL TYPES !

pairing. skz x gn reader

genre. pure fluff

warnings. food

summary. my interpretation of their ideal types.

word count. 0.7k+

a/n. tried to make this as accurate as possible. keep in mind that this is my interpretation of their ideal types and may not be 100% accurate.

seungmin : bruised knees and infectious laughter. attempts to keep a daily journal but gives up after a week. loves or hates— there is no in between. fluid and easy in everything that they do. lives life unapologetically and without regrets. eyes that crinkle up in the corners whenever they smile. impulsive and slightly thoughtless when it comes to themselves. camera film is brimming with candid snapshots of life in all its ephemerality— a ragged tabby cat curled up on the corner of the sidewalk, a plateful of strawberry waffles, a silhouette of laced fingers in the smoky moonlight.

minho : loose sweatpants and oversized t-shirts. a quiet intensity that can match his own. headstrong but also impossibly soft when it comes to loved ones. holds glass jars of ambitions in their hearts— someone who is not afraid to crave for success. always seems to have an iced americano in their hand. perptually exhausted. apartment is full of messy stacks of papers and half eaten plates of toast. quick to ignite but also quick to forgive. striking eyes that resemble liquid glass. love comes from them in slivers, in a squeeze of a hand on a sunday morning, a steady weight of a head leaning against his shoulder during late night car rides back to the dorms.

hyunjin : bubbly laughter and bright eyes. coconut-scented conditioner. bangs that always fall in their eyes no matter how many times they sweep them away. loves unconditionally— someone who embraces his flaws and scars just as much as his perfections. worn converse sneakers and a ridiculous amount of hairbands around their wrists. quick-witted humor, eyes that never quite lose their childish spark. pinterest boards full of cats. someone who is alive, made of youth and matcha lattes and clover.

felix : notebooks full of absentminded doodles and random ramblings. bakes cakes at 2am just as an excuse for him to come over, insisting that they can't finish the cake by themselves. soft sweater paws and lukewarm mugs of green tea. impulsively takes in stray kittens whenever they come across them on the streets. steaming bowls of galbitang with slivers of green onions sprinkled in left on the kitchen counter for when he comes home. trips to cat cafés together. loves fiercely, not because they need to, but just because they can.

changbin : cheesy pick-up lines and ripped leggings. a dusty assortment of forgotten socks under the foot of their bed. someone who revels in life, adores its rhythm and its cadence. a hopeless romantic, although they'd never admit it. chinese takeout on late sunday nights. lotus biscuits dipped in rose tea. lovesick gazes directed towards him, someone who is not afraid to love him openly— if he'd let them, they'd show him off to the world. spends their thursday afternoons in the kitchen, a plaid apron tied around their waist, attempting to make something edible and failing miserably.

chan : earnest gazes and dancing eyes. burnt pancakes in the morning for breakfast. shares his burdens— steady and reliable in everything that they do. laughter that tastes of moonlight and cinnamon. youtube history is full of café vlogs and study playlists. someone who he can be vulnerable with, who knows that one person can only carry so much weight on their shoulders. quiet mumblings of i love you and did you sleep well? in the mornings. a cup of steaming black coffee left by his desk whenever he leaves for work.

jisung : sticky notes on the kitchen refrigerator with groceries scrawled onto them in bright red sharpie. is quiet around strangers but blooms around those they're comfortable with. perceives him easily, can read his mood at one glance. despises small talk and shares his adoration for cheesecake. someone who can match his own brilliance— who can push him to go higher, to his limits and beyond. late nights at the recording studio spent working through 3 cartons of fried chicken.

jeongin : puts their hand over their mouth whenever they laugh. plastic cups of lychee bubble tea by their window sill. eyes that curve into crescent moons whenever they smile. shy demeanor despite their loud laughter. collarbone kisses and tired hugs. a worrisome amount of microwavable udon noodle packages in their kitchen pantry. strawberry picking in the middle of march, random little gifts left by the doorway of his apartment. someone whose smile is as wide as their heart, who loves easily.

#ficscafe #another headcanon bc i'm fucking deranged #i seriously need more sleep #and i need to study chem lmao #but no #instead i made this #stray kids headcanons #bang chan au #lee know au #changbin au #hyunjin au #han jisung au #felix au #seungmin au #jeongin au #📂 fics.txt #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #fluff

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another-whump-sideblog · 2 years ago

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Jane’s Pets Pt. 50: Escapism

Tws in the tags

Masterlist

Today is a good day. Puppy woke up before her alarm feeling well rested. She had good dreams, but not the kind that make you feel disappointed when you wake up. The happy, light feeling carries over into wakefulness.

She decides to make breakfast for her roommates. Not because she has to, or because it’s her job, but because she wants to.

She’ll make chocolate chip pancakes. She can have chocolate because she’s human and not a dog or a pet.

Charlie comes out of their room, yawning. Their long, orange hair is a mess.

“Good morning. I woke up early, so I’m making pancakes.” Puppy says.

“Morning.” Charlie yawns again, then sniffs and perks up. “Chocolate chip pancakes? Is today special?”

“Nope! I just wanted chocolate. Do you want to cut up some fruit to top it with?”

Charlie nods and gets some strawberries from the fridge. Liam comes out of his room.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

Liam rubs his eyes. “Mmmm… ask me again later. I don’t know yet.”

“That’s fair. Well, I slept great. Woke up feeling well rested and everything.”

Liam grumbles something about morning people and collapses onto the couch. Puppy smiles. She absolutely adores her roommates.

When breakfast is ready, she gently wakes Liam up again. “Hey. I made chocolate chip pancakes. Do you want any?”

Liam nods and rolls off the couch.

Breakfast is nice. Charlie and Liam wake up enough to hold conversation, and the three of them chat about how how they slept and their plans for the day.

They end up with plenty of leftovers. Puppy puts them away while Charlie does the dishes and Liam wipes down the table.

Puppy starts sorting some of her laundry while Charlie and Liam get ready. She always showers after Liam and Charlie leave because she doesn’t need to be anywhere early in the mornings, unlike them. She’s a writer and her schedule is very flexible.

Puppy has found that the time she waits for the shower to be available is great for getting some quick chores done. It’s very satisfying to get things done so early in the morning.

Liam and Puppy hug goodbye, and Charlie offers the two of them air hugs. Puppy will miss them while they’re at work, but they both enjoy their jobs a lot and she would never want to take that from them.

Charlie works at a non-profit, providing free or cheap therapy to people who need it. They’re amazing at their job, and make the world a better place every day.

Liam is a gardener. He likes being outside.

Puppy makes enough money off her books that neither of them have to work, but they do anyway. Whatever makes them happy.

Puppy showers and brushes her hair and teeth. She picks an outfit that shows off her unscarred arms and legs and uncollared neck. She thinks she’ll write in the nearby park today, since it’s so nice out. Then she’ll go to the library, and then to her dance class.

It’s a very nice day. Birds chirp and there’s a pleasant cool breeze. Perfect weather for hanging out in the park and writing.

Admittedly, Puppy gets distracted fairly often when writing outside, but that’s okay. She could never write another book and still have enough money to sustain her for the rest of her life.

It’s nice to be around people. It’s nice to hear children laughing, it’s nice to see people happy and relaxed. Complete strangers who won’t be murdered or anything, just alive and happy.

After writing a few pages, Puppy decides to call it quits and head to the library. She has a book club meeting today.

Everyone in her book club has interesting perspectives on the book, and it’s all very nice. She shares what she thinks and they listen, and they don’t tell her she’s not allowed to speak anymore if they disagree. They have a lively discussion that goes on for hours before picking a new book and agreeing to meet at the same time next week.

She can make plans like that. She doesn’t have to ask permission, she can go somewhere because she wants to go there and she won’t be punished.

She can do what she wants. She can make friends without fear because she knows no one will use those attachments against her.

She stays in the library to read for a while longer, then heads to her dance class.

Puppy has been getting really good at dancing, she thinks. It’s not difficult to make her body do what she wants it to do. She feels connected with her body and it doesn’t hurt. It feels good and it makes her happy. She chats aimlessly with fellow students. She doesn’t think have to have a purpose when talking, she can just talk.

Someday, she thinks she’ll teach a dance class. That would be really fun.

When the class is over, she heads home. She doesn’t dread heading home, she’s excited about it. She’s excited to ask Liam and Charlie about their days and tell them about hers. She hopes they’ll have time to play a game and watch a movie tonight.

She gets home before the two of them, but they’re not far behind.

“How was your day?” She asks.

Charlie smiles. “Y’know, saved lives, made the world a better place. I’m basically a superhero.”

Puppy can tell there’s something bothering them, but doesn’t push. She knows Charlie will ask for help if they need it, and she knows that she’ll be able to provide that help without hinderance, so it doesn’t stress her out.

Liam steps into his room to take off his work clothes. “My day was good too. I saved lives too. Not human lives, but I still think it’s impressive. What about you?”

“Good! I went to the park, and then I had book club and dance lessons.”

“I thought you didn’t have dance class on Tuesdays.”

“I didn’t, but I joined another class. This one’s ballet, isn’t that fun?”

Liam makes a noncommittal sound. He’s not a big fan of dance, which makes it all the sweeter that he comes to every dance performance.

Charlie starts getting things ready in the kitchen. “I’m thinking enchiladas tonight, how does that sound?”

“That sounds great.” Puppy says. She slides into the kitchen and starts helping. Once Liam is in more comfortable clothes, he comes to help too.

The three of them fall into an easy rhythm. Charlie takes the lead, instructing the other two on how best to help, but the three of them work together as equals. Dinner is done in no time.

They share stories as they eat. Puppy talks about the same book she talked about in book club earlier, still full of thoughts about it. Charlie excitedly talks about the new methodology they’ve been learning. Liam talks about plants and how the season changing will impact them. Puppy would normally find that incredibly boring, but coming from one of her best friends, she hangs on to every word.

After they eat and clean up dinner, they play Clue. Charlie makes a wrong guess three turns in and has to sit the rest out.

“These board games are just luck.” Charlie mutters.

Liam laughs. “Sure, with the way you’re playing them. You are allowed to strategize, though, if you ever want to try it.”

“Shut up.” Charlie puts on an exaggerated frown, but their eyes sparkle. They’re having a good time, even though they lost.

With just two people left, the game goes very quickly. Puppy has narrowed down the person and the weapon when Liam makes his guess. He was right.

“He cheats!” Charlie exclaims. Liam shrugs. He tries not to act like it, but he’s very competitive and very happy to have won.

“I want to watch a movie before bed.” Puppy says. The others agree, so the three of them watch a movie with no gore at all, one that they all enjoy.

Liam and Puppy curl up together, and Charlie sits closer than usual, wrapped up in a blanket. They’re more comfortable with touch when it’s not skin to skin.

Puppy can’t stop smiling. What a good day today has been. And what a good week it’s going to be. Tomorrow she’ll go to the farmer’s market, and on Friday she has a modern dance lesson.

She sighs contentedly. She is safe and warm and no one can hurt her, no one wants to hurt her. Her friends are safe and warm and no one can hurt them, no one wants to hurt them.

If only it was real.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @ghostsinthecloset @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumper #multiple whumpees #whumpee #caretaker #pet whump #3rd person pov #jane’s pets #I don’t know if I should even tag this as whump but in context it’s pretty sad #50 chapters in and we reveal Puppy’s main coping skill

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conjurethecosmos · 4 years ago

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Honey we need to talk - Steve Rodgers x little!reader

AN:///Hey this is my first fan fiction so please don’t be that hard on me lmao. also i just wanted to say that this isn’t a kink and I don’t write any kink related stuff. PSA age regression is a coping mechanism. If you like my work please like <3 also my asks are open so feel free to ask or suggest stories if you like :)

Word Count: 2k

(Y/N) POV

The surviving Avengers were finally coming back to the tower. Life had already changed just within the hours of the blip, but (Y/N) was alone and did not know about the blip. (Y/N) had been home at the tower safe, protected, from the terror that the avengers were fighting. She knew about Thanos and how he was trying to get all the stones, but the Avengers are the most powerful superheroes ever, they have to win, right? F.R.I.D.A.Y had been keeping watch of the currently sleeping (Y/N) making sure she was okay. The Avenger’s tower was known to be soundproof to keep the bustling sound of the city outside, which is why (Y/N) hadn’t been disturbed. The screams, screeches of cars, and general commotion of the people were not heard by the sleeping girl. F.R.I.D.A.Y did know what had happened when she lost contact with most of the avengers. She did not want to alarm (Y/N) since she had been extremely stressed out and with stress came her age regression. F.R.I.D.A.Y just did not want her to panic without anyone to physically console her since almost everyone she loved was gone. She would just wait till the remaining avengers arrived back to tell her what happened and so she could inevitably regress in the comfort of someone’s arms.

(Y/N) woke up with a yawn surrounded by scattered stuffed animals and ruffled bedsheets. The first thing that she wanted to do was to check her phone to see if Bucky, Steve, or Peter texted her to check up or send a picture of them together happy and coming home. Peter was a regressor like (Y/N) and they would always play together in the toy room conveniently located next to (Y/N)’s room. But, when she tapped on their phone it would not turn on. Even the dead battery screen that would pop up if she did forget to charge her phone the night before didn’t even pop up. So, she decided to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y what was wrong with the phone. “I am sorry (Y/N) I can not seem to turn on your phone, there doesn’t seem to be any issue with it” F.R.I.D.A.Y states. “What do you mean nothing wrong? It won’t even turn on. Ugh I guess I will have to go and get a new phone then.” (Y/N) says. That is when F.R.I.D.A.Y quickly responds “I am sorry to tell you this, but I have been advised to keep you inside for your safety.” She let out a huff and decide that she might as well get dressed. She doesn’t even know when everyone will be back, but the night before Steve called and said that they would all probably be back the following day. All she wanted to do is color and play with stuffies with Peter while Steve sat in the chair in the corner of the shared playroom reading a book.

Steve’s POV

Bucky disintegrated right before his eyes. His best friend, gone, all from a snap. Thanos had disappeared and left Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Bruce enraged, however, what could they do. The flight back was solemn and quiet. No one dared to cry in front of each other despite the trauma accumulated today, save for Nat who sat quietly crying. Steve only looked forward to seeing his favorite person, (Y/N), which he cared for most of the time due to her tendency to regress when he is with her. He did not mind at all, in fact his caring personality just made him gravitate more towards being (Y/N)’s caregiver. His brain was going a mile a minute just thinking of how to tell (Y/N) that half the population was gone, including some people she loved so much. The avengers were informed by F.R.I.D.A.Y which avenger had sadly been blipped. That only caused the already somber mood to become worse. Steve just sat there staring at the many buttons on planes’ cockpit thinking about how (Y/N) would react to the news of Peter being gone. He was her only little friend, he was always there for her when she was having a hard day and needed to regress. They were best friends, just like Bucky and I. ‘I think I will just tell her as an adult and then take care of her if she needs to regress’ Steve thought. They then eventually started descending onto the landing pad on top of the tower.

(Y/N)’s POV

It was now about 8 pm. You kept youself occupied by cleaning since oddly enough the usual cleaner never showed up.You thought that it was weird, but assumed that the cleaner may have had the day off or something. The T.V. was also broken, like your phone it wouldn’t turn on. You could not watch the news or a movie, so you were pretty bored the whole day. You were pulled out of your boring thoughts when you heard keys enter the lock on the front door. Steve entered first looking panicked as he looked around to see if you were there, alive. You smiled at him and gave him a big hug, which caused him to hug you tighter almost as if you would disappear right before him. Immediately, you knew it was a hard mission. I mean they were gone for weeks so it had to be hard. However, He had a look on his face that you had never seen before. “Honey we need to talk” Steve sighed. They both walked into your bedroom to talk in private. You sat down on your bed hugging your stuffed purple fluffy bunny that was won by Bucky at a fair one year. Steve got the chair by your desk and moved it to be in front of you and then sat. “So, I am sure you are wondering what happened today?” Steve asked. “Yeah kinda. I haven’t heard anything since my phone is broken and the T.V. was off” you huffed. “Sweetie there really isn’t a good way of putting this...” he hesitated for a second but then started talking again looking at you straight in the eyes, “So Thanos got all the stones and snapped his finger which caused half the population to disappear.” You then started hugging your bunny as he continued to explain which avengers were gone. Tears were already starting to spill as you shut your eyes tightly. When he mentioned that peter was gone that is when you let out a loud pained cry. Steve had to hug you, to comfort his princess. He was not sure if he should have told you that a ton of people were gone, but you needed to know. If he didn’t and you would have asked about Peter, it would probably cause him to burst into tears. You started to regress, he could tell because you started sobbing and rocking. He knew that he needed to comfort you better than just hugging you so he decided that distracting you might be better. “Princess, I know you are sad about what I told you, but I just want you to know I am here for you.” Steve calmly says. “Bu-But I wan Pete n buck” (Y/N) blubbered. “I know baby, you can cry as much as you want,” He says while placing your head on his chest. Tears stain his shirt. He was tempted to cry with you, but he knew he needed to save his tears for when he was alone. Now was the time for his princess to grieve. After you crying for about twenty-five minutes Steve grabbed your paci so you could sleep. He could tell you had regressed. He placed you on your bed to lay down with your favorite bunny stuffie in your arms. Steve decided to sleep in the chair for the night just to watch over you in case you woke in the middle of the night in need of some comfort. He sat there staring at your sleeping form silently sobbing just because of all the stress of the day. It just hit him like a wave, but he eventually fell asleep. You woke up at 2 am to use the bathroom. You looked around the nightlight lit room to find Steve passed out in a chair located in the corner of the room. You slowly walked over, stuffie in hand, to wake the superhero up. You could not go to the bathroom by yourself since she was scared Thanos would be outside her door. Not even the bravest stuffie you owned could calm your fears. You poked Steve’s thigh to wake him up. Steve looked around in a panic only to see your puffy face. “Hey doll, what does my little princess need?” he asks. “I need to go potty, but I scared to go alone...” You shyly stated. “That’s okay, come on baby.” He escorts you to the bathroom and back. “Um Stevie, could you pwease cuddle me to sleep. I scared to sleep myself?” You sheepishly ask. ”Of course my baby.”

The next morning

You had woken up small. You could only speak like a three-year-old. That was okay with Steve though because he loved caring for you. He carried you into the living room and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and you a sippy cup with strawberry milk with a plate of mini pancakes. He turned on your favorite Disney movie while he cooked for you. Caring for you was a needed distraction. He needed to feel like he was making a difference and obviously, the events of the previous day made him feel like all his efforts of protecting America or the Earth were all for nothing. But, taking care of you was rewarding and therapeutic. “Stevie, thanks for the pancakes, dis milk is so good too!” (Y/N) exclaimed with a cute little smile. “Aw, you’re so welcome, sweetie.”

5 years later

Time had passed, (Y/N) regressed more often than ever. She was rarely ever her adult self. Thankfully Steve had set up a group talk therapy session with some survivors which (Y/N) joined every time they had a meeting. She would only talk about missing Peter while hugging a stuffie she would bring. The group members never judged her though since they all had their own coping mechanisms if they had any. She was usually really shy in front of the group since mentally she was three and really did not have that much to say in front of the strangers.

Eventually, Bruce hatched an idea to bring everyone back, which caused you to be alone again. You just stayed in the playroom alone playing with barbies or watching a movie. Steve would call you from time to time to check up on you, luckily F.R.I.D.A.Y was a great caretaker and gave you your basic needs. The Avengers were now successful in bringing everyone back. Sadly, Tony had passed away though. You attended his funeral with Steve at your side. You still hadn’t seen Peter yet but did not want to interrupt his grieving since Tony was his main caregiver and mentor. Tony was the only father figure he had and he was just gone. Steve decided it would be best to have you pick a stuffed animal at the store for Peter to keep during this hard time. You decided on a red bear with a gold ribbon on his neck. Steve had the red bear in his hands ready to gift to Peter, while you had a new Pink bear with a white bow around its neck that you named Poppy. Once the funeral was done Steve held your hand to walk up to Peter. He looked so small and in need of someone to care for him. Steve then spoke, “Peter, I am deeply sorry for your loss. I know how you feel and if you need (Y/N) or me, don’t hesitate. (Y/N) thought that she should get you this special bear for you to give you comfort.” He handed Peter the red bear and Peter just hugged it close. Steve knew that he was going to have to take care of Peter and (Y/N) from now on, but he was ready for it. He loved you both dearly. “I hope you like the bear Peter, I thought you would like him since he’s your favorite color. See I have a pink one like yours, we’re twins!” You said trying to distract Peter. Peter rarely ever spoke when he was little, and this wasn’t any different. He eventually accepted your gift with a tight hug as his tears fell on your shoulder.

Time skip: a couple of months

Peter eventually moved into the tower and got a room next to yours. Steve now had two regressors to take care of now, but at least he had the aid of Bucky who would just baby sit. You were currently in your room putting on one of Steves old shirts with black leggings. His shirts made you feel even smaller since it was so baggy. Steve then quietly knocked on your door for permission to come in. “Yes?” you asked. Steve then opened the door and stepped in with his hand in Peters. Peter had a smile on his face for probably the first time in months. You smiled back and then turned to face Steve who obviously wanted to ask you something. “Are you little right now (Y/N) or are you big because Pete wants to play blocks with you?” Steve asks. You beam and excitedly say, “I wan play blocks! Pete can we make a town wif da blocks and cars and my dollys?” This just caused Peter to run and hug you. You two ran to the next room to play together. Storage containers were quickly opened and blocks were scattered to begin construction on the town. Steve watched you two play from the door with a smile on his face.

I am sorry this story was everywhere

#little!reader #age regression fic #regressed!reader #avengers x little!reader #cg!steve #little space fanfiction

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chanshood · 3 years ago

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Ghost of You

Pairing- Hyunjin x fem!reader

Synopsis- Hyunjin would hum some irregular melody as he turned you in the slowest of circles, the warm afternoon breeze tousling your skirt and stirring his bangs as it embraced you both while you danced on the balcony. Cares of prospecting strangers void as you both relished in the feel of each other’s embrace. But that had been months ago.

Genre- angst

Warnings- loss of a character, dealing with loss

Word Count- 3K

A/N- Inspired by 5 Seconds of Summer’s “Ghost of You.” Which coincidentally enough also works very well as the backtrack for this fic. Feel free to immerse yourself with the song playing in the background.

Sundays were always Hyunjin’s favourite day of the week, especially in the summer. Not only did he get to sleep in through all hours of the morning, he was often awoken by a variety of smells ranging from your freshly washed hair tickling his nose to greasy bacon wafting from the kitchen. But these weren’t the real reasons why Sundays were Hyunjin’s favourite.

If by chance he could beat the fatigue from his eyelids by the time you finished showering, he’d be able to shamelessly catch glimpses of your reflection in the bathroom mirror, a towel barely holding onto your curves as you brushed your stringy wet locks. Or steal glances of your naked skin as you walk to your shared closet to slip into that pale pink sundress Hyunjin knew you only wore because it was his favourite.

Then he would shut his eyes again, drifting back to doze off soundlessly before you came to wake him with a kiss on the cheek and your fingers tickling his collarbones.

He’d always fake that he didn’t want to leave the bed, grasping your fingers as you turned to leave for the kitchen and begging you to crawl back under the duvet with him. Hyunjin always knew his attempts were futile, the idea of tasting strawberries on your lips coaxing him out of bed and into a shower of his own only to meet you in the kitchen when his loose pale-blue button down was tucked into the belt holding up his dark slacks.

In the kitchen, you would have soft r&b playing, the melody humming off your lips as you stepped around the kitchen, your movements fluid as you spun around to cook what you proclaimed the best meal of the week: brunch. Hyunjin would dance too, hands on your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, hips swaying with yours as he watched contently as you stirred the hash browns and flipped the pancakes. Only to pout to himself when you kindly asked him to brew a pot of coffee or sent him to prepare the table on the balcony. But his smile would return promptly when you’d turn to kiss him just before he left the embrace.

When the food was gone, the two of you would find each other. Like magnets drawn to one another, your arms hung loosely around his neck as he held you close by your hips. Hyunjin would hum some irregular melody as he turned you in the slowest of circles, the warm afternoon breeze tousling your skirt and stirring his bangs as it embraced you both while you danced on the balcony. Cares of prospecting strangers void as you both relished in the feel of each other’s embrace.

But that had been months ago.

Hyunjin awoke on a Tuesday morning, blinking away the sleep that held tightly to his eyelids as he reached out to your side of the bed, hand meeting empty sheets instead of your figure that always greeted him with warmth. He sat up quickly, panic flooding his veins until he heard your voice humming loudly from the kitchen. With a sigh, Hyunjin relaxed back into his pillow, a silly smile on his lips as he shook his head at himself.

“You better be on your way out of bed, mister!” Your voice called through the apartment and Hyunjin giggled to himself, smiling widely as he obediently rolled from the sheets.

“Yes, ma’am.” He called before moving to greet you at the stove.

“No work today?” You inquired, hair tied behind your head as you folded the omelette in the pan, just as Hyunjin guessed.

“Nope,” Hyunjin popped, eyes sparkling as he gazed at you from where he was leaning against the counter. “I’ll be meeting Felix for lunch though.”

“Awe, I like Felix,” You mutter, smiling over your shoulder.

“I know you do,” Hyunjin mutters to himself as his eyes caress your memorable figure, still clad in his t-shirt.

“Tell him I say hi, okay?”

Hyunjin’s heart stutters in his chest momentarily at your request, increasing in pace as his palms feel slippery against the ceramic of his coffee mug. “Of- Of course, sweetheart.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help the smile that worked its way onto his chapped lips as he watched you, umbrella in hand as you stared in through the glass of the restaurant, hand waving excitedly at him. You’re crazy. Always so crazy. Hyunjin thought; the memory of last Easter holiday, filling his mind.

That Easter Sunday had been spent hunting coloured eggs in the park as it had also rained. But you had been so determined to find the egg that Minho proudly proclaimed no one but him would be able to find. Hyunjin had had to collect you when your raincoat was no longer participating properly to shield you from the downpour. Hyunjin shook his head, unable to fight the smile that only grew more as he watched you, nose pink from the damp air and hair wet despite the umbrella.

Your lips moved, three little words mouthed so clearly that Hyunjin’s cheeks felt pink when he caught your words, his chest filling to the brim with the same amount of affection as he adoringly shook his head again.

“And then I thought we could go- you’re not even listening, are you?” Felix sighed, bright chestnut irises molding into concern as he watched the taller boy gaze out the window.

“Sorry, what?” Hyunjin inquired, turning back to the blonde while trying to keep his joy concealed in his throat. “I’m listening.”

Felix gave Hyunjin a look of disbelief before his eyes were peering out the window too, “What are you looking at anyway?”

Hyunjin blinked, eyes snapping to meet Felix’s freckled features, “Nothing.” He lied. However, his irises disrespected him, glancing out into the rainy street again to find you had gone. Hyunjin’s joy faltered slightly, worry crawling up his throat as he blinked around the television frame of the restaurant window that you seemed to have vanished from. When Hyunjin returned his gaze back to his friend, he cleared his throat, “I thought I saw a squirrel bouncing around the puddles.”

Felix sighed, still unbelieving of his friend but he responded nonetheless, “If you say so… But hey, I have to get going. Will you make it home okay?”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at the smaller boy, “Pfft, it’s only rain, I can manage just fine.”

Felix only nodded, an empathetic smile holding his lips as he slipped on his raincoat. Hyunjin, however, didn’t catch what Felix had really meant by the question and took to the pavement with eager steps back to his apartment.

“Jinnie!” Your voice greeted him when he stepped through the door and Hyunjin’s smile widened as he called your name in return.

“What were you doing in the rain?” He scolds lightly as he finds you in the living room.

“I was in the area, doing some shopping,” You explain casually, “And I knew you’d be at that restaurant, it’s your favourite.”

Hyunjin smiles, nestling himself into the plush grey cushions of the sofa to shove the guilt in his chest into his stomach, “It is my favourite, isn’t it?”

You hummed and Hyunjin held his lips firmer to keep the smile on his face as his eyes darted from your bare-faced profile adorned in messy fly-aways to his fingers fiddling with a seam on his denim blue jeans. The restaurant, the one he had asked Felix to meet him at earlier that day, had been your favourite. Hyunjin had only adopted the favoritism for the place recently, and for a reason he didn’t need to explain to Felix, he had ordered your favourite dish instead of his usual grilled chicken pasta.

It was another two weeks when Hyunjin had just left the shower, finding the apartment almost eerily quiet. Hyunjin didn’t like quiet. Not anymore. But much to his surprise, and startlement, his cell phone rang loudly from where it rested on the living room table. Ruffling his dark locks with a fluffy bright yellow towel - one that you had claimed to be yours - Hyunjin rushed to grab the device. Out of habit, he made to immediately swipe to answer, but then the caller ID caught his attention and he hesitated.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Your voice piped up from behind him. “It’s Chan.”

He nodded, swiping to answer the call and raising the piece to his ear, “Hyung?”

“Hyunjin-ah, how are you?” Chan asked, voice calm and gentle down the line, his tone flooded with concern and it made Hyunjin’s heart pound against his ribs.

“Oh, um, I’m alright. How are you?” Hyunjin’s teeth chewed profusely on his bottom lip.

“Tell him I say hi!” You chirp from somewhere in the room. Hyunjin’s stomach plummets. Of course you’d request that. Chan had always been the one you got along with the most. Not that you hadn’t gotten along with the others, but Chan and you seemed to click almost instantly. It had made Hyunjin wary in the first few months of you two being together, how often you chatted and casually accompanied Chan on his errands. After a particular night, however, where your love was confessed in subtle whispers and between sheets, Hyunjin’s wariness dissipated and his trust was placed wholeheartedly into your trustworthy hands.

Hyunjin gulped, trying to ignore your voice echoing between his ears now as Chan continued, “I’m doing alright as well. I’m just… worried about you. You haven’t been around much lately…”

That was the truth. Since… weeks ago, Hyunjin had decreased his frequency to the guys’ dorm. He left practices as soon as they were over. He exited the studio the moment his vocals were approved. All only to rush back to the apartment he had shared with you. This was his home after all and he seemed to only find comfort between these pale blue walls where your slowly fading scent filled his nostrils and your voice in his ears eased his mind.

“I’m sorry…” Hyunjin sighed carefully down the line after moments of silence. He found a tentative seat on the edge of the grey sofa, “I’m doing alright, I promise. I just really like being at home…”

Chan hums, “I understand. But, you’ll always have us, okay? The guys and myself are here for you, alright?”

Always. The word bounces around Hyunjin’s mind, echoing in a whisper that gradually grows harsher with every repeat. What a stupid word, an empty promise, a once meaningful word that had been stripped to nothing but measly bones that cracked under the pressure of life. A promise often broken by hardened circumstances, quarrels, and illnesses.

Hyunjin gulps, a lump in his throat strangling his breath as he inhales deeply, “Thanks, Hyung. I know you are… it’s just been… hard.”

Hyunjin can hear Chan breathe softly down the line, “I know. Come around whenever, yeah?”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin strains to keep his voice from wavering.

“Of course. I’ll let you go now, yeah? Call if you need.” Chan hung up. Hyunjin broke.

Discarding his device on the empty seat beside him, Hyunjin meets his blurring vision with the heels of his palms and a choked sob breaks through his throat. Followed by another. And another. He had cried already, so much that he was so exhausted of crying, but that didn’t stop him from heaving sobs. His lungs burned for oxygen as his wails depleted them over and over, never slowing until he reminded himself of your voice.

“Baby,” You muttered softly, the tone soft and gentle, just the way Hyunjin remembered it to be. And if you had been there, Hyunjin knew you would have sat gently beside him, carefully removing his hands from his eyes so you could cradle his cheeks in your palms where you would wipe his tears for him. Then you would have coaxed his red puffy eyes to look into yours as you’d mutter so confidently, “You’ll be alright. Just one day at a time, okay?”

It worked. Your voice whispered in gentle mutters repeated again and again, until Hyunjin’s trembling sobs became nothing more than hiccuped sniffles. He fell asleep on the sofa that night, curled in on himself and truthfully alone in that apartment despite the way he thought.

Before Hyunjin knew it, another month had gone by. He eagerly waved farewell to the heat of the summer sun and embraced the cooling breeze of Autumn. He still thought of you, often, everyday even. You never left him, really. Your voice and picture-perfect memories of how you’d act playing before Hyunjin’s eyes and between Hyunjin’s ears. To him, you were very much alive. Especially within the walls of your apartment.

Today, oddly enough, Hyunjin found himself smiling as he walked back into the apartment. A content smile that he felt warming his chest, the feeling distantly familiar. Practice had gone really well, and he had even stayed for dinner at the guys’ dorm. Probably his longest visit with the guys in a couple months. He had laughed there too, smiling and joking, like he had been when it was you he had attached to his arm and not Jisung, gripping his bicep and exclaiming giggle-worthy puns into his ear.

But his smile vanished almost immediately when he entered the apartment to find it soundless. Hyunjin had the habit of your voice welcoming him home whenever he returned from anywhere, but that didn’t happen. He tried to suppress the panic flooding his mind as he hastily stepped out of his shoes to look around the empty apartment.

“Y/n?” He called, eyes scanning the bedroom frantically.

“In the kitchen.” Came your voice, soft and quiet.

Hyunjin’s panic ceased, a relaxed smile resting on his lips as he moved to greet you happily in the kitchen, “There you are! I didn’t know-” He froze, finding your ghostly memory seated at the table littered with picture-perfect papers and his smile vanished along with the colour on his face.

“Jinnie…” Your voice sighed carefully, and Hyunjin watched as your eyes shifted from the table littered in printed photos to where he stood in the doorway.

You had always had a philosophy that memories captured in photos were better remembered when they were grasped between the pads of your fingers, and not encased in a hand-held electronic box. Where you could physically touch the memory and perhaps even taste it, smell it, feel it as your mind fluttered back to them. A philosophy Hyunjin had continued to replicate even long after your illness restricted you to the hospital bed.

Last night, after Hyunjin concluded you’d have gone to bed, he pulled out the box containing the photos to look over all the memories you had made together. Like that one trip to the beach, where Hyunjin complained about the sand and you didn’t help by tossing handfuls of it on his legs. Or last Autumn when you both attended a festival and sat under the golden evening sun as you rested on hay bales. And finally, all the memories Hyunjin had thought he had wanted to forget. All the ones that had been made within the bland walls of your hospital room where you were wired to machines that beeped annoyingly.

But Hyunjin forgot to clean the images up last night.

He hadn’t realized he was crying again, not until he blinked and his salty tears met his cheeks. His heart breaking as the memory of your glassy eyes bounced between him and the image pressed under your fingertips. He’d always hated seeing you cry.

“Baby,” You muttered, volume barely above a whisper. “I’m not real, am I?”

“You are,” Hyunjin choked, his feet carrying him closer to the table and he wished he could embrace you in his arms and pull you away from those wretched memories. But even as he spoke through a voice clouded with fear and grief, he knew he couldn’t hold you ever again. “You’re so real.”

“But, baby, I don’t live here anymore.”

“You do,” Hyunjin cried.

“Jinnie..” A sob fell past his lips at your quiet voice saying his nickname again. “I can’t stay.”

“You can!” Hyunjin pleaded, his knees feeling weak as his hands gripped the top of a chair. “I can’t be happy without you. You’re everything, Y/n!” His shoulders shook with his sobs now and his legs gave way as he crumpled to the kitchen floor tiles.

Your presence before him caused his eyes to look up, and even through his tear-blurred vision he could tell your own tears had escaped your eyes, “You know I love you right?”

Hyunjin could feel it in his bones that there was a good-bye coming, that only caused him to sob harder, “Me too, I need you. I love you. Don’t leave me, please.”

“Baby,” You whispered, a vision of tears staining your cheeks as a sad but comforting smile held your lips, “I’m just a memory, I always will be. But you have to let me go, okay? You’ll be alright.”

Hyunjin shook his head frantically. Trying to shake the fact that deep down, he knew it too. He couldn’t hold you here like this, containing his memories of you to repeat like a ghost dancing around his apartment. He needed to heal, to grieve, to come to terms with the hard truth that you really wouldn’t be here to welcome him home, or tickle his collarbones, kiss his lips, or hug his waist. You were gone, indefinitely. “No, no, no. I won’t be, not if you’re not here.”

“You will be. I know it,” Your voice, even thick with tears, encourages his ears and despite the way his chest feels like it’s going to cave in on itself, his heart swells, tentatively realizing that maybe he would be okay.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Hyunjin mutters through a choked sob.

“I know, and I’ll always be with you. But for now you have let me go, okay?” Hyunjin could almost feel the way your fingers carefully combed his hair back from his face and the way your lips lingered on his forehead. He nodded softly, and your voice faded softly, “You’ll be alright.”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #writing #kpop

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spookyboywhump · 4 years ago

Text

May 15th

AHAHA I FINISHED IT AND I LIKE IT

Soft content for Eli’s birthday, featuring some baby Eli content as well

CW: fluff. Eli cries a bit. It’s actually quite happy

***

He kicked his legs excitedly as he sat there in the booth, his brand new shark stuffie clutched tightly in his arms. He was so small, it was quite big compared to him, but that just made it all the better in his opinion. He was only just now turning six years old, but he was certain this was the best birthday, and the best gift he’d gotten in his whole little life.

Everett had kept him home from school that day, he was already excited to brag to anyone who would listen tomorrow about how cool his brother was for doing so. He had made him breakfast, pancakes with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and after that he’d let him choose his own clothes for the day, instead of the strict and stuffy outfits their mother preferred he wore. He didn’t even fight him on his hair, simply tied it back in two ponytails for him instead of fighting with a brush while he cried. To him, it was already a great day just from the morning.

After that, he’d taken him out for the day. He’d repeatedly asked him where they were going but Everett simply assured him it was a surprise, only serving to make him more excited. He hadn’t been able to guess where Everett was taking him, but when he saw it was the aquarium, he had accidentally squealed from how excited he was, happily flapping his hands until Everett picked him up and had him sit on his shoulders so he wouldn’t run off in his excitement, as he was known to do.

He was completely in awe of the exhibits they passed through. They spent nearly thirty minutes in front of the tank of moon jellies because he just couldn’t stop staring at them. He thought that was the best, at least, he did until they entered one room where they could actually touch things. Everett was hesitant to do so but he set him down in front of the low tank, and he had absolutely no issue with sticking his hand into the water, gasping when his fingers brushed over the back of a small passing stingray.

“E-Ev- Ev! It’s a, it’s like a, like a pancake!” He giggled excitedly. He snatched his hand out of the water, spreading his hands out as he said, “It’s uh, it’s uh, it’s smooth and flat, it’s like a- like a pancake!” He said, waving his hands excitedly.

“A pancake? Really?” Everett laughed, and he nodded, happy to stick his hands back into the water, a look of absolute glee on his face.

They spent a long time at the aquarium, simply because he felt the need to look at everything for a prolonged period of time. Everett didn’t seem to mind though, he let him take his time and on their way out they stopped in the gift shop. He wasn’t the kind of kid to ask for anything, he knew the answer was likely to be no, but he couldn’t stop staring at the shark plushies, and after a while of him looking between them and his brother, Everett said he’d buy it for him, since it was his birthday after all.

He took him out for lunch once they finally left, and then to a park so he could run around, holding onto his shark while he did so so it wouldn’t get dirty. And now, as the day was ending, he brought him to a small ice cream shop, an especially rare treat for him. He’d gone to get their ice cream, leaving him there alone but still in his line of sight. He perked up when he saw him coming back, he had a cup with large scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream for him and one with strawberry ice cream for himself.

“Here you go, kid.” Everett said, setting it down in front of him as he took a seat across from him.

“Th-tha-thank you!” He said, grabbing the spoon and excitedly shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

“Have you had a good day?” He asked him, taking a bite of his own ice cream while he happily nodded.

“Mmhm! I-I- I had- had fun!” He giggled softly. “I like- I liked the- the- the fish! And- and my shark! I love my- my- my shark!”

“Are you gonna name it?” He asked, and he looked to the shark, making a face as he thought it over.

“Mmmm… Ev.”

“Yeah?”

“N-No- no his name- his name is Ev.” He said, looking up at him. “Since Ev got him- got- got him for me, his name- his name is Ev.” He said, and Everett smiled at him.

“You’re a sweet kid, you know that?” He said, and he giggled, happily shoving more ice cream into his mouth.

By the time they finished he was bouncing in his seat, even more hyper from the sugar. Everett cleaned up after them, getting up and leaving the table for a moment. He watched his brother, on his way back he stopped somebody, asking them to take a quick picture of them together and explaining it was his birthday. When they agreed, he sat down next to him, pulling him into a hug, both of them flashing big grins as the stranger took a picture, commenting on how cute the pair of siblings were as they handed the phone back to Everett.

“Can I- can I- can I see?” He asked, getting up on his knees, and Everett showed him the phone, the photo of them together, he had a big grin on his face, one of his front teeth missing and his shark still in the background. “Oooohhh! I- I love- I love it!” He giggled, and Ev smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, kid.” He told him, and he clung to him tightly, a big smile spread across his face.

After they left, Everett carried him home, having to carry his shark in one arm so he wouldn’t drop it. It was quite late in the day, and after spending so much time out and being so active, he was quickly growing sleepy, struggling to keep his eyes open as they got closer to his apartment. Once there Everett carried him back to their shared room, laying him down and handing him his shark, taking a moment to pull his shoes off for him.

“I’m glad you had fun.” Everett said, brushing wispy strands of brown hair back from his face.

“I- I- I had…” He paused to yawn, finishing with, “I had lots- lots of fun…” He murmured, curling up and cuddling his new shark close. He was asleep in only minutes, a content smile still on his face. Everett smiled as he looked down at him, so happy and so relieved he’d been able to do this for him.

***

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not just yet, we’re almost there.” Zander told him, steering him by the shoulders. “And no peeking.” He told him, Eli snapping his good eye shut when he said it. They’d spent the day out together, Zander had taken him to the aquarium and listened to all his talking and rambling, and now they were finally returning to his apartment, but Zander was insistent that he kept his eyes shut. He heard him unlock the door and push it opened, tugging him inside by his wrist and only stopped in what Eli assumed was the dining room just off his living room.

“Alright- you can open your eyes now.” Zander told him, and he didn’t have to be told twice.

“Surprise!”

He nearly jumped back, startled but a grin quickly spread across his face at what he saw. Cara, Lila, Alec, even Alondra were there, crowded around his dining room table. They’d hung a happy birthday banner on the wall behind them, and gotten blue and white balloons for him, tying them to the chairs. They’d hung pale blue streamers from the ceiling, and on the table was takeout food from his favorite restaurant, and a cake with blue icing and number candles for “25”, and the words “Happy Birthday Elias”.

“Eli- shit, kid are you okay?” Zander asked, sounding worried as he brought his hands up to cover his mouth, blinking back tears.

“I’m- I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m sorry, I love it!” He laughed.

“Aww, Elias you can’t cry on your birthday!” Cara said, coming around the table and pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no I’m so happy! This is perfect, I love you guys!” He said, reaching up and wiping at his eyes. Cara pulled away so they could all take a seat at the table, Alec using a lighter to light the candles, the small group singing happy birthday for him while he tried to keep from crying again.

“Make a wish!” They told him and he blew out the candles, smiling as Zander ruffled his hair.

“What did you wish for?” He asked him, and Eli laughed.

“I’m not telling, I want it to come true.” He said. He gladly accepted a slice of cake when Alondra passed him a plate, looking excited.

“I hope you like it, they said this was your favorite.” She said, and he grinned when he saw the inside was layered vanilla cake, one layer white and one colored blue.

“You made this?” He asked, and she nodded as he took a bite, only for his eyes to widen. “Oh shit- this is amazing!” He covered his mouth to hide the grin on his face, looking up at her. “I love it! Thank you so much!” He said, and she grinned at him.

“I’m so glad!” She looked both happy and relieved at the same time, as though she’d really feared he wouldn’t.

It was easily one of the best nights he’d had in a while, surrounded by his friends as they ate and talked and laughed. Once they had all had their fill of food, they brought Eli into the living room, having him sit down on the couch in front of the coffee table, a few gifts placed in front of him that they insisted he opened.

Cara and Lila had gotten him matching pink and green squid shaped pillows, and Alec had gotten him a set of books he’d been collecting. Alondra had given him a homemade apron, made from jellyfish printed fabric and a set of blue baking spatulas with white polka dots, measurement conversions printed on the back, and Zander had gotten him an adorable cat shaped lamp, which would fade through different colors when it was one. He was so excited over each and every one of them, to the point of frantically flapping his hands as he thanked them, looking overjoyed.

“Oh, there’s one more thing.” Zander told him, going across the room to get something from the closet.

“We all picked this one out for you.” Cara told him, and Eli grinned as Zander brought back a rather large gift bag, filled with blue tissue paper. He had to pull quite a bit of it out to get to it, but his face lit up as he saw the item inside.

“Oh my god! I love it!” He cried, pulling out the large dolphin stuffed animal. It was absolutely adorable, he instantly hugged it close to his chest, already in love with how soft it was.

“We’re glad you like it.” Zander said, ruffling his hair. “Happy birthday, kid.” He said, sitting down and pulling him into a hug, only for the others to join in as best they could. It took all his self control to not burst into tears again, overwhelmed with happiness and love for his friends.

***

That night he laid in bed, Zander next to him as he had stayed the night. Zander had passed out after a few too many drinks but he was still awake, laying there and watching the pale light from his new little lamp change. He smiled, turning onto his side and cuddling both his shark and his new dolphin close to his chest, thinking over that year’s birthday wish.

I wish to be this happy all the time.

#not whump #fluff #my writing #my oc’s #Wren #Zander #Everett #Cara #Lila #Alec #Alondra #happy birthday eli #he’s baby #just baby

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rfadaydreaming · 4 years ago

Note

☯️ & ☮️ for Jumin? 🥺 I luv uuuu

beautiful mel ilu ♡ og headcanon game > here! (closed)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ; 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴... 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

˚. ☾; jumin absolutely loves mornings. there's just… something about them. the warm sun shining through the penthouse windows, the lazy way elizabeth the third stretches across the couch, the smell of strawberry pancakes in the air. the promise of a new day. he especially loves mornings if he’s dating you. maybe it’s the excitement of starting his day with the one he loves, always eager to see what awaits him next. waking you up with breakfast in bed is one of his most favorite things in the entire world. seeing your sleepy eyes widen or the way you slowly make your way to the kitchen when you smell his cooking, how his body moves without even thinking to give you a good morning kiss on the forehead, the first of the day, the first of many to come. he can’t get enough of domesticity. it’s something he didn’t realize he craved so desperately until he finally got it.

mini likes!

˚. ☾; sweet-sour snacks, yoosung gave him a sour gummy worm once and now ever since then, it’s a little guilty pleasure of his.

˚. ☾; people watching. not in a weird way, he just seems like the type to enjoy observing the world around him. wonders about people’s lives often. if you join in with him, sometimes the two of you create stories for strangers together as a pastime, the longer you two do it, the more obscure and drawn out the stories become.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ; 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴... 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

˚. ☾; loud noises. loud environments. loud loud loud. he’s amazing at hiding it, but he gets overstimulated way too much by sounds and noise. he tries to listen to everything at once, so many different things catch his attention. it’s a lot. on the outside no one would be able to notice, but there’s few people in this world who are able to see the signs of an overwhelmed jumin. you being one of them. hold his hand a little tighter, give him a kiss on the cheek, run your fingers through his hair on the car ride home, waiting out the aftereffects patiently, not being bothered by him being drained while the the nauseous buzz of the night takes its toll on his mind. he appreciates it more than you realize.

mini dislikes!

˚. ☾; super picky about textures. not even a “class” thing, he’s not trying to be a richboy even though zen claims that’s what it is, just can’t feel certain fabrics or materials because they will drive him up the wall. picky about his socks especially.

˚. ☾; hates popcorn. the shells get stuck in his teeth, it’s much too salty, doesn’t taste particularly good to him. will go on rants about how it’s the worst theater snack imaginable and he’s quite passionate about the topic.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ; 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴... 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

˚. ☾; whenever you’re sad, jumin is always the friend that's always there for you within an instant. while on the outside he might not seem like the comforting type, he really does show his concern in little ways.

⇠ do you need me to bring elizabeth the third over? i can promise you, she’s much better at comforting than i am.

⇢ jumin... it’s 3 am…

⇠ we’re both nightowls. besides, i’m sure she’d appreciate the beauty the city offers this late at night. would you like to join us for a ride to get your mind off things, mc?

he’ll listen to you rant, vent, cry. he’s a good shoulder to cry on. and the same goes for you. while jumin cherishes jihyun, it’s just… so much easier to open up to you for some reason nowadays. he’s a loyal friend, any secrets you may have shared with him will never be told to anyone else. his lips are sealed!

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin han #jumin han headcanons #woaah whys this so long #youd think he’s my favorite or smth 🙄!!!#gross not me. no sir #i’m kidding jumin han please kiss me i’m free monday afternoon please if you wantto ple

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superspookywombat · 4 years ago

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falling {j.h} chapter thirteen

Taglist: @Sleepy-whore @geekysimmerthings @mauvette268 @treestarrrrrrrr @kaleigh404 @krazykatkay456 @meganlikesfandoms @darknacademia @hi-my-name-is-riley @vdtwsupernatural @selmeuuh @raindancer2004 @wondersandtempests @royale-trash-slytherin @im-hella-bright @bootylimpics @livfg @It-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @peacemusicinch @coffeeslut16 @bvbwestfall @Actuallyedythecullen @stan-joonies @Peacebuglove @Millie-753 @Frozenhuntress67 @i-tried21 @seaevans @femflorals @arseofrivia @trashysara @vulgarfuckinvirgo @sleepysnapesnake @hey-bulldogs @mental-breaker-74 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @duty-isnt-always-honour @jelly-fishy-babie @carnagefuck @clubpengiunn @wondersandtempests @100-percent-loving @fandomsandmore394 @pomiotszatana @cherrybuck @alohorcruxes @accioavengerss @left-in-the-woods @galaxypox @what-if-im-the-bad-guy @daughterofanarchy997 @camillapad @babieboth @thequeerishere555 @your-average-wallflower @anxiety-station @xo-sophiemae-xo @rachthestressedbandobsessed @amordesiempre01 @avalon68 @imaginebeinlovedbyme @vampiregirl1797 @scuzmunkie @maelleoute @popwhitlockanddrop @aliinova @mikariell95 @happyfunprincess @affection-rabbit @xcharlottemikaelsonx @lavenderandwoodsmoke @generalgoldfishldrm @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @whattheheckisevengoingon @the-wandering-pan-ace @cm1126 @awkwardnesshabitat @moonxxstxr @thefandomplace @tracickles

Warnings: sad animal death (i almost cried while writing it) (it’s a bobcat), slight makeout sesh, y/n is a brat, not proofread

A/n: thank you so much for being patient, i’ve been flooded with writers block and then school also started up again so i’ve had a buttload of homework. Here’s a slightly longer chapter than usual as a thanks for the wait :)

As Emmett speeds down the interstate with Rosalie riding shotgun, you sit in the back of the Jeep with Jasper. A warm breeze blows your hair around as you watch the scenery pass.

“Who are these people again?” You ask, trying to get all of the information before meeting these strangers. Jasper absentmindedly strokes your hand while looking out at the sunset’s horizon.

“The Denali Coven. Irina, Kate, and Tanya are sisters. Carmen and Eleazar are together. They’re vegetarians too, which is why Carlisle’s sendin’ us there. He thinks it’ll help you adjust.” Jasper says. You look over at Emmett and Rosalie holding hands on the center console.

“How old are the sisters?” You ask. Jasper pauses for a moment, thinking. Before he can respond, Emmett butts in.

“Hella old.” He laughs, earning a pointed look from Rosalie.

“At least a thousand. Not sure Carlisle ever got an exact answer from ‘em.” Jasper says. You sigh, stale air exiting your lungs.

“That’s a long time to be alone.” You say quietly. You look over at Jasper, who catches your gaze. The sunset burst paints his skin like a stained glass window.

“They weren’t alone.” He says.

“You know what I mean.” You reply.

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

The moonlight illuminates the driveway as Emmett pulls in. A very large, very expensive looking cabin-y mansion sits nestled between two small mountains. The front door opens and your sharp sight tells you that there’s five people there, three blondes and two black-haired people. You grab your duffle bag by your feet and unload the truck with Jasper as Emmett and Rosalie go greet your hosts.

Walking over to the strangers, birds circle above you, exposing your anxiety. “Interesting.” The only man of the group says. “I’m Eleazar, this is my partner Carmen.”

“Y/n.” You say holding out your hand to shake. He grasps it strongly, and you smile up at him as the birds start to dissipate. Carmen offers you a smile and a small wave.

“I’m Kate.” The blonde with the straight hair walks towards you, enveloping you in her arms. Her smell invades your senses, but not in a bad way. Another girl next to her, a strawberry blonde, hugs you.

“I’ve heard such good things about you.” She pulls away, smiling and showing off her perfect, white teeth. “I’m Tanya. This is Irina.”

A woman with curly blonde hair smiles at you, giving your body a once-over. You’d blush, if you could. Emmett walks over with what seems to be everyone’s luggage slung from his shoulders.

“If you’re done with introductions, this guy needs some bear ASAP.” He says, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m starting to think you only visit us for the bears.” Eleazar teases. Most everyone chuckles at that, except Emmett, who is obviously hungry. Emmett sets the bags down at his feet.

“Hey! I like the meese too.” He says, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment from the teasing. Rosalie sighs.

“Meese?” You ask incredulously. Emmett looks at you like you’ve grown a third head.

“Uh, yeah. Never heard of a moose before? Come on, y/n.” He says, his eyes squinting. You look around at the group. Eleazar and Kate avoid eye contact, looking at the ground while fighting off a smile. Jasper looks away also, his hand rubbing the area above his lip to hide his. Rosalie raises an eyebrow and shifts her weight so that she’s looking at Emmett, her arms crossing over themselves. By now, Tanya, Irina, and Carmen have gone inside.

“You do know that the plural for moose is moose, right?” You ask, eyes wide. He looks at you for a second, not blinking for obvious reasons.

“Ha ha. Real funny.” He says. When no one responds, avoiding eye contact and hiding their smiles, he spreads his arms. You flinch, forgetting for a second that you’re nearly indestructible. “Wait.. really?”

You look back at Emmett. “Yes?”

Emmett looks around in disbelief. “When were you guys planning on telling me that! I’ve been sounding like an idiot this whole time?”

“I don’t think not sayin’ ‘meese’ would have changed that, Emmett.” Jasper says, his expression stoic except for the minuscule smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“We were betting on how long you’d go without realizing.” Rosalie says, then turns her head to give you a glare. “But now that’s ruined.”

“Sorry.” You say halfheartedly. She sighs again, picking up her bag and walking towards the house. Emmett follows her, giving you a wink.

“You must all be hungry.” Kate says. Jasper swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. His usually golden eyes are black, and you reach out to grab his arm lightly. He looks off into the distance. “I’ll let you guys get settled in first.”

As she walks off, you turn to look Jasper in the eyes. “Hey, you alright?” He gently shakes off your hand and reaches down for both of your duffels.

He nods. “I’m fine. Let’s get inside.” He walks ahead leaving you to trail behind him like a lost puppy. In the dark, the temperature has dropped enough that if you were still human, you’d be shivering. But now, of course, it has no effect on you.

As you follow Jasper through a large, wooden door, your jaw drops slightly as you take in your surroundings. The home is very open concept, you can only describe it as a minimalistic take on a modern rustic design. Jasper keeps walking, not at all phased by how impressive the interior is. You follow him past a very light and airy kitchen, and up some stairs that lead to an open landing that’s filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves and two heavy looking desks. You don’t have time to look any further, however, because he seems to have a one-track mind. He leads you into a guest room. It’s small (compared to the rest of the house), but the decor is light and minimalistic, leaving the room feeling not at all constricting. As you sit down on the bed, Eleazar greets you and leans against the door frame, Carmen standing behind him.

“I hope it’s okay that you two are sharing a bed.” He says, raising his eyebrows slightly. You glance at Jasper, who’s aggressively unpacking some of the items you brought along. As vampires don’t sleep, you obviously don’t need a bed. You guess that he’s cryptically asking about your relationship. Nonetheless, you respond.

You gasp, feigning shock. “Before marriage? How scandalous!” Eleazar looks alarmed, his eyes darting over to check Carmen’s reaction. He opens his mouth, most likely to backtrack and offer you another place to sleep, but you beat him to it. “I’m kidding. This is perfect.”

“Oh.” He says, a nervous laugh following soon after. He then leads Carmen away, closing the door behind him.

“I think I scared him off.” You say, sighing. Jasper is now standing, lightly shaking a box you brought to presumably check the contents.

“Mhm.” He answers, disinterested. You look at him, examining the light frown on his face.

“What’s your deal?” You ask, annoyed. His eyes flicker to you, alarmed, almost as if he’s surprised you called him out. He turns away from you, placing the box onto a dresser. You pull your legs criss-cross and lean forward, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Did I do something? I’m sorry.”

He glances at you before turning back around. “It’s not you,” He says, taking a pause. “It’s.. Irina.”

“What about her?” You ask, wondering if there’s a point to this. “She seems friendly enough to me.”

“That’s the problem.” He says through a clenched jaw. As you watch his knuckles tighten on the corners of the dresser, it dawns on you.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous..” You say with a breathy chuckle. He turns to look back at you, his eyes narrowed.

“It’s not funny.” He scolds, his southern accent poking through. Your eyes widen, then you double over in laughter. He watches you, perplexed. As you continue to laugh, he looks back at the wall in embarrassment. You calm yourself and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his hard waist and placing your head between his shoulder blades. He tenses.

“Relax, Jazz. I like you. And even if I didn’t, I’m still stuck with you forever. Literally.” You reassure, also teasing him. His shoulders droop a little, and you press a kiss to his toned back.

“That’s not funny.” He says, but you know he’s not serious.

“Yes it is.” You reply. His body shakes as he chuckles. He turns around, your arms still pulling him close to you. He tilts your chin up with his pointer and middle finger, the rest of his hand cupping your jaw. His thumb caresses your bottom lip so lightly that you barely feel it. You close your eyes as he leans in and kisses you. You smile against his lips as he pulls you closer, your chest touching his. His other hand cradles the back of your head, and your hands find themselves exploring the firm skin on his abdomen. Your fingers brush over raised, puckered scars, forcing a gentle growl to rise from his throat.

“Hey- Woah.” You hear as the door swings open. Instinctively, you place your hands on Jasper’s chest and push. He flies into the wall, a resounding ‘thump’ vibrating through the floor and into your feet. He re-steadies himself as you both look over to see Emmett standing in the doorway. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with us on a hunt, but,” He glances at you and you brush your fingers through your hair, making it look nice again. “If you’re busy..”

“We’ll be downstairs in a minute.” Jasper says, smoothing his shirt and readjusting his jeans. Emmett raises his eyebrows, then leaves. You look down at your feet, feeling like a misbehaving child. You hear the bed groan as Jasper sits down on it. You swiftly walk over to your duffel bag, grabbing one of the few outfits you brought with. You grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, pulling the item over your head. After your view is unobstructed again, you look at Jasper, who is trying to look at literally anything but your chest, only clad in a bra.

“W-What’re you doin’, darlin’?” He stutters.

“Changing into something that can get blood on it?” You answer, raising an eyebrow at him as you unbutton and then shimmy out of your pants.

He puts a hand up, shielding you from his eyes. “I s-should go see if Eleazar needs any help..”

“You should?” You tease seductively, bending over to pick up a pair of shorts, giving him a direct look at your cleavage. You pull them on, then climb onto his lap, straddling him. “Eleazar’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

“I suppose you do have a point..” He says, trailing off as his eyes flicker down to your breasts.

“Though maybe you’re right.” You sigh, pecking him on the lips. “You should go and help, be a good guest or whatever.”

He looks dazed, confused by your sudden dismissal. “But.. I- y/n..” He stutters. You pat him on the cheek, then you slide off of his lap and grab a t-shirt from the duffel. Sliding it over your head, you exit the room and bound down the stairs, leaving Jasper by himself.

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

“So we’ll split up, Kate and I will go with Jasper and y/n,” Tanya says, standing in the living room. “Irina will go with Emmett, Rose, Carmen, and Eleazar.”

“Great.” Rosalie says. “Can we go now?”

“As soon as Jasper gets down here.” Carmen says, glancing over at you. Rosalie rolls her eyes.

“Why do we have to wait?” Kate asks Tanya. Rosalie listens carefully, anticipating an answer.

“We’re doing a competition. One team versus the other, we’ll see who gets more catches.” Tanya replies. Emmett rubs his hands together.

“Nothing like a little friendly competition..” He says excitedly. Eleazar nods, a small smile looking out of place on his usually stoic face. A familiar scent wafts down the stairs, and you look over to see Jasper.

“Nice of you to finally join us.” Rosalie sighs. You look to the ground, smiling at yourself. Jasper walks over to you, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you close. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Irina stiffen. Emmett gives you a thumbs up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What do the winners get?” Kate asks.

“Is your thirst being satisfied not enough for you?” Tanya asks. Kate narrows her eyes at her sister. “Fine. Winners get to know that they’re better hunters than everyone else. Better?”

“That’s not fair! They have y/n- She basically controls animal minds!” Emmett whines. You smile, trying to ignore the guilt that settles in your stomach.

“You guys have an extra person. Some could argue that that makes us even.” Kate retorts. Tanya sighs, rubbing her forehead.

“Can we start now?” Carmen asks. Tanya nods, and everyone follows her out into the front yard. “3.. 2.. 1.. Go!”

Everyone springs up from a crouching position. You follow Jasper into the trees, the forestry whizzing past you. So many sounds and scents flood your mind, like the thrum of a squirrel’s heart, and the scent of a grizzly bear a half mile away. Jasper seems to have read your mind, and he runs off to find the bear, presumably just to tease Emmett. As he speeds off to find the bear, something halts you in your place. You skid to a stop, feet tearing into the moist forest floor. An unknown feeling tugs at your chest, and you take a step backwards. The feeling gets stronger, and you try to trace it back to the source.

When you walk into a small clearing, you see a red fox baring its teeth at a large bobcat, standing its ground in front of a den. You clap your hands, trying to scare the large cat off. It barely acknowledges you, and you walk over to the pair, physically putting yourself in between them. The bobcat advances, assuming you as an easy target. It lunges, and you meet it mid-air. You tackle it to the ground, its head hitting a rock. You can hear its skull crack, and immediately you scramble back, your fingers digging into the ground. Its pained whimpers flood your ears, and your face scrunches up.

“Oh god. What did I do?” You say, chest heaving. You crawl to the bobcat, cradling its head in your lap. Your hands shake as you place them around its neck and twist, a sickening ‘crack’ on replay in your mind. You look down at your hands that are now covered in blood, and you shiver as your instincts take over. You swoop down and sink your teeth into the now deceased bobcat’s neck, and a warm, syrupy metallic taste invades your taste buds. You can feel your stomach getting fuller and fuller until you physically can’t drink anymore. You snap out of your daze, and stare at the carcass pulled into your lap. Pushing it gently off of you, you brush your fingers through its fur, mostly slick with spilled blood. You close its eyes. Something at the edge of the clearing catches your eye- a much smaller bobcat watching you. Anguish overcomes you, radiating off of the small animal in tsunami sized waves. The fox now long gone, the bobcat slowly approaches. It comes closer and closer until it's sniffing at the bigger bobcats carcass. Then, it closes its eyes, nuzzling under its mother’s chin. Overwhelmed with grief and guilt, a whimper bubbles up from your throat. Dry sobs wrack your body as you enter a tear-less crying fit, watching the baby try to wake its dead mother. You smack the side of your head, trying to stop crying and force a clear head, but you only want to do one thing. Run.

Wind whips your hair around as you run, pushing yourself to go faster and faster. Before you realize it, your foot snags on a tree root, and you fly face first into some bushes. You sit up, pulling your knees to your chest as you spit out dirt and debris. The moon disappears from the night sky as you calm yourself. Soft footsteps approach you from behind, and not a second later, Jasper is sitting next to you, pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t say anything, he can put two and two together by seeing your blood soaked hands and clothes. He can feel what you're feeling. The two of you sit in silence, watching the sun rise as the warm colors causes your iridescent skin to glisten.

#jasper hale #jasperhale #jasper hale x reader #twilight x reader #twilight #Emmett Cullen #emmettcullen #rosaliehale #Rosalie Hale

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bisexualklausmikaelson · 4 years ago

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maybe you were the ocean, when i was just a stone (6/?)

a/n: I can't believe I'm revamping this fic but I'm revamping this fic - it will be uploaded on ao3 as well, I will not be updating it on ffn.

xvi: we could open windows -

Klaus isn't one for love triangles - he's not even one for love.

He's counted less than a handful of times where he has allowed himself to feel close enough to someone outside of his siblings to even call it that.

At most, this was just an infatuation of sorts, it must be.

Because he just couldn't fathom liking the same girl as his younger brother.

"Nik," Kol releases, as soon as he sees him. "Where have you been?" He wonders, realizing how he hadn't seen his brother for quite a few hours.

Klaus stammers, being uncomfortable with the memory of his biological father and his offer to stay with him. "I had a few errands to run," he nervously says.

Errands? Kol thinks, unable to remember the last time Klaus had been this responsible about his chores.

He observes them both carefully - how well Kol is dressed and how pretty Hayley's dress is. "I take it you both just came back from dinner with mother and father," Klaus concludes.

Kol and Hayley share a look, feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation.

"Yes," Kol nods. "I was just about to ask Hayley how she was feeling about everything," he says, shyly.

Klaus places a finger on his chin, pondering. "That's strangely considerate of you," he realizes just how much his brother is changing in the short amount of time that he's known Hayley.

It's unexpected, but he feels a smidge of jealousy.

"Hayley," Kol goes on, interrupting Klaus' thoughts. The girl looks at him while playing with a strand of her hair. "Did our parents say or do anything to make you uncomfortable?" he asks.

She thinks back to Esther's kindness, how close she felt to her just in the short time she had known her. Hayley shakes her head.

"Really?" Klaus notes, wide-eyed. "That's...surprising," he sighs, turning to his younger brother.

Kol senses an even bigger change, one deep inside himself. "Perhaps," he shrugs. "They've actually taken a liking to her?" he wonders, meeting Klaus' gaze.

The other brother focuses his vision on Hayley - how close she stands next to Kol, how comfortable she seems around him. "Maybe so," Klaus notes. "I suppose stranger things have happened," he softly says, thinking of how easily these two seem to fit together.

And how quickly their charade seemed to have become reality.

The beach calls her name - like a love song.

Hayley is restless that night, rolling around in her bed, staring at the ceiling, sweating.

Being human is still strange - it's nice not being alone or exiled by her own kind, being accepted by a lively family, having siblings - sort of anyway. But it's still all so new.

"You're awake," Henrik pops out from under her bed and scares her.

She was so busy being stressed out by her thoughts, she didn't even notice him sneaking in.

"What's wrong? Have a nightmare?" Henrik asks again, as Hayley offers him a nod of the head. He hops into bed with her, looking a little sad. "I have trouble sleeping too, bad dreams are all too common in this house, I'm afraid," he sounds so broken, all of a sudden.

Hayley knows the Mikaelson household is a lot colder than people think - despite their riches, their fame, how close the siblings seem to be, there is still so much loneliness in everyone's eyes.

She appreciates how easily Henrik bonds with her though - she's never had a younger sibling before, though she's always wanted one.

"Henrik," Cami bursts through the open door. "There you are, why are you out of bed?" she sings, joining the two.

Hayley motions for Cami to hop in but patting her hand on the sheets. She slips in beside Henrik, wrapping an arm around him.

"Cami," he whispers, "I didn't know you were still here," he adds.

"Rebekah asked me to spend the night - I'm just staying in her room," she continues. "I came out because I heard all the ruckus this little one was making," she smiles, teasing Henrik.

Hayley appreciates both their warmth - it can be quite scary sleeping in this big room, all by herself.

"I've always found this house so eerily quiet at night, you know?" Cami suddenly says.

Henrik looks at Hayley who also looks a bit scared. "We agree," he grins.

And that's the thing about the Mikaelson mansion, from the outside, it looks like this perfect palace - and once you're inside, you realize it's just feels so haunting.

(The three of them hold hands, walking together towards the balcony. They sit there for a bit, just looking out towards the beach.

"The water looks so calm tonight," Henrik comments.

"It's so strange isn't it?" Cami tells them. "Just the other day, it was raging on like a storm, now it's like a summer sea," she realizes.

Hayley looks there too, remembers her old home - the deep blue ocean, the fishes, the coral and seaweed.

Sometimes, she feels like it never really existed.

"I wonder what it's like," Henrik quips. "Way out there," he exhales, thinking more and more about the vast waters before them.

"I do too," Cami agrees - noticing how disconnected Hayley seems.

Almost as if she's been there before).

xvii: fix the fridge light and replace the phone

The sun invades Rebekah's room like an invited guest.

She finds a note on her bed, carefully written.

Such pretty hand-writing, she knows it's Cami's - so delicate and careful. Somehow, it almost makes her angrier about her early departure.

The fact that it's just so beautiful.

(Hey Rebekah, I know I know - you hate me right now but, before you send me an angry text I'll never get, just hear me out. I left something for you under your pillow, it's something I brought back from my last research trip, I hope you think of me when you wear it.

Rebekah holds back her tongue - she knows how important Cami's research is and how much value it has.

She shoves her hand under her pillow and finds a gorgeous piece of seaglass strung across a chain. It's green mixed with a bit of yellow - like Cami's eyes).

"Sister," Klaus walks in to her room with a shiny tray of freshly made pancakes, syrup, whip cream, strawberries and a warm cup of coffee. "I've brought you breakfast," he says, taking weird looks around her room.

Rebekah raises a brow as she takes the hot drink in hand. "What brings about such kindness, dear brother?" she laments.

Klaus keeps avoiding her eyes. "Can't you just thank me?" he offers.

She notices how disappointed he looks and connect the dots quite easily. This food wasn't intentionally made for her, after all. "If you're looking for Hayley," she concludes. "She woke up quite early and already had breakfast with Henrik and Kol," Rebekah tells him, recalling hearing their voices while she was half asleep, shortly after Cami had already left.

"Kol? Waking up early?" Klaus retorts. "I never thought I'd see the day," he huffs, with his hands on his hips.

His sister smiles as she starts digging in to the pancakes. "He's a changed man," she comments."Hmm, these pancakes are to die for, Nik!" She cheers, smiling.

Klaus feels that tinge of jealousy he felt earlier suddenly grow bigger. "Glad you like them," he quietly says, attempting to hide his real emotions.

Kol spends more and more time with Hayley.

He doesn't like to think that he's gotten close to her or that, somehow, she gets under his skin - it's just that, he needs to make this whole she's his girlfriend act convincing, you know? Whether that means having meals together, standing a bit closer to her than he usually does, even maybe looking deep into her eyes -

The truth is, he just really likes being around her.

She waves to Henrik as he runs off to play with some other kids he spots by the beach.

"He's very fond of you," Kol observes. "My little brother, I mean, he's usually quite shy around anyone but our family. I suppose you're part of ours now," he babbles on and he almost bites his tongue.

God, what the hell was he saying right now? He sounded like a fool - calling her his family, really? He's only known her for a little over a month!

What was wrong with him?

"Would you like to go for a swim with me?" Kol requests instead, trying to change the subject and how flustered he felt at the moment.

She offers him a bright smile, running head first into the water.

He feels a continuing flutter in his heart as he watches her shiver from the coldness of the water. Right, it was November after all - maybe not the best time for a swim but, she almost seemed like she was weirdly used to it.

Hayley warms up quickly and swishes around the water almost as if it's part of her.

"You're quite the talented swimmer, my darling," Kol compliments, joining her.

The water pushes them closer and closer to each other and his hand instinctively grazes against her cheek - her hair is wet and covering her eyes but, she can see just enough to understand that he's going for it.

He wants to kiss her.

"KOLLLL!!!"

Just then, they hear Henrik's scream.

He's afraid of water, Kol whispers, as he and Hayley swim towards him. "I'm such an idiot," he curses himself, swimming quicker. "I should've kept a better eye on him," he shouts, seeing the top of his brother's head peeking out of the waves.

Hayley swims faster than him, getting to Henrik first and lifting him up from his waist. She gives him a look, indicating that he was safe now, she was here, after all.

"Henrik!" Kol scolds, when he catches up to them. "What were you thinking? You know you could've drowned!" he shakes him back and forth, worriedly.

Hayley takes him back to the shore, covering him in a dry towel.

"I'm sorry brother," Henrik replies to Kol. "I just thought I could finally face my fear, ever since the incident that happened to Nik I -"

Kol furrows his brow - he remembers that day too, when Klaus almost drowned to death, how he was saved by some miracle. Or a mermaid, which is what Henrik claims.

He hates how his little brother still blames himself for that incident.

"Do you know how much you scared me?" Kol responds, still with a stressed out tone. Hayley is taken aback, she's never seen Kol like this. "Promise me you'll never go to the water alone, ever again?" He tells him

"But Kol -"

"Promise me!"

Henrik bites his lip, he looks at Hayley who also seemed worried about his well-being. "I-" he starts. "I promise," he finally agrees as a sense of relief washes over Kol's face.

Hayley is touched by how close both the youngest Mikaelson brothers seem to be.

xviii: maybe it will fix us if we spend our lives on country roads

Klaus' balcony is filled with his old paintings. He barely uses the space there for anything else but, it does offer him a good view of the beach. He pushes the painting aside, making his way towards the edge. He notices Hayley, Kol and Henrik right away. He keeps an eye on them.

He shouldn't feel this way, he shouldn't be so angry at the fact that they're friends. At the fact that their parents accept them.

At the fact that Mikael would never scold Kol for having a girl but Klaus, he's not even allowed to smile around him.

He feels frightened - Mikael's abuse scares him. He thinks of their fight, of the scar on his cheek, where Hayley had last touched him.

Mikael had mentioned how the scar had disappeared, he wonders how it happened so quickly.

Then.

Klaus' ringtone interrupts his thoughts.

Ansel.

He thinks about his offer once again.

Is leaving truly the best option for him? His family was his everything, he can't imagine living without Elijah's laugh, or Finn's smile, Kol's shenanigans, Rebekah's kindness, Henrik's clinginess, and now, Hayley's warmth -

He puts the idea to rest for now.

He goes back to staring at the beach.

#klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #to #tvd #kol mikaelson #koley #munea writes

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

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Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 5

Drunk Sad Boys and Katanas

It’s Roman’s birthday and Virgil has a gift for him.

Warnings: Alcohol use, mentions of genitalia, vomit

Chapter 4 | Masterlist | Chapter 6

Virgil sat up from his spot on the bathroom floor. It was early August now, 6 weeks since he met Princey and 2 days since their tour officially ended. The tour was a success, with nearly all of their concerts being fully booked. As soon as they got back they had one day to relax before their yearly tradition: Remus’ birthday. Remus refused to tell them the day of his actual birthday, only that it was in July. So they usually picked a random day in July where they had no plans. They would then proceed to get wasted, share some depressing and/or embarrassing shit about themselves, and have penis-shaped pancakes the next morning (Remus’ favorite). They weren’t actually able to celebrate it in July this year, since they didn’t think Thomas would appreciate them getting wasted while on tour. Virgil now sat there the next morning, trying to vaguely remember what embarrassing thing they confessed last night.

Janus had confessed that he was depressed and slightly suicidal before he met Virgil. “I was just takin’ a walk, thinkin’ ‘what if I just throw m’self off that cliff? Make those bast’rds find my *burb* body.’ Then YOU showed up outa NOWHERE, and then I was like ‘shit, I can’t die, pretty boy needs me.’”

Remus had confessed to having a twin. “He was Mr. Perfect, a jock with a 3.8 GPA and theatre nerd to boot. We had a fight right ‘fore I came out, he said ‘stop tryin’ ta be me!’ He went to a friends house while I came out to mom an’ pa. ‘You’re wrong,’ they said. ‘We have one son, not two!’ I left ‘fore he could go and ‘gree with ‘em. That’s why I don’t cel’brate on the day. He’s prob’ly sitting in their kitchen, the perf’ son with perf’ wife an’ kid with a big cake and no fuckup twin to ruin it.’

Virgil had confessed to having a crush on Patton, Logan and Roman. He blushed, remembering his word vomit- and literal vomit. “They’re all so goddamn cute. Pat texts me every few hours to make sure I’ve eaten. He makes puns and cookies and he’ll blabber on ‘bout the cutest little things. Lo’ll type a speech worth of stuff over jus’ ‘bout an’thin’. He uses r’lly big words, but he gets some wrong. He said that the number of stars ina sky are inf’itesimal, which realy means tiny. It was so damn cute. Then Princey! He has all these lil nicknames for me. He called me hot! What the fuck ‘m I s’posed to do? I’ll fuck it up like I always do and-” He then proceeded to vomit all over himself. Luckily, Virgil has multiple sets of clothes at Janus’ house.

Virgil eventually got up, going to make the aforementioned phallical flapjacks. Soon enough, everyone was sitting around the kitchen table with pancakes and headaches.

Bzzz

Virgil ignored his phone for the moment, going to clean up his dishes and get himself a fresh cup of coffee. He heard his phone go off two more times before he sat down. I wonder what they’re talking about this early in the morning.

P- (10:28 AM) Hey Ro? Are you gonna want the last slice of this Bday cake?

R- (10:28 AM) You can have it, Pattoncake. Though you shouldn’t be having cake for breakfast.

P- (10:28 AM) I know, but it’s SO GOOD!

Virgil nearly spat out his coffee. Birthday cake? Did one of them have a birthday and not tell me?

V- (10:29 AM) Who’s Bday was it?

L- (10:29 AM) July 28th was Roman’s Birthday.

R- (10:29 AM) Logan!

L- (10:30 AM) What? I was merely answering his question.

V- (10:30 AM) Why didn’t you tell me, Princey?

R- (10:31 AM) I’m sorry, storm cloud. You were busy traveling and I didn’t want to interrupt it. We don’t even celebrate it, really. It’s just cake and ice cream between the 3 of us.

P- (10:31 AM) And Presents!

R- (10:32 AM) And presents

Virgil bit his lip. Should he do this? Will it come off as too forward or creepy? Virgil sighed, sending his response before he could change his mind.

V- (10:33 AM) Name your gift. Anything you want

P- (10:34 AM) That’s not necessary, kiddo! But thanks for the offer!

R- (10:34 AM) A KATANA!

L- (10:34 AM) Roman, for the last time, you don’t need a katana.

R- (10:35 AM) Why?!? It would just be for decoration, I swear! Imagine: a stainless steel katana with a red and gold hilt, with the name PRINCE engraved into the metal. I would hang it above the mantle in the living room! It would be perfect!

Virgil looked up, Remus and Janus still eating. “Hey J, remember that favor you owe me?”

Janus looked up, looking perfectly calm and collected, even though his hangover was probably worse than Virgil’s. “Which one?”

“That time you groped a stranger, thinking it was Remus. You were too drunk to properly respond so I took the blame. And the ban from that club.”

He cringed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Ah, I remember now. What do you need?”

“How long would it take to get a stainless steel, custom made katana anonymously sent to a house around 20 minutes away from here?” Virgil had been surprised to find out that his new crushes lived in the same city as him. They didn’t know that, however. Actually, they hadn’t asked Virgil anything too invasive, usually sticking to hobbies and daily life. Virgil didn’t know how he felt about that.

Janus sighed, pulling out his phone. “Give me the details and address. I’ll see what I can do.”

Half an hour later, Janus told Virgil that it “would arrive at Prince Charming’s house in two weeks.” Virgil blushed at the nickname (so what if he’s fantasized Princey as Prince Charming? That’s none of J’s business) and pulled out his wallet. “If you attempt to pay me back I will personally remove your testicles.” Janus smirked, “Besides, you totally want to know how much it costs to order a katana.” Virgil sighed, pocketing his wallet. He pulled out his phone, deciding to leave it a surprise. He would also have to find a good apology gift for Logan and Patton.

V- (11:10 AM) I think I know what to get you now. It should arrive in 2 weeks. Happy Belated Birthday, Princey!

R- (11:11 AM) Ooh, what is it! I need to know, Marilyn Morose!

V- (11:11 AM) Not telling :)

And Virgil kept his word. Every day, Roman would ask what the surprise was, and every day, Virgil would refuse to answer. Two days before the katana was scheduled to arrive, Virgil called up the local confectioner and had them send Logan and Patton’s favorite chocolates to their house (dark chocolate-covered pomegranates for Logan, white chocolate-covered strawberries for Patton). When asked, Virgil had called them “Pre-apology sweets.” That only fueled Roman’s need to know what his belated gift was. Finally, the day arrived. It was a Saturday afternoon, so Roman would be at the theatre and Patton would be at the bakery. Virgil kept his phone glued to him all day, waiting for the inevitable Logan rant.

L- (2:32 PM) VIRGIL!

V- (2:32 PM) Yeah, Lolo?

L- (2:32 PM) HOW COULD YOU?

V- (2:33 PM) In my defense, I gave you pre-apology chocolates.

R- (2:33 PM) IS IT HERE?!!? WHAT IS IT??? I’M ON MY WAY HOME NOW

L- (2:34 PM) ROMAN NO

R- (2:34 PM) ROMAN YES

R- (2:40 PM) SQUEEEE [*Photo Attachment*]

Virgil opened the attachment, excited to see how the katana turned out. It was stainless steel; with a red, gold, and white hilt. Both the metal and the sheath showed the word PRINCEY. It turned out quite nicely, in Virgil’s opinion.

V- (2:41 PM) Happy Birthday, Princey

R- (2:41 PM) I LOVE IT! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

L- (2:42 PM) Roman, where are we gonna put a FREAKING KATANA?

V- (2:42 PM) Roman said you guys had space above the mantle.

R- (2:43 PM) Logan just made the Windows error sound. I’m kinda terrified

L- (2:43 PM) FLAMES! ON THE SIDES OF MY FACE!

Virgil laughed, flopping back onto his bed. He called the confectioner again (he’s pretty sure their name is Joan?) to order another set of apology sweets for Logan and Patton. Logan liked Crofters Jam, right? Maybe he’ll like the jam-filled pastries. Today was a good day.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #LAMP fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #texting fic

47 notes · View notes

chibistarlyte · 4 years ago

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tomorrow is another day

“I think you should see someone, Shouto. A professional. They can help you,” Rei says, and Shouto can hear the quiet confidence in her words. Words spoken from experience. Who would know about this kind of thing better than her, after all?

Shouto nods wordlessly, pulling back and finally looking at his mother. She smiles softly down at him, and tucks some of his disheveled hair away from his face. “Is it scary?” he asks, already feeling the trepidation at the possibility of sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with a complete stranger.

Rei nods slowly, her smile fading somewhat. “Yes. It can be scary, at first. And painful. Your emotions will be all over the place for a while. But…” she pauses, placing both her hands on Shouto’s cheeks to make sure she has his full attention. “Talking about this, working through it with someone who is trained to help people like you and me...it’s an important step to take so you can heal.”

here’s part 4 of my depressed!todo series with slowburn endgame todobaku. in this one, shouto talks things over with his mama and they decide together that he needs to seek professional help in the form of a therapist.

all my love and appreciation to kat @sunshineijirou for betaing this for me, and just generally being a wonderful human. ilysm friend!

you can read the fic under the cut or here on ao3! you can also find a masterlist of all my bnha fics here!

Shouto wakes to the smell of…breakfast?

It doesn’t smell like a Japanese breakfast with all the traditional fixings, but more like an American-style breakfast. The overwhelming aroma of bacon cooking in a skillet is what Shouto can pick out the easiest.

He blinks his eyes open, immediately squinting them shut again when bright sunlight stabs into his eyeballs. Shouto groans and pulls the blanket over his head—wait, blanket? He doesn’t remember having one of those before falling asleep.

Come to think of it, when did he fall asleep? He has no recollection of the end of the previous night. The last thing he can remember is listening to Midoriya laughing—his best friend squished next to him on the couch as the class watched a comedy film of some sort…

Shouto chances opening his eyes again in the relatively safe darkness beneath the blanket, and slowly creeps his head out to give himself a chance to adjust to the light.

He’s still on the couch, cuddled up in the same corner he’d been in last night, but now with a blanket that he doesn’t remember having when he’d dozed off.

And the smell of bacon is getting stronger. If Shouto listens closely enough, he can hear the sizzling of food in a skillet.

He stretches his arms out to loosen his muscles up, cramped from being squished against the arm and back cushions of the couch. He looks around the common room, a bit surprised to find himself alone. He would have thought at least some of his classmates would be up already—Iida immediately comes to mind, or Sero, or Shouji. Shouto remembers seeing them around in the early hours when he’s up before he wants to be.

Bakugou, as well, is an early riser.

Shouto turns his head enough to look over the back of the couch toward the common room kitchen, where he sees a familiar blond classmate standing in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand. Before Shouto is conscious of it, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

He lets out a bit of a strained noise as he rises from the couch, curling his toes against the floor as he stretches his legs out, muscles sore from being curled up on the couch all night. He grabs the blanket and wraps it around his shoulders like a cape, holding it closed with his fists at his collar bone, and slowly pads across the wooden floors to the kitchen.

Bakugou seems to notice his presence, because his head shoots up and red eyes glare at Shouto from the other side of the countertop that divides the kitchen from the rest of the common area.

“Get your rest, sleeping beauty?” the blond teases with a smirk, not waiting for Shouto to respond before turning his attention back to the contents cooking on the stove.

A blush heats up Shouto’s cheeks before he can even think to fight it down. “That’s...a new nickname. No ‘icyhot asshole’ or ‘half-n-half bastard’ today?” he asks, coming up to peer over the countertop and see what Bakugou’s got cooking in his skillets.

Bacon, eggs, sausage, shredded potatoes, pancakes...yeah, total American breakfast.

“I’m feeling extra nice today, don’t get used to it,” Bakugou says as he flips each of the pancakes expertly in their pan. They’re perfectly golden brown on the side that had just been cooking, and he’s poured them in such precise discs that Shouto thinks they belong in a food magazine.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Shouto says with a small, easy smile. He likes this, likes when he and Bakugou can talk like actual people—friends— without arguing about stupid things.

Bakugou looks up for just long enough to catch Shouto’s smile, then averts his gaze almost immediately and his face reddens considerably.

Must be the heat from the stove, Shouto thinks as he comes around the raised counter and goes over to the fridge. He pulls the door open wide, looking for some cartons of his strawberry yogurt drink.

“Oi, who the hell said you could come in here while I’m cooking, asshole?” Bakugou asks over his shoulder, glaring at Shouto once again.

“I’m not even in your vicinity,” Shouto says with his head still buried in the fridge, the hand not holding his blanket cape closed shoving aside various bottled drinks and leftover containers belonging to his classmates. He lets out a small noise of success when he spots his stash of drinks, all labeled “Todoroki’s—Do Not Touch <3” in Uraraka’s bubbly handwriting, and grabs one. When he closes the fridge, he looks up to see Bakugou plating his breakfast.

Shouto spots two plates on the counter next to the stove, and he tilts his head in confusion. “Who’s the second plate for?” he asks as he pokes the little plastic straw through the foil-covered hole on his drink carton. “Is Kirishima coming down to join you?”

Bakugou pauses, a spatula full of eggs halfway to the plate. “No, Shitty Hair is still sleeping,” he says, neither elaborating nor sparing Shouto a glance.

The blond continues to move food from the stove to the plates, distributing even portions between the two. Shouto just stands there and watches, sipping his yogurt drink and hoping Bakugou will clear up this mystery by explaining himself.

Bakugou digs through the drawer where the eating utensils are stored, pulling out a pair of forks and knives instead of chopsticks and setting them atop the plates. He picks up one plate in each hand and steps up to Shouto. Shouto watches as Bakugou takes a deep breath before lifting his head and staring resolutely up at Shouto.

“Here,” Bakugou says, holding out one of the plates to Shouto. “You’re going to see your mom or some shit today, right? You should eat something that’s not total ass crap before you go.”

Shouto stares wide-eyed at the offered plate, some strawberry yogurt dribbling out of the tip of the straw and down his bottom lip when his mouth opens in surprise.

“Well? You gonna take it or what, dickhead? I’m not gonna fucking stand here all day holding it for you,” Bakugou prompts, thrusting the plate forward. Shouto is forced to let go of his blanket to take the plate before his breakfast spills all over the floor. Instead, his blanket takes the hit, sliding off his shoulders and pooling around his feet on the floor.

“Holy shit, you’re a fucking disaster,” Bakugou sighs, leaning down to pick up Shouto’s blanket while still expertly holding his own plate without dropping a single morsel of food.

Shouto hastily uses his sleeve to wipe away the mess on his mouth, both of his hands occupied at the moment, then extends his arm out to Bakugou. Bakugou drapes the blanket over Shouto’s arm and shoves his way past the taller boy. He claims one of the tables closest to the kitchen, plopping down with an annoyed-sounding huff and digging into his breakfast without much ceremony after muttering a small, "itadakimasu."

Shouto stands there in the kitchen for a few moments, staring down at the plate heaped high with food in his hand. He bites the inside of his lip and his gaze shifts to Bakugou—well, Bakugou’s back, since the blond has chosen to sit facing away from Shouto.

What has Shouto ever done to deserve to be in Bakugou’s good graces? He almost doesn’t know how to reconcile this within himself, the worthiness it takes to be acknowledged by Bakugou.

Shouto blows out a shaky breath, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

He quietly pads over to the table Bakugou has chosen for himself, taking the seat directly across from the prickly boy. He gently sets his plate down and readjusts his blanket around his shoulders before he sits down.

Bakugou pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, cheek puffed out as he stops chewing just to watch Shouto with an unreadable expression.

“I hope you don’t mind my company,” Shouto says quietly, glancing up at Bakugou through his bi-colored bangs.

Bakugou watches him before letting out a sigh through his nose and finishes chewing what's in his mouth. “Do what you want, I don't fucking care,” he says dismissively before shoving another forkful of food into his mouth.

The two eat in silence after that. It isn't an uncomfortable silence, just a little tense. Not because of any negative feelings shared between the two of them, but because Shouto feels like he should say something but he doesn't know what.

There are a lot of things he wants to say to Bakugou, namely to thank him for cooking breakfast—which is delicious, as expected from the perfectionist boy—but…ever since last week, when Shouto was in the deepest part of his depression downswing, Bakugou had been…extremely…present? Like, everywhere Shouto would turn, the other boy was there, even if they weren't directly engaging with each other.

Shouto doesn't know if Bakugou truly is around more, or if he's just…more aware of him now. Either one is a vexing concept to Shouto.

"Thank you, Bakugou," Shouto finally says, moving his eggs around the plate with his fork. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."

Bakugou makes an indecipherable noise in response, something that's a mix of a grunt and a whine. "Yeah, yeah, don't get used to it. I just had to cook all this shit before it fuckin' expired."

Shouto cracks a smile, somehow finding Bakugou’s deflection of his gratitude…endearing. "Right…" he says, agreeing aloud but Bakugou doesn't have him entirely convinced.

They finish their breakfast without any more words exchanged, and Shouto drops his blanket around Bakugou’s shoulders when he leaves the room to head for the elevators. He smiles to himself when Bakugou lets out an indignant yell and throws the blanket back at Shouto, missing him by a mile.

Shouto knocks softly before he opens the door to his mother's room.

"Oh, Shouto!" Rei greets her son, setting down her watering can and coming over to him as he closes the door behind him.

“Hi, okaasan,” Shouto says, hesitating before slowly reaching out and pulling his mother into a hug. Rei’s arms come up under his armpits and rest on his back, and she places her head against his shoulder.

“You’ve grown again, haven’t you?” Rei asks, pulling away to look up at Shouto’s face. She places a gentle hand against his right cheek, her thumb rubbing the soft patch of skin beneath his eye.

“Maybe another centimeter…” Shouto says quietly, infinitesimally leaning into his mother’s touch.

“Well, come and sit, your sister brought me some green tea cookies yesterday, you should have some,” Rei says, leading Shouto to sit on one of the chairs by the window.

What a blessed day, Shouto thinks, to have Bakugou’s cooking in the morning and Fuyumi’s baked goods now. The one thing he misses the most from home is his sister’s cooking, which he’s been deprived of since living in the dorms.

“I might sneak some back with me to the dorms,” Shouto says as he takes a seat. Rei sits on her bed across from Shouto, retrieving a large box full of cookies from her side table. She holds the box out to Shouto and he takes it gratefully, gently opening the lid and taking out a few cookies to nibble on.

“How is neesan?” he asks quietly, holding one of the cookies close to his mouth but not taking a bite just yet. “I haven’t spoken to her much this week.”

And that’s definitely an understatement, Shouto mentally chides himself. Not only has he not spoken to either of his siblings in over a week, he hasn’t even seen his mother in two weeks.

He doesn’t want her to know that the reason he skipped out last week is because he had no will to live.

“She’s doing fine,” Rei says with a light smile. “She tells me her class is going on a field trip to the aquarium next week. Her students are thrilled.”

“That does sound fun,” Shouto agrees with a nod, nibbling at the cookie. He still doesn’t make eye contact with his mother. “And Natsu-nii? How is he?”

“Natsu is fine, too,” Rei answers, her smile fading somewhat. “He came to see me a few days ago after his midterms were finished.”

Shouto hums, not really knowing what else to say at the moment. He retreats into himself a little, his mind berating him.

It’s your fault you haven’t talked to your brother and sister this week. You’re so selfish. You should have at least texted them, instead of moping like a miserable little weakling.

You can’t always expect them to reach out first.

They don’t even like you that much.

Shouto sighs, shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Maybe if he concentrates on chewing, he can drown out the bad thoughts.

You didn’t even visit your mother.

You’ve disappointed her yet again.

When Shouto swallows his cookie, it feels like sandpaper in his throat.

“Shouto...is...is something wrong?” Rei asks, breaking the ice that seems to have chilled the room. Shouto finally dares to look up at her and sees the worried expression on her usually serene face.

“N-No, I mean...yeah…no...maybe? I don’t know,” he stumbles over his words in a way that is very uncharacteristic of him. He rubs a hand down his face and sighs. “Okaasan, I...do you ever just...feel...empty? Like you have nothing inside of you, and you exist outside of your own body?”

Rei seems taken aback by his question, which makes Shouto clam up immediately. He hunches over in his chair, crossing his ankles and staring at the floor to avoid making eye contact. “S-Sorry, forget I asked, it’s nothing—”

“I do, sometimes,” Rei answers softly, interrupting her son’s attempts at backpedaling. “I used to feel it a lot more back when...everything happened. It’s not as bad now.”

Shouto lifts his head just enough to peek at his mother through his dual-colored bangs hanging in front of his eyes.

“My doctors have told me that dissociation—the out-of-body sensation—is a trauma response,” Rei continues in a gentle voice. “In order to protect ourselves, our minds can shut down and force us out, so that we don’t have to face or acknowledge our emotions or...what’s really going on around us.”

Shouto’s breath hitches.

“Have you been feeling this way lately, Shouto?” Rei then asks, serious and soft, with no judgment in her eyes.

Shouto silently nods, begging his eyes to cooperate and not allow his tears to fall.

“Is that why you didn’t come see me last week? And why you haven’t talked with Fuyumi or Natsuo?”

Shouto nods again, sniffing and wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “I feel like...I don’t know, like...I don’t deserve to? To see you, to talk with neesan and Natsu-nii. I keep having...thoughts…”

“What thoughts?”

God, Shouto shouldn’t be saying any of this. He shouldn’t be saying any of this to his mentally ill mother. What if he triggers her by talking about all these ugly feelings inside of him? What if, by giving these thoughts a voice, they turn out to be true? What if—

“What thoughts are you having, Shouto?” Rei asks more insistently, though her voice is still quiet and calm. Comforting. Soothing in a way that Shouto doesn’t feel like he deserves from her.

“I…”

It’s then that Shouto breaks completely. He drops his uneaten cookies to the floor and hides his face in his hands as he quietly cries, trying not to make a sound because if he does, then his father will hear and—

No.

Endeavor isn’t here. Endeavor is far, far away from here.

It’s just him. Just him and his mother.

His mother.

His mother...who burned him because he looks too much like his father.

His mother, whose life he ruined just by existing.

“Shouto…”

Shouto barely registers Rei coming over to him and pulling him into a hug, his head against her stomach. He just cries and cries and cries, as silently as he can manage, while Rei runs her delicate fingers through his hair in a small attempt at comfort.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m so sorry, okaasan…” Shouto chokes out, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can catch them. “I’m no good...I can’t...I just…”

Rei just holds her son, soothing noises brushing through her lips as she combs her fingers through his hair, rubs her hand up and down his back in a comforting manner. Shouto gasps and heaves as he sobs, and eventually, he runs out of tears to shed.

When he’s quieted down, Rei only pulls away enough that she can tilt Shouto’s head up to look him in the eye. But he averts his gaze, won’t meet her eyes. Her thumb catches some of the stray tears crawling down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, okaasan,” he whispers, his voice breathless and shaky. “Sometimes, it’s...everything is just too much and I…”

Rei waits patiently for him to continue.

“I just...want to die…” Shouto says so quietly he isn’t sure if he actually spoke at all. But his mother pulling him into another hug is all the confirmation he needs that she has heard him loud and clear.

“Shouto...do you have anyone you can talk to about these feelings? A friend, a teacher, a counselor? Someone?” Rei asks. Shouto shakes his head, buries his face in the soft material of her sweater vest.

But that’s a lie, Shouto thinks. He does have people he can talk to. Midoriya, Yaoyorozu, Iida, Uraraka, Kirishima…

Bakugou.

“I really worried all my friends last week,” Shouto says, his voice muffled by Rei’s sweater vest. “I...wasn’t myself and I...I tried to hurt myself. I did hurt myself,” he admits, feeling the guilt and shame bleed into his veins once again, as if they had never really left in the first place.

Rei hums to assure him that she’s listening, and Shouto is grateful for his mother’s supportive presence, even if she isn’t saying anything at the moment. He knows this must be a lot for her, to hear that one of her children feels so awful about himself to want to…

“Heal…” Shouto echoes, averting his gaze.

“You have so much pain inside your heart. I see it, Shouto. I see it in you, in Fuyumi, in Natsuo. I see it in myself every time I look in the mirror. But you can move past it. You can learn to cope with it in healthy ways. You’re strong...you’re too strong to give up.” Rei slowly drops her hands from Shouto’s face, only to take his hands that have been tightly wound in his lap. “I know you can do this.”

Shouto nods hesitantly, unclenching his fingers and letting his mother twine hers in his. His hands ache, his right hand covered in frost and his left hot and sweaty.

But he holds onto Rei’s hands like his life depends on it, and looks her in the eye once more.

“What do I need to do?”

Shouto returns to the dorms much later than he anticipates. After talking at length with his mother about his depressive episode from a week ago and the intrusive thoughts that plague both his waking and his sleeping hours, they’ve come up with a tentative plan. Shouto is to speak to Aizawa-sensei about seeing a UA-employed counselor. He has a soft deadline of sorts to complete this task—Rei had told him that she hopes he'll talk to his homeroom teacher by the time he comes to see her next week.

Shouto sighs, slipping his shoes off by the front door of the dorm building. He passes by some of his classmates on his way to the elevators, actually stopping to say a quick hello to Jirou and Kaminari who are sitting on the couches with their guitars. Tokoyami is also in the common area, at a table reading a book while Dark Shadow flits around and keeps watching for something outside. He waves to them both before he makes it to the elevator.

When he gets inside, he punches the button for the fourth floor.

For some reason, Shouto feels an unwavering need to see Bakugou.

The elevator pings and the doors slide open, and Shouto marches to Bakugou’s door with a grim but determined expression.

When he knocks on Bakugou’s door, his knocking is quiet and concise with only three raps of his knuckles on the door.

It takes a minute, but Bakugou eventually opens the door and scowls at Shouto. "What," he says, not even a question.

"Can I come in?" Shouto asks almost shyly, opening his bag and pulling out a small plastic container of Fuyumi's cookies his mother had given him to bring back. "I...have these for you."

To Shouto’s surprise, Bakugou doesn't turn him away and actually backs up into the room, opening his door wider to allow Shouto passage. "What, you wanted to pay me back for cooking you breakfast this morning?"

Shouto blinks, looking at Bakugou as if the blond had just grown another head. Did...did he just admit to cooking Shouto breakfast?

"Sort of," Shouto says quickly, opening the container and pulling out a cookie. "My sister made these, and I remember how much you liked her cooking when...uh, when you and Midoriya came over for dinner at my house that one time…"

"What is it?" Bakugou asks, taking the cookie from Shouto and examining it closely, even sniffing it to determine its ingredients.

"Green tea cookie," Shouto says, watching Bakugou take a bite. Shouto smiles when Bakugou’s expression changes to something between being pleased and impressed, and the boy shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

"Not bad," Bakugou says, looking at the crumbs stuck to his palm before looking around the room for something to wipe them off with. He spots a small towel sitting at the top of his gym bag by the bed, going to grab it and wipe his hand with it. "Might have to snag the recipe from her."

"I can text her and ask for it," Shouto offers, waiting until Bakugou is finished cleaning his hands before handing the closed container to him. "And...you can have the rest of these. I brought them for you, specifically."

Bakugou looks surprised for about a split second before he smirks, taking the container. "You…sure you don’t want any for yourself? Seems fucking stupid to give them all to me when your sister made them."

Shouto can feel his face heating up and he has to keep a lid on his Quirk before he lights himself on fire. Since when has his Quirk been so hard to control? And for that matter, Bakugou hasn’t said anything remotely close to embarrassing. Why is Shouto feeling so flustered?

"It’s okay, I had plenty while I was with my mother," Shouto says, clenching his hands into fists now that he doesn't have the cookie container to fiddle with. "I…also just…wanted to see you, I guess."

"What the fuck? Why?" Bakugou says, and to Shouto’s shock, he doesn't sound angry at all. Just…confused.

About as confused as Shouto feels at the moment.

“I don’t know…maybe…” Shouto rubs his hand over his face, slicking his hair back for just a moment before it falls back into his face and covers most of his vision. “I…had a talk with my mother…about, you know, last week.”

Bakugou seems to stop breathing as soon as Shouto mentions last week, eyeing the half-n-half boy with trepidation.

“Um…can I…sit?” Shouto asks, curling his toes against the rug.

“…Sure,” Bakugou replies hesitantly, gesturing in the general direction of the bed. He himself goes over to his desk, setting the cookie container next to an organized stack of textbooks and notebooks. He pulls his chair out and sits down, straddling the seat and propping his arms on the seatback. Finally, he rests his chin on his arms and watches Shouto curiously.

Shouto just sits on the floor, cross-legged, tucking his feet under himself as far as he can.

“You could sit on the bed, you fucking dingus,” Bakugou says. “It’s not like you haven’t been in it before.”

It takes about a millisecond before both boys register what had just come out of Bakugou’s mouth, and both their faces turn red as tomatoes at the implications.

“Uh…anyway,” Shouto clears his throat, and sets his hands in his lap, joining his fingers and twiddling his thumbs in his nervousness. “I…I don’t know why I wanted to tell you specifically all of this, but I felt like you deserved to know since. Well. You helped me so much, when I needed it the most. Which I still can’t thank you enough for, by the way,” Shouto says, looking up at Bakugou and offering him a tiny but grateful smile.

Bakugou squints his eyes at Shouto before he looks away, cheeks still adorably red. He scratches at the back of his neck. “Tch…whatever, no need to thank me. Literally anyone else would have done the same thing if they were the ones watching you jump off your fucking balcony.”

Shouto’s smile turns a little sad, then, and he looks down at the floor. “I’m…sorry. That must have been frightening to deal with.”

A long silence settles between them, then, a silence that weighs heavily in the air with all the things unspoken between them.

“What I wanted to say…” Shouto begins, buckling under the pressure of the silence, “is that…my mother made me promise to talk to Aizawa-sensei about seeing a therapist. One here at school.”

Bakugou watches him warily, raising an eyebrow in question.

“And, uh,” Shouto swallows before continuing, “I…was hoping you could…come with me to talk to him? Since you were there when I jumped.”

The request takes Bakugou by surprise, if his openly shocked expression is anything to go by. Shouto doesn’t think he’s ever seen the boy’s eyes so wide.

“Sorry, I know it’s a lot to ask—” Shouto says, but his words get cut off by Bakugou’s somewhat indignant response.

“Don’t you have other friends that can go with you for ‘moral support’ or whatever shit this is about? I’m sure fucking Deku would be thrilled to help you, since he has such a bleeding heart for every person on the goddamn planet.”

“That’s not the point,” Shouto says, taking a deep breath to speak again before being cut off by Bakugou once more.

“Then what about Four Eyes? He’s always tryin’ to take responsibility as class prez or whatever, or fuck, even Round Face, she’s so fucking happy and bubbly all the time—she’d be good for that. Or, like, Ponytail? What about her? Aren’t you bougie BFFs or some shit?” Bakugou sounds borderline hysteric at this point, listing off Shouto’s other friends as people much better suited for this task than himself.

But…

“But they’re not you,” Shouto says simply, staring at Bakugou with nothing but sincerity in his eyes, his expression. “I want you to go with me, Bakugou. No one else.”

Bakugou ducks his head behind the back of the chair and breathes out a deep breath through his nose.

Shouto bites at the inside of his lip. This is a mistake. A very big mistake. Yet he can’t find it in himself to take the words back. He means it—he wants Bakugou there with him when he has possibly one of the most important conversations of his life. “You…if you really don’t want to, then you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you into anything, Bakugou.”

Bakugou tilts his head up just enough to peek at Shouto over the top of his arms. He remains silent, but his expression is thunderous. From what Shouto can see of it, anyway.

“Just…think about it? And let me know what you decide,” Shouto says. He waits a few moments for Bakugou to say something, but when no more words come out of that foul mouth of his, that Shouto for some reason finds endearing, he sighs. He pulls himself up off the floor and adjusts his bag to sit correctly on his shoulders. “Sorry for bothering you. Enjoy the cookies.”

Shouto ignores the snort Bakugou gives him in response, making his way over to the door. He opens it to leave, but pauses, looking back over his shoulder at Bakugou. The blond is still sitting in his chair, glaring daggers at the floor, his eyebrows creased so far down that Shouto’s surprised they don’t permanently stick like that.

Sighing one more time, Shouto exits the room and clicks the door softly closed behind him. He’s tired, and needs to get things ready for school tomorrow, so he heads up to his own room feeling much heavier than he did when he arrived back at the dorms.

It isn’t until a couple hours later, as Shouto is laying out his futon for bed, that his phone chimes with an incoming message.

He goes over to his desk and picks up his phone, opening up the text messaging app with a few taps of his thumb. His eyes widen when he sees who the text is from.

“Bakugou?” Shouto says aloud, clicking on the conversation to read the message.

fine, i’ll go with u. but we’re talking to aizawa-sensei after school tomorrow. i’m not letting u put this shit off, got it?

Shouto smiles as he types back a quick response.

got it. thank you, bakugou

yeah, yeah, whatever, shut the fuck up.

see u tomorrow in class

His smile grows a little wider, and Shouto has to hide his mouth behind his hand to keep from letting out a small laugh.

yeah...see you tomorrow

#todobaku #todobaku fic #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #my writing

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