#this took a lot longer than i thought it would.........

[mmso-notlikethat]

Buck found out by accident.

It had been months since he’d last thought about calling Tommy—months since he stopped himself from scrolling through their old texts, staring at the little gray bubbles that no longer filled with words. Buck had told himself Tommy didn’t want to hear from him, that he was respecting the boundaries of a breakup.

But when the call came, everything Buck thought he knew shattered.

“This is the 217 captain,” the voice said, clipped and strained. “I thought you should know… Tommy Kinard’s been in a coma for the past three months.”

The words barely registered at first. Buck’s stomach dropped, his ears ringing. “What? A coma? What—how?”

The captain sighed on the other end of the line, explaining in halting sentences. An accident on a call. A head injury. No emergency contact listed. “I’ve been handling his medical decisions, but… I figured it was time someone who knew him better stepped in.”

Buck didn’t remember hanging up or getting in his truck. He only remembered sitting at Tommy’s bedside hours later, staring at the motionless figure he barely recognized. Tommy was thinner, his face pale and hollowed, the sharp edges of his cheekbones more pronounced. His hand, resting limply on the bed, felt cold when Buck hesitantly took it in his own.

At first, Buck visited every day. He brought books, even though Tommy couldn’t hear him, and flowers, even though Tommy couldn’t see them. He sat by the bed, rambling about the firehouse, about Maddie, about anything and everything just to fill the silence.

He told himself Tommy would wake up soon, that this was temporary.

But days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Life pressed on, relentless. The firehouse needed him. Maddie and Jee-Yun and his new niece.

One day turned into two, then a week, then two weeks. The visits came less often, the guilt creeping in every time Buck walked past the untouched vase of wilted flowers he’d brought the last time.

Ten years passed.

Buck had a new life now. He adopted Alex, a quiet little boy who had turned his world upside down in the best way. Alex was six now, a ball of energy and curiosity, and Buck loved him fiercely. But there was always something missing—a hollow ache that never went away. A piece of him still sat in that hospital room, holding Tommy’s hand, waiting for him to wake up.

When the call came, Buck didn’t know what to feel.

“This is Dr. Omar,” the voice said, calm but cautious. “I’ve been reviewing Mr. Kinard’s case, and I believe there’s something we missed. He isn’t in a full coma—he’s in a minimally conscious state. There’s activity there, more than we originally thought. With the right stimulation and therapy, there’s a chance he could wake up.”

Buck sat frozen, the words sinking in slowly. His breath caught, his chest tightening. “He’s been… he’s been aware?” he finally managed to say, his voice cracking.

“It’s possible,” Dr. Omar said gently. “Not fully, but enough to respond to certain stimuli. It’s risky, and it won’t happen overnight, but…”

“I’ll be there,” Buck interrupted, his voice trembling. “Just… start whatever you need to. I’ll be there.”

-

The hospital room felt too small when Buck walked in. His heart pounded as his eyes landed on Tommy, propped up in the hospital bed, looking pale and frail but awake. Awake.

Tommy’s gaze lifted slowly, and their eyes met. Buck froze, caught between relief and something heavier, sharper. He tried to speak, but the words tangled in his throat.

Tommy broke the silence first, his voice hoarse. “Alex,” he said softly, his lips quirking in the faintest of smiles. “How’s Alex?”

Buck’s breath hitched. He blinked, shaking his head. “Alex?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tommy nodded weakly. “Your kid. You… you used to talk about him. A lot.”

The weight of Tommy’s words hit Buck like a punch to the chest. The reality of it—the fact that Tommy knew, that he’d been aware—sank in all at once. His knees nearly buckled, and he stumbled forward, gripping the side of the bed for support.

“I stopped coming,” Buck said, his voice cracking. “Tommy, I—I stopped coming. I thought… I thought you’d never know. I thought—” He cut himself off, his face crumpling as guilt bled into every word. “I’m so sorry.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed, and he shifted slightly, wincing at the effort. “Evan…” he stopped, his face shifting into something like a smile, sad and fragile. “It’s fine. You didn’t owe me anything.”

[pacofprunes]

OPERATION, SMILE: GUYS LIKE FLOWERS TOO!

daeho x reader, daeho has been having a hard time since the games. you force him to go out and breathe a little and have a “little” gift for him.

ever since daeho had come back from those games he told you about, he doesn’t want to leave his house. he was so happy to be back near you again and to have you with him, but the trauma made him push everyone out and pack himself up in his room. you’d been dropping him off food and he always made sure to thank you but you couldn’t let him destroy himself like this. not any longer. you missed seeing his bright smile and receiving his tight hugs, you were going to get daeho back.

daeho had been ignoring texts, refusing to pick up his phone. but when you called and he saw your name on the phone, he couldn’t ignore it. you knew that, so you send a call his way. it was on the very last ring that he finally picked up the phone. you speak first.

“baby?”

he does a simple hum in response. you huff and decide to just force him to go out.

“we’re going out tonight, okay? the coffee shop right across from my place, alright? love you!”

he goes to speak but you quickly cut him off by hanging up the phone. he would never stand you up, you knew that. he debated on just texting you that he couldn’t go, but he decided he’d push through for you. you sounded so happy on the phone, he couldn’t shut you down.

you put your phone on the table side and smile proudly. you knew he could easily text you no, but you chose to ignore that. you go into your closet, already knowing what you were gonna choose and put on a simple white spring dress. sure it would be night, but it would still be somewhat warm, you’d push through for daeho. you don’t do much with your hair, styling it simple before you stuff your phone in your purse, grab some money, put on your shoes, and run out your house with excitement to the next part of your operation.

you entered the flower shops doors, the bell ringing as you step in. a women greets you.

“hi, how are you?”

“good! i’m looking for a huge bouquet of flowers. like, seriously. the absolute biggest that you have.”

she smiles at you, asking you a few questions about why you need such a big bouquet, and you gladly answer. the bouquet was bigger than your head, and honestly kind of hard to carry and was very expensive. but it was worth it. you wanted to hide the flowers from daeho so you decide to arrive kind of early to the coffee shop, finding a seat and placing the flowers under the table. as time goes on waiting for him, you pray he shows up. you didn’t think he’d stand you up, but then again, he was different now. you take a deep breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts, putting your faith in him. you pull out your phone to make sure he didn’t text you cancelling, thankfully he didn’t. you get a glass of water and hold it tightly in your hands with anticipation.

after what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the coffee shops doors open and he walks through. he finally looked a little put together since the whole ordeal and your eyes immediately light up at the sight. you quickly stand up once he notices you and he walks towards your table and you pull him into a tight hug. he stands there, slightly shocked before wrapping his arms around you, slowly reciprocating. he pulls away and looks you in the eyes.

“you look pretty.”

you smile back at him shyly.

“and you look handsome.”

you run a hand through his hair before pressing a small kiss to the corner of his lip and signaling for him to sit at the table, hoping he doesn’t kick the bouquet as he sits. the food and the drinks were already on the table, you knew what he liked, so you had it all ready for him. he took a bite of the food as you two sat in silence. you were gonna speak but he decided to first.

“i appreciate this a lot. i know i haven’t been the best to you lately..”

you reach across the table and grab his hand, rubbing a thumb his fingers.

“you don’t need to apologize. i just want you to at least feel a little better.”

he looks up at you and gives you a light smile.

“i do feel better. it feels nice to go out again, especially like this. it felt like i was going on a first date with you again, i was freaking out a little bit.”

he rubs the back of his neck with his other hand and you laugh.

“well i’m glad you feel better. it’s nice to see you like this too.”

you take your hand off of his and start eating your food, having small conversations with him. you wanted to cry happy tears, it was so nice to have things like this again. finally having conversations with him again, getting to see him care about himself, seeing him care about you.

“i can pay.”

you scoff at him.

“well, i already paid, so try again!”

he frowns at you.

“i have the money, baby, let me pay you back.”

he goes to reach for his pocket but you practically jump over the table and smack his hand before sitting back down.

“i’m not taking your money. if you secretly give it to me somehow, i’m going to lock it away and never ever use it even if i really need it.”

he furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head before laughing. saying you’re ridiculous and then you start laughing as well. you two finally finish everything and he stands up, reaching a hand out to you to help you up. you go to accept it but you pull back, causing him to have a worried look on his face, asking what was wrong.

“you go out first! and when the coffee shop doors open don’t turn around to face me, okay? i have something you can’t see.”

he still looks confused, but he nods before walking outside. you wait until he’s fully out the door and you see him standing by a bench. that’s when you reach under the table and pick up the bouquet and stand up. you struggle to see where you’re going but you yell a thank you to an employee before walking out the door and going right behind daeho, almost dropping the flowers.

“okay, you can turn around now.”

he jumps as he hadn’t realized you were behind him, lightly laughing at himself before he turns around, stunned.

“do you like them?”

you peek your head out from behind the bouquet, consisting of shades of reds and pink flowers with few white roses sprinkled in, wrapped in a white and gray-ish blue paper.

“wow…”

he slowly grabs the bouquet out of your hands before you play with your fingers, nerves getting the best of you as you hope that he likes them. he just stares at them before you realize there’s tears starting to roll down his cheeks, causing you to frown at him, cupping his face in one of your hands, he pulls you into a side hug as to not crush the flowers, mumbling a very broken up thank you, as if he was holding in a sob. he places the bouquet on the bench next to you two and cups your face in his hands now before pulling you into a deep kiss. it lasted a long time too. his tears slipping onto your lips, him kissing you like you were his last breath before pulling away, more tears slipping out.

“thank you so much, i don’t even know what i can say, baby—”

you pull him into a tight hug, rubbing his back.

“you don’t need to thank me.”

he squeezes you tighter before moving his hand up to your head and rubbing his fingers through your hair.

“i swear i’ll be better. i love you so much.”

you pull away and cup his face, looking intensely into his eyes.

“i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be there with you every step of the way, my love.”

he smiles at you and presses a kiss to your forehead before picking up the bouquet and walking with you home, an arm over your shoulder the whole walk in a comfortable silence before he speaks.

“do you— do you wanna stay over tonight?”

you stop in your tracks, causing him to almost trip over his feet and you laugh. you used to stay over all the time with him, it’d been forever since he asked you that question, and you were absolutely thrilled.

“i’d love to.”

[entitled-fangirl]

Billionaire Brucie.

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: Moving into Wayne Manor is an adjustment the two have to manage- spending Bruce's money being one of them. She refuses to spend more than absolutely necessary. He throws it around like confetti.

Masterlist

............................................

Y/n walked through the grocery store, her eyes scanning for the next thing on her shopping list. She adjusted the basket handles in the crook of her arm. 'Where…?' She mouthed. She finally found the aisle she was looking for and took off in the direction.

After moving in to Wayne Manor (finally), she'd barely mentioned wanting to go grocery shopping before Bruce held his credit card between his fingers. 

She was now at the second store, running in to grab the few things she couldn't find at the last one.

Bruce had gotten the notification for the transaction at the first store, and he'd immediately stood, stretched, and grabbed his coat.

His sweet girl was so hesitant to spend his money.

She reached up, reaching for Bruce's favorite protein powder. She felt a sudden presence far too close to her and a veiny arm came around her. "Was thinking about trying a new brand."

Oh. She knew that arm. "Bruce?"

His breath fanned over the back of her neck, his other hand tugging playfully at her ponytail to get her to look up at him. Their eyes meet. "Hi, sweetheart."

He kisses her, using it as a distraction as he pulls the basket from her arm. No need for her to carry that around while he's there. "Finding what you want?"

She sighs, savoring the kiss for just a moment longer. "About."

"Is that so? Hard to get everything you want when you've only spent $35. And you're getting my things too? Sweetheart."

"I'm just moving in, not completely restocking the pantry."

He gave her a knowing look. "But I know you'd like more than," he peeked into the basket, "cheap deli turkey and chocolate muffins."

"Hey, these chocolate muffins got me through college," she reprimands. "Besides, I'm one person. I can't eat $100 worth of snacks in a week."

His head tilted in a confused manner.

Realization dawned on her. "I'm like… half your body weight, Bruce. I don't have," she did a grand gesture over his torso, "outrageous muscle mass to keep up with."

"No, you eat like a bird," he grumbled. "Which is why I'm getting you anything you want. I'm paying, baby. Why are you so hesitant?"

"Why the interrogation?" She questions, moving down the aisle- knowing he'd obviously keep up.

"I have billions, Y/n. You're buying Hillshire Farm's cheap deli meat when I could buy a whole turkey farm for you. I just don't get it. Like that dress last week-"

"-Do not bring up the dress."

It wasn't like in the movies where a dress in the window catches your eye, but she had hesitated passing one of the stores in the mall. Bruce then shoved her inside, disregarding her assurances that she didn't need new clothing.

The thrice repaired coat in her closet said differently.

Bruce had politely waved off the saleswoman and perused the racks like any good boyfriend would do, careful to spot any pieces that would look striking on his girl. Y/n, refusing to touch the racks, peered around him when he'd shuffle through some of the hangers.

"What about silk?"

"I'm bringing up the dress," he reasoned.

"You know what?" She huffed. "I don't need this. I don't need anything in that basket you're holding. Not really. So, I'm gonna go if you're gonna keep being up my ass about what I buy. I just thought doing my own shopping would be nice." She moved past Bruce, shoulder checking him. Then, of course, wincing cause he was as firm as a brick wall.

She had driven back to the Manor in a frustrated manner, slamming the door to their bedroom when she'd arrived. 

Now's a good time to empty some of these boxes. 

She sorted through her clothes, taking careful time to hang them up. They'd been through a lot and she'd be damned if their unfortunate end happened from a hanger. 

Opening the closet, she saw the damn dress again, only rehashing her frustration with Bruce.

"It can be whatever color you want, sweetheart. I'm hosting the damn thing, after all. You want a red dress? I'll make the theme red."

"But the theme is green. And in two days."

He shrugged. "Pick an odd color. Make me work for it."

"I'm not… just…" her words trailed off as an associate walked by with the prettiest white gold dress she'd ever seen.

The one in her closet right now.

It was striking. An absolute vision on and off the hanger. She felt unworthy of even being seen in the same room as it. 

But with one little wave of his hand, Bruce had sent her and the dress off to a fitting room.

She emerged with it on, and she was practically glowing in it. She looked unsure, her smile not quite reaching her lips.

"Isn't she just a vision?" the saleswoman grinned at Bruce.

"Always," he muttered in her direction, his eyes not leaving his girl. "Give me a spin, baby." She did so, and he ran a hand over his jaw to keep his thoughts in. "Give us a minute, will you?"

Before the woman was even gone, Bruce closed the distance. "What's wrong?" He purred. "You not like it?" He spun her around to the mirror, bending to place his chin on her shoulder. "Do you not see how gorgeous you are?"

"It's just… the price," she muttered, her cheeks red at her admission.

"The price," he voice drew out, like he didn't understand. "The price," he said again, finally comprehending it- like it was such a foreign concept. "Do you like it?"

"I do." She ran a hand over her torso, smoothing the fabric out as she admired it in the mirror.

"What do you like about it? Tell me."

"The… the color is nice. I think it goes well with my skin."

"Mm hm," he acknowledged. 

"And the length is already right for me. That's helpful. The slit is a little high."

"That's my favorite part," he grinned against her ear. 

"And the top is snug," she continued, completely ignoring his flirty comment. "It fits nice. It's secure. I like the sleeve situation. It just… it's really nice."

"It is," he agreed. He gently guides her hair out of her face, kissing her shoulder gently. 

"So… at least I know what I like now at least. For… future stores. You know?"

And when she had left to use the restroom later, he journeyed back into that store and had the dress shipped to the Manor.

She put on her headphones, just needing to drown out everything. And eventually, the day turned to night and the boxes were unpacked. Most of them, at least.

With a rumble of her stomach, she elected to go to the kitchen- she'd at least gotten a few snacks at the first grocery store. She would be more than fine.

But upon entering the kitchen, an assortment of all her favorite snacks- ranging from the energy drinks Bruce told her to lay off of, those fucking chocolate muffins, and the healthy granola bars she made all the boys eat- was laid out across the counter in a pretty manner. A small note beside it: 

I'd give you the world and more, pretty girl. -Your Bruce.  P.S. This didn't break the bank, by the way. So, go to bed tonight peacefully for once. And have pleasant dreams (about me). I'll be home after patrol.

He was infuriating. But staying mad at him with those muffins staring back at her was hard. She'd forgive him. This time.

...............................................................

[vunblr]

Toy Soldier (part 4)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Canon-Typical Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims)

Word Count: 6k.

Previous Chapter

Bucky’s arms tightened just slightly around her as she shifted, sensing her weight tilting as though preparing to pull away.

“Don’t,” he murmured, stopping her movement. His forehead still rested against her shoulder, and his words sounded almost muffled. “Just... stay like this a little longer. Please.”

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do or say, but then she felt it, the subtle way he leaned into her like he was holding onto something he needed, like a child with his blanket.

“Okay,” she murmured, softly.

Her hands, which had started to pull back, returned to their place on his shoulders. She let them rest there, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her touch, and stayed still, giving him whatever comfort he was seeking.

He exhaled slowly, a sound that felt almost like a sigh of relief, and his body seemed to relax further.

“It’s been a long time,” he admitted after a moment, so quiet she almost missed it. “Since anything... felt this way.”

She swallowed hard, curling her fingers slightly against his shoulder in a gesture she hoped was reassuring. “What way?”

“Safe,” he murmured. “Less… alone.”

Her chest tightened at his words. “You’re not,” she said softly, with a trembling voice. “Not anymore.”

He shifted slightly, settling his vibranium arm more securely around her waist. The movement was almost instinctive, but it was enough to make her cheeks heat.

For a while, neither of them moved or spoke.

They stayed like that for a moment longer. He hadn’t fully let her go yet, and his hands still rested lightly against her back. She hesitated, feeling the warm rhythm of his breathing against her neck, before slightly loosening her arms around his shoulders, pulling back a little.

When she finally found her voice, it was soft, almost hesitant. “You know... if you ever need this -anytime- I don’t mind. If it helps, I’m here.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, and his expression was so unguarded, so raw, that it took her breath away. There was an innocence to it, a vulnerability she had never seen before. To be fair, a lot of his expressions were new to her, she had only ever known the Soldat. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but instead, he gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, doll.”

Her heart gave an involuntary flutter, but she quickly pushed it aside, managing a tentative smile. “Anytime.”

“Would you… maybe want to hang out sometime? There is no pressure or anything. I just thought... maybe-” she started, hesitating when his blue eyes fixed on her, unreadable. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine too,” she quickly added, dropping her arms completely and stepping back, putting some space between them. “Maybe this thing was... just this moment, and now that we’ve talked, you want to move on with your life. And I’d get it if that’s the case. I don’t want to make this uncomfortable for you.”

Her rambling trailed off, and she winced inwardly, wishing she’d been smoother, braver, or both.

“You’re not making it weird,” he said gently, “You did probably better than me if I’d had the balls to ask.”

Her heart stuttered, “Oh.”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together as though weighing his next words. “Maybe I don’t know what hanging out looks like,” he added, a faint hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice. “But... I’d like to try. If you’re okay with that.”

She blinked, and a cozy warmth bloomed in her chest. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his mouth twitching slightly in almost a smile.

She smiled then. “Okay. Again, no pressure, though. Just... whatever feels right. Whenever.”

“Whenever,” he echoed softly.

-----

That “whenever” turned into something of a routine. Two or three days a week, they’d meet up, or, phone calls filled the space between them. Bucky hated texting -said it was impersonal and frustrating- and she didn’t mind. In fact, she preferred hearing his voice.

Sometimes, they ventured out. Small, simple outings, a walk through the park, a coffee shop tucked into a corner of the city, or just wandering without a plan.

Like today.

The planetarium was her suggestion. She’d been talking about stargazing lately, and when she casually mentioned she’d never been, he found himself agreeing before he even thought it through. He arrived first, scanning the crowd near the entrance, his with his gloved hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

She was standing a few feet away, and the blue summer dress with tiny white polka dots caught his eye. She was distracted by something on her phone, with a small smile tugging at her lips.

He exhaled through his nose, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts before walking toward her. His boots scuffed the pavement as he approached, but she must have sensed him because her head lifted, and her face brightened as she spotted him.

“Hey,” she said, slipping her phone into her bag, smiling. “You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you,” he replied, flickering his gaze briefly to her dress again. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out: “Nice dress.”

She blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before glancing down and brushing her hands over the fabric. “Oh. Thanks. I bought it in a second-hand store, I used to have one before, and…” better not go there. “You look pretty good too.”

The reply caught him off guard. He blinked, and then, almost unconsciously, his lips quirked into a small smile. It wasn’t much, just a fleeting expression, but it lit up his tired blue eyes in a way she hadn’t seen before.

She decided then and there that she wanted to see that brightness in his eyes again.

The hum of chatter and footsteps around them broke his train of thought. The crowd milling around the planetarium was bigger than he anticipated, and the press of people already made him shift uncomfortably. Without thinking, he offered her his arm.

“Come on,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him, a bit surprised by the gesture, but her lips curved into a soft smile as she slipped her hand through his arm. “Almost forgot what a gentlemanly gesture looked like,” she teased lightly.

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Guess I haven’t forgotten all the old ways,” he replied, with a faint smile. “Some things just stick, I guess.”

She chuckled softly, resting her fingers lightly on his arm as they walked. “I like that,” she admitted, glancing up at him. “Maybe because I’m basically an old lady too.”

He raised a brow, his lips curving slightly. He hesitated, unsure if he should ask, but again, the words came out of his mouth before his brain could stop them. “You are right. I’ve never thought about it... how old are you, grandma?”

Her steps faltered ever so slightly, and her gaze drifted somewhere far away for a fleeting moment before she recovered, forcing a playful smirk. “Oh my, you can’t just ask a lady that.” She let the teasing linger for a second before sighing as if deciding to humor him. “But since you’re being such a gentleman... eighty-eight this year. I think I’ve preserved myself pretty well,” she added, throwing in a wink that felt almost rehearsed. "Mentally, I really lost count... thirty, maybe?"

Bucky blinked, a flicker of guilt tugging at his chest as he noticed the cracks in her playful demeanor. Her lighthearted tone didn’t quite match the faint shadow in her eyes, the way she seemed to deflect rather than engage.

“Sorry, I... shouldn’t have brought it up,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She shook her head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t always walk on eggshells around each other; it would be so tiring...” Her words trailed off for a moment, but then she grinned, and a spark of genuine mischief flickered in her eyes. “I’ll forgive you if you agree to take a picture with me in one of those silly-themed space photo booths.”

He grimaced instinctively at the suggestion, pressing his lips into a reluctant line. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” she replied, “They are adorable, and I always wanted to do something like that with a friend.”

He sighed in resignation. “Fine.”

Her brows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, averting his gaze as they continued walking. “If it makes you happy, sure.”

----

They walked in a comfortable silence, taking in the various themed sections of the planetarium. The displays were illuminated by soft, bluish lights, with models of planets and spacecraft towering over them. She marveled at the detail, occasionally pointing something out, and he would nod or hum in acknowledgment, his gaze always subtly flicking back to her as she admired the exhibits.

As they approached a rocket replica, he stopped, fixing his gaze on it with an unreadable expression.

“I saw a flying car once,” he said suddenly, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Her head snapped toward him, and her eyes lightened up with excitement. “Wait, what? A flying car? Where?”

He glanced at her, and the faintest hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. “At an expo... Stark’s expo. It was supposed to be a big deal.”

“Stark? As in Tony Stark’s dad? Howard Stark?” she asked, her excitement spilling into her voice.

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “We went with Steve and a couple of girls-”

“So... you took your dates to nerdy conventions?” she teased, playfully nudging his ribs with her elbow, still lightly holding onto his arm.

His ears turned pink at her words, and the faintest hint of embarrassment crossed his features. “Something like that,” he muttered.

“Oh?” she teased further, a grin tugging at her lips. “Charming and smart, surely-oh, look!” she interrupted herself, looking to one of the themed photo booths they passed. Without a second thought, she tugged his arm gently.

He followed her, though his expression betrayed his lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so miserable,” she quipped, throwing him a playful glance. “I’ll pay for it. You just put your handsome face in that hole and try to pretend you’re into it.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head, but when they reached the machine, he pulled out some coins and fed them into the slot himself.

“I got it,” he said gruffly.

As they took their places, he turned to her, slightly furrowing his brow. “When does this thing-”

Before he could finish his question, the first flash went off, leaving him momentarily stunned. He squinted and wrinkled his nose at the brightness, instinctively turning forward just as the second flash fired.

By the time the third picture was taken, he managed to focus, smoothing his expression into something neutral. No scowl, no forced effort, just... Bucky.

The booth chimed, signaling the end of the session, and she reached for the printed copies with a grin.

“Oh, these are perfect,” she said, holding them up to inspect.

He leaned over her shoulder to look. The first photo caught them mid-conversation, his face slightly turned toward her as he talked, while she was gazing at him with a soft smile. In the second, her smile was directed at the camera, wide and bright, while he squinted with his nose wrinkled at the flash. The third one that made her pause, a simple shot of them both looking straight at the camera. She was still smiling, and though his expression wasn’t quite a smile, it wasn’t a scowl either. His features were relaxed, and his tired blue eyes were calm. A win.

“Well,” she said, tucking the photos into her bag, “you survived.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Barely.”

“Don’t worry, you did great,” she teased. “I mean, you’re not exactly a natural, but there’s potential.”

He gave her a dry look but didn’t argue, as the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

-----

They continued to walk through the exhibits, and her voice filled the gaps between the growing noise of the crowd. But the further they went, the more people seemed to gather. Conversations overlapped, children darted past, and the sound of footsteps seemed to echo from every direction.

Bucky’s shoulders stiffened, and his gaze started to dart toward every sudden movement. The press of bodies felt too close, the noise too sharp, and a familiar suffocating pressure began to rise in his chest.

“Bucky? Are you-” she began to ask, catching the way his vibranium hand twitched at his side, clenching and unclenching in a rhythm she recognized all too well.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

But she didn’t miss the tension in his jaw or the way his breathing had started to quicken. “Okay,” she said softly, “but maybe we should head outside for a bit? It’s getting pretty crowded in here.”

He nodded jerkyly, and she gently guided him toward the exit. She kept her pace steady, making sure to stay just slightly ahead of him, carving a path through the throng of people.

By the time they reached the doors, his breathing was ragged, and he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. The open-air hit them, cooler than inside, but it wasn’t enough. The people lingering outside -the families, the couples, the chatter- felt like too much.

“This way,” she said softly, steering him down a side path. When they passed an alley, he stopped abruptly, leaning against the brick wall as if his legs could no longer hold him. His head dropped, and his hands braced against his thighs, as his breaths came in short, uneven gasps.

Suddenly, his hands clenched into fists as his shoulders began to shake. She promptly crouched down beside him. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, Buck. I’ve got you.”

He shook his head, and his voice broke. “I can’t- I can’t breathe-” His vibranium hand clenched into a tighter fist, and the metal groaned softly under the pressure. His other hand pressed against his chest as if trying to physically force the panic away.

“You’re safe,” she said gently, lightly resting her hand on his knee. “You’re not there anymore. Just breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

His gaze flicked to her, wild and unfocused, but he tried to mimic her slow and deliberate breaths. It wasn’t immediate, but little by little, the erratic rise and fall of his chest began to even out.

Her hand moved to his, covering his flesh hand first before hesitating and resting against the vibranium one instead. “Feel this,” she murmured, her fingers brushing the cool metal. “This is real. You’re here. With me.”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes squeezed shut as his legs gave out beneath him. Slowly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the pavement.

Without hesitation, she knelt beside him, and the rough ground dug into her knees, but she didn’t care. She kept her hands on his with a firm grip, whispering soft reassurances. “It’s okay. Just breathe with me.”

His chest heaved as he tried to match her calm, deliberate breaths. The panic still gripped him, sharp and relentless, but her voice and presence cut through the worst of it like a lifeline.

When he finally lifted his head to look at her, his glassy blue eyes were full of guilt and pain. His voice trembled, barely audible. “I’m sorry. I… your polka-”

A whimper broke through his words, his gaze dropping to her dress, now soaked from the puddle she was kneeling in.

“Shhh,” she interrupted, shaking her head firmly. “You don’t need to apologize for this.” Her voice was low, and so achingly gentle that it made his chest tighten. “Everything’s fine, Bucky. It’s just water. It doesn’t matter.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump that refused to go away. “I hate this,” he admitted hoarsely. “Feeling like this... making you-”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t make me do anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because I care.”

He looked at her again, taking in the way her dress clung to her knees, the way her hair was slightly disheveled from their hurried escape, the way her eyes held nothing but understanding.

She sighed, and her gaze dropped briefly to where her hands still rested on his, before meeting his eyes again. “Over decades, I had to fix you,” she said softly. “Not as a person. Not as... you. But as a tool. A deadly, efficient weapon. A puppet of carnage under their thumb.”

Her hands squeezed his gently again. “And every time I healed you, every time I put you back together, it felt like I was just handing you over to them all over again. But now...” she briefly paused to steady her slightly trembling voice. “Now, I don’t have to do it because they’re forcing me to. I don’t have to patch you up so they can send you back out to kill or to suffer.”

Her lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile. “Now, I get to help you as a friend. Because I want to. Because I see you.”

His head turned back toward her; his blue eyes were wide and glassy with unshed tears that he refused to let fall. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

She reached up, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. “I know it’s hard to accept that, Bucky. I know. But I’m here. And I’ll keep being here, as long as you’ll let me.”

Finally, he exhaled shakily, slightly bowing his head. “I don’t deserve that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“You deserve more than you think,” she replied gently, leaning forward just enough to catch his gaze again. “You just don’t see it yet. But I do. And I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Slowly, she leaned back, giving him space while still keeping her hands resting lightly on his.

He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse as he finally said, “Thank you.”

She smiled softly. “Anytime, Buck.”

----

When the emotional storm had eased, he stood, brushing off his pants with a muted sigh. He still looked shaken, though he seemed to carry himself with that familiar, quiet resolve.

“I’m taking you home,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She blinked, caught off guard. “I’m fine. I can-”

“Please,” he interrupted. The weight of his gaze silenced any protest she might have had. “Just... let me do this.”

She hesitated but nodded. “Alright.”

As they walked toward the street, she noticed his furtive glances at her dress. His eyes darted to the wet fabric clinging to her knees, then quickly away, as though looking at it too long would somehow make things worse.

When they reached the curb, he raised his hand to hail a cab. She could see the tension still lingering in his shoulders and the way his gaze flickered around their surroundings as though scanning for threats.

.

When they reached her building, he stepped out first, scanning the area before offering her his hand to help her out of the cab. She took it, lingering her touch just slightly longer than necessary.

“Thank you,” she said softly as they stood in front of her door.

He nodded, stepping back as though preparing to leave. But before he could retreat further, she spoke again.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked.

He hesitated, flexing his hand at his side. “I don’t think it’s a good idea...”

She crossed her arms loosely and leaned against the doorframe, watching him carefully. “Why not?”

He glanced down, as if the words were written somewhere on the pavement. “I just... I don’t want to make things... weird. Or... harder.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, though her eyes betrayed her concern. “Bucky, you’re not going to make anything harder. We’ve been through harder. You’re allowed to have a cup of coffee with a friend.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s late,” he added weakly, like he was searching for excuses, probably mortified by what happened earlier.

“It’s not that late,” she countered. “And you’re still ensuring I’m okay, so... maybe let me do the same for you?”

“Okay,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Just for a little while.”

She smiled, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Make yourself at home, you already know where everything is. I’ll go change”

Bucky stepped hesitantly inside, as though he were intruding, even with her invitation. He stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment, looking at the familiar details: books stacked on the coffee table, a knit throw draped over the couch, a faintly lavender scent lingering in the air. It was warm, welcoming, and unmistakably hers.

There were a few more plants than the last time he’d been there, their leaves were lush and healthy, catching the soft light of a nearby lamp. His eyes drifted to a basket by the couch, filled with yarn and a half-finished crochet project. She must’ve started something new, though he wasn’t sure what.

A few minutes later, she reappeared in a sweatshirt and leggings. Draped over her arm was another piece of clothing, a pair of grey sweatpants. She held them out toward him without much ceremony.

“Here,” she said casually. “Your jeans got wet too. These aren’t fancy, but they’ll do until yours dry.”

Bucky frowned slightly as he took the pants. They were plain, unassuming, but distinctly... male. A faint crease appeared on his brow as his thoughts began to spiral. Whose sweatpants...?

“Don’t like grey?” she teased, breaking through his train of thought.

He blinked, looking up to meet her eyes. She was watching him with a faint smirk, completely unaware of the questions ricocheting in his head.

“Uh, no, grey’s fine,” he muttered, gripping the sweatpants tighter. He mumbled a quiet “Thanks” before heading toward the bathroom to change.

As he shut the door behind him, his reflection stared back at him in the small mirror above the sink. He could feel the weight of his own thoughts pressing down. Why does she have these? Who left them here? Was it someone she’s seeing?

The idea settled uncomfortably in his chest. It wasn’t as if he had any right to ask, and yet... the questions wouldn’t leave him. He pulled off his damp jeans and slid into the sweatpants. When he returned to the living room, she’d set up a drying rack by the window, and extended her hand toward him to take his jeans and put them there.

“Thanks,” he said again.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled, brushing her hands off as she turned back to him. “No problem. You look good in grey, by the way,” she said with a wink, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Bucky’s lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile, but his thoughts remained tangled. He sat down on the edge of the couch again, briefly flicking his gaze to the sweatpants before settling on her.

“Do you want tea, or are you sticking to coffee tonight?” she asked, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Coffee’s fine,” he replied, almost distant.

As she busied herself in the kitchen, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping through his body. It’s none of my business, he reminded himself firmly. She can have whoever she wants here. It doesn’t mean anything.

He rested his elbows on his knees, and his thoughts spiraled as his eyes fixed on the coffee table. The faint sounds of her moving around the kitchen didn’t help, they left him feeling more isolated, as though he were drifting further from solid ground.

With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. He told himself it was to keep her company, but deep down, he felt like a lost puppy, tailing after her for no reason other than to stave off the weight pressing on his chest.

She didn’t seem to mind. When he appeared in the doorway, she glanced back and offered him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the coffee mugs she was setting out.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, trying to look casual despite the storm brewing inside him. She hummed softly as she worked, relaxed and unhurried.

As she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she rummaged through her purse and pulled out a small paper envelope with the photos they’d taken at the planetarium’s booth.

A soft laugh escaped her as she flipped through the images, and her gaze lingered on the one where he was squinting and scrunching his nose from the flash. Without hesitation, she walked over to the fridge and stuck it there with a sunflower-shaped magnet.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her, unconsciously tightening his fingers around the fabric of the sweatpants. “What are you doing with that?” he asked, his tone edged with tension.

She glanced at him unbothered. “I love this one,” she answered simply, gesturing to the photo. “So it goes on the fridge. Right where I can see it.”

His jaw worked silently for a moment, a flicker of something he couldn’t name tightening in his chest.

She seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and her smile softened as she walked back toward him, holding out the other two pictures. “Do you want any of these?” she asked.

Bucky hesitated, glancing down at the photos in her hand. One showed her smiling brightly at the camera while he’d been caught mid-sentence, looking confused but oddly endearing. The other was the final shot, where they were both looking straight ahead, her grin wide and radiant, while his expression was almost neutral, but not unpleasant.

He pointed at the last one. “Maybe… that one.”

She handed it to him, brushing his fingers briefly. “Good choice,” she said with a smile, watching as he stared at the photo in his hand.

His thumb brushed absently over the glossy surface of the picture, and the edges crinkled slightly under the pressure of his fingers. He glanced up again, and his gaze fell on the photo she’d stuck on the fridge. He bit his lower lip.

There was a rhythm, a game to moments like this. Small, personal exchanges that could shape the tone of a connection. But he was out of practice. And tired. So tired. Instead of letting the thought fade, he spoke bluntly.

“Whose pants are these?”

She didn’t turn to look at him, focused on filtering the coffee. “Sam’s,” she said lightly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A pang hit him square in the chest. Well, yes, they were friends. Actually, he’d met her again thanks to him. Neither of them had said anything about seeing each other, and he hadn’t considered the possibility that... maybe they had their dynamic. Their own history.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

She finally turned around, holding two mugs in her hands. “They’re his old workout pants,” she explained. “He left them here ages ago when he helped me move some heavy furniture. I tried to give them back, but he told me to keep them. Said they didn’t fit him right anymore.”

Bucky’s lips twitched faintly, and his grip eased on the photo. “Oh,” he repeated, softer this time, nodding slightly as if to himself.

She studied him for a moment, with a hint of curiosity flickering in her gaze, before offering him one of the mugs. “Why do you ask?”

He hesitated, gripping the photo a little tighter again. “I don’t know,” he muttered after a pause, the faintest trace of vulnerability slipping through his tone. “I guess I just... wondered.” He glanced back down at the photo, the corners of his mouth pulling downward faintly. The laughter in her face, so easy and genuine in the picture, contrasted sharply with the heavier thoughts swirling in his chest.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He blinked, startled by the question, and quickly nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Hmm,” she murmured, unconvinced but not pressing further. Instead, she offered him a small smile and gestured toward the living room. “Let’s sit. Coffee’s better when you’re not standing around awkwardly, you know?”

He followed her lead, moving slowly and setting the photo down carefully beside his mug on the coffee table. As he joined her on the couch, he caught himself glancing at her again.

Before he could avert his gaze, she met his eyes, and her brow furrowed. “Buck,” she started, gentle but firm, “you should have told me about the crowds. We could’ve gone somewhere else, like our other outings.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers as though searching for something to say. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he admitted quietly. “Didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she replied quickly, leaning forward slightly. “You know that, right? I had fun. It’s just... I hate that you felt like you had to tough it out when you didn’t have to.”

He nodded slowly, still avoiding her gaze. “I’m used to... pushing through,” he muttered. “It’s what I do.”

She tilted her head, studying him carefully. “Maybe with me, you don’t have to,” she said softly, almost hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure how he’d take it. “Crowds were a thing for me for a long time after I escaped. Sometimes they still are. I mean, I never left the Hydra bases when they woke me up from cryo. All I knew for years was my cell, yours, the med bay, the cryo room, and the... party accommodations.” Her voice faltered slightly at the last phrase, but she pressed on. “It was just those walls every day since they abducted me one day returning from the bakery. So I get it. We don't have to do it again if you know you'll maybe feel bad.

“You were... just going home from the bakery?” he asked, softly.

She nodded, and her gaze went distant for a moment, like she was sifting through memories she didn’t want to relive but couldn’t ignore. “It was a normal day. I had flour dust on my dress, and a loaf of rye in my bag, thinking about what to make for dinner. And then...” She shrugged, her fingers gripping her mug tightly, knuckles whitening. “Then it wasn’t normal anymore.”

“You didn’t deserve that.” He muttered.

Her lips quirked into a sad, fleeting smile. “Neither did you. So, as I was saying, you don’t always have to keep it together, Bucky. Not with me. You’ve already seen me at my worst, and I know more about that part of your past than anyone else ever could. There’s no point pretending.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, drumming his fingers once against his knee before stilling.

“It’s not that simple,” he said finally, his tone was laced with frustration, not directed at her, but at himself. “I’ve been... I always had to handle things on my own. Even now, it’s just-” He broke off, shaking his head.

“Instinct,” she finished for him. “It’s hard to break.”

He nodded, looking down at his hands. “Yeah.”

She leaned forward slightly, touching softly his forearm. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But... I want you to know you don’t have to do it alone.”

His gaze drifted to where her hand rested lightly on his forearm. The warmth of her touch seeped through the fabric of his henley. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he worked through the knot tightened in his chest.

His eyes then flicked over to the coffee table, landing on the photo they’d taken at the planetarium. There it was, sitting beside his untouched mug, her bright smile and his calm expression. The corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then his gaze fell to the grey sweatpants he was wearing. Sam’s sweatpants. His fingers instinctively flexed around the fabric, tightening briefly before releasing as he tried to kick out the intrusive thoughts. He clenched his jaw. His breathing hitched.

And then… fuck it all.

Slowly, tentatively, he shifted forward hesitantly. He hovered his vibranium hand in the space between them before lightly gripping her shoulder. Her gaze snapped up to his, her eyes widening in surprise but softening immediately when she saw the conflict etched into his expression.

She didn’t move or speak, giving him the space to figure it out. And when he finally leaned in, wrapping his arms around her with careful deliberation, she melted into the embrace without hesitation.

His chin rested lightly against her temple, his flesh hand pressing against the small of her back while his vibranium one lingered just above it, as though unsure of its place. His chest rose and fell unevenly against her, his breathing was still a little erratic but slowing, steadied by the warmth of her body.

Her arms slid around his waist, holding him tightly, and she murmured, “It’s okay, Buck.”

He didn’t reply, couldn’t find the words even if he wanted to. His grip tightened slightly. The scent of her shampoo, the faint hum of her heartbeat, it was overwhelming, yet calming all at once.

He closed his eyes, his cheek brushing lightly against the crown of her head as he let himself sink into the moment. For once, he allowed himself to take the comfort instead of pushing it away. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in his chest loosened just enough for him to breathe deeply.

Her fingers moved gently against his back, tracing soothing circles through the fabric of his shirt. “You’re okay,” she whispered again. “We’re okay.”

He swallowed thickly and his lips parted as if to say something, but he stopped himself, settling instead for the faintest squeeze of her waist.

They stood like that for a while, their breaths mingling in the quiet, until the sharp buzz of her phone shattered the bubble. She sighed, reluctantly pulling away. He also pulled back, slow and hesitant, dropping his arms to his sides.

She turned to grab her phone, furrowing her brows as she glanced at the screen. “It’s Sam,” she muttered, answering it quickly.

Bucky stayed rooted in place, his enhanced hearing picking up snippets of the conversation despite himself. The words “mission” and “Patagonia” stood out, along with a timeline: five days. When she hung up, she turned to him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, feigning casual curiosity, though his posture stiffened ever so slightly.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, Sam just said we’ve got a mission. Argentina. Something about a big crew going along. He’ll fill me in the details tomorrow.”

The words hit him almost physically. Argentina’s Patagonia region. The location echoed in his mind, igniting memories he’d rather not revisit. Post-war asylum. Hydra remnants. The country’s role after WW2 wasn’t a secret.

His entire body language shifted. The soft, vulnerable demeanor from moments before hardened into something colder and sharper. A mask of resolution and rage settled over his features, and she noticed the change immediately.

“Bucky?” she prompted.

His thoughts spiraled. A Hydra facility? What if something went wrong? What if she ended up in their hands again? The images flooded his mind. The dark cells, the abuse, the cruelty. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and the tension radiated from him like a storm about to break.

“I’m going,” he said abruptly.

“What do you mean, you are-? Bucky, you can’t just decide-”

He stood abruptly, raking a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “Speak to Sam. Tell him.” he said, in a low but commanding tone.

“Tell him what?” she asked, confused.

“Whatever you consider necessary,” he replied, in a tone loaded with implication. Their past.

“Wait-”

“I forgot I have somewhere to go,” He grabbed the photo from the coffee table, tucking it into his back pocket without a second glance.

“Bucky-.”

But he was already halfway to the door. He paused for the briefest moment, with his back to her, before stepping out and letting the door click shut behind him.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @sunshinedayz19 @star-maker-rain-dancer @tumdlrnewb84 @mgchaser @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @gotminho @kaitlin013106 @startorrent @idontknowhowtonormal @mattmurdock42 @hnnhbananananana @aeriss-at-heart45 @jainaeatsstars @airixaram @seventeen-x @jaxz21 @zizzlekwum @hi172826 @valckenaux @moth-maam56 @myllamatimemachine @unaxv @smiithys @cats-chaotic-mind @melsunshine @neuviloved @cjand10 @frombkjar @strvnger3ditz @nikkinss @alexandra-001 @lavanderbreeze @cats-chaotic-mind @sleep-tight1 @lasrehsif

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[neminomnom]

Alterantive uinverse powder headcanons

Who should I write headcanons for next 🤨 and some of these are just general headcanons, some if you was in a relationship with her, I hope you enjoy!!

—————————————

- Powder would be so good at talking things out/ communicating with people, if theres a problem or someone is doing something that she doesn’t like, powder won’t be rude about it but will get her point across.

-Her skincare routine is effective but simple, no matter the weather she always puts sunscreen on.

- Her favourite fizzy drink is cherry doctor pepper, or sprite.

- If you was in a relationship with powder or just close friends, be prepared to get given so many homemade gifts, like bracelets and little good luck charms.

- Talking about charms, she has so many and brings them everywhere with her, always hiding them in her socks, as an earring or in her pockets.

- Of course she still struggles, but powder is a lot more calmer and can keep her emotions in check for longer, unlike jinx.

- She could easily lie down for hours blasting music while talking to Vi in her hide out, if she has had a bad day you would find her doing exactly that.

- Her faveroute band would be queen, she loves how upbeat the songs are.

- Powder likes collecting perfume, but doesn’t have a set taste with them, one day she would smell like lavender, then the next day she would smell like a sweet shop.

-She has a huge sweet tooth, to her, nothing is ever too sweet or sickly, her favourite meal of the day is dessert.

-I feel like powder would be really intrigued with other cultures and languages and would be more than willing to learn about them.

-Powder doodles stars and hearts on like EVERY page in her notebooks.

- She loves to talk, so if you’re interested, be prepared to get taught a new lesson on machinery and how to DIY stuff .

- Powder and vander sometimes do matching hairstyles, since they both have similar hair and thought it would be funny.

- She has probably found a stray cat and took it home on multiple occasions, each of the cats would have a funky name, and she would take great care of them, but they would all end up running off somewhere

—————————————————————————

[lillaydee]

Head Over Heels Part 6

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11 @liciafonseca @senoratess @denisanoemi @lovefreylove @heartpatch

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

---

Ellie waited for about an hour outside your studio before giving up that day. She came back the day after and waited 30 minutes longer than the day before. She never waited longer than two hours, Joel would lose his mind if she wasn’t home by curfew. But she kept waiting, day in and day out, hoping you would even glance at her. You didn’t.

You didn’t want to be petty, but fuck, you’d discovered that you definitely were petty. PETTY. So petty you started having fun watching her stand around hoping you’d open the door and invite her in.

But then, after a week, you just felt cruel. Yet, you were not ready to give in, so you just went in and out of your studio via the library door.

You were just settling in bed one night, feeling a bit light-hearted since you didn’t see Ellie out your window that day, when you heard a scratch on the door leading to the library.

Shit, what was that? A rat? A ghost?

Took you a while to gather up the courage to go to the door. But when the scratch turned into a knock, you pursed your lips together and yanked it open, a sorry looking teenager falling onto her back as you did. She had followed you home from work one day and discovered the door from the library. The cheeky bugger had hidden herself somewhere in the library until Ike left and ambushed you.

You couldn’t help yourself and laughed out loud.

She got up, standing in the dark doorway, waiting for you to grant her access.

You jerked your head inwards, and she released a heavy sigh of relief before stepping inside. You walked across the room to switch the light on, but she begged you not to chase her away. She thought you were going to open the other door and make her leave.

You switched the light on and asked her to take a seat on your bed.

She smiled a teary smile and did as you asked.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at her, waiting for her to explain herself.

She twisted her hands together, finally taking a deep breath.

“Elena, am I the reason you moved out?”

You didn’t answer. Just cocked your head to the side a little, your eyebrows raised, your lips pursed together as if to say what do you think? She nodded, looking down at the floor.

“I’m sorry I said those things, Elena. I don’t mean them. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why did you say them?”

She shrugged. Her lips began to tremble, “I’m so sorry Elena, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did, Ellie.”

She nodded, sobbing a little now, and damn it, the stupid gender-related instinct in you lost and you went over and hugged her. She clung on to you, apologizing over and over again. I know, you said, kissing the top of her head, I know.

She explained herself when she had calmed down a little, telling you everything that was going on in her head, how Maria chastised her for hurting you, the words ‘I’m sorry’ repeated like a broken record. You made a mental note to bake Maria something as a thank you.

She knew you wouldn’t forgive her just like that, she said, but she’s willing to work for your forgiveness. She’ll do anything, she said. Please, Elena, she said. I’m sorry.

“That’ll do for now,” you said, “But you have to work hard to earn my forgiveness Ellie. I’m not an angel. I have feelings. Anger. Sadness. Pettiness.”

She laughed a little at your last statement, nodding, asking you if she could stay with you that night. Joel was out on night patrol. Of course, you said. The two of you spent the night talking, and you had to assure her she was not the sole reason you moved out. She finally asked you if she could ask you something. Sure, you said, anything.

“Bill and Frank, the guys you lived with, were they a couple? Like a romantic couple?”

You nodded.

“What’s that like? Loving someone of the same sex? Romantic love, I mean. Not like you love Maria or Liv or Diana.”

You shrugged, “It’s the same as loving someone of the opposite sex, I guess. It’s love, Ellie.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong? To choose to be in love with someone of the same sex?”

You laughed a bit, “Loving someone is not a choice, Ellie. You don’t choose to love someone. Not romantically, at least. That’s why you fall in love. Who you fall in love with is not something you consciously do. You fall in love because you do. Who they are, what sex they are, it doesn’t matter. You don’t choose Ellie. It just happens.”

“What if people hate you for it?”

“Then… I feel sorry for them for not having enough love in their life to not understand love is not a choice.”

She went quiet for a while.

“If I fall in love with a girl, would you hate me?”

“Why would I? If you’re in love, you’re happy, so I’ll be happy for you.”

“You don’t want to ask me who I’m talking about?”

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

She nodded. She looked contemplative for a while.

“But I can choose to love a boy instead, can’t I? It’ll be much easier.”

“Oh, honey, if who you fall in love with was a choice, I would choose different,” you told her, smoothing her hair out. “Believe me, my life would be so much better.”

She contemplated her next words very, very carefully.

“Joel?”

You didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what you think of him exactly, Elena, but I know you’re wrong. You should give him a chance. He’s just… complicated.”

“Unlike being in love, being complicated is a choice,” you told her. “Just like choosing to hurt people with your words.”

She nodded, telling you she was sorry again, and you hugged her to sleep that night.

It’ll be a process, you had told her, but you knew in your heart you had already forgiven her.      

**********

You sat in one corner of the dining hall having lunch with the girls, the kitchen feeling a bit stuffy that day. You had been cooped up in there since five this morning, after spending the entire night there with Diana, making pasta. You needed to get out. Maria had come to you with an extra sack of flour from Ricky, the guy who came by every other month to barter his findings with the townsfolk, asking if the hall could indulge him by making pasta for him to keep that day. He milled the flour himself, the last of the season’s from his small farm. His wife had passed from illness a few months prior, and she used to make them for trade.

There was enough pasta left over for two trays of it when Ricky had taken his cut, and the tomatoes Liv planted were particularly juicy that week, so you decided to make some pasta for lunch, while the rest of the kitchen staff focused on garlic bread and salad.

You sat there as Maria rubbed your back, and Liv, Diana’s, the rolling and kneading the night before taking a toll on the two of you. You saw Joel, Ellie and Tommy walk in together, taking a helping of pasta and the sides, sitting down together, chit chatting before taking a bite of the pasta.

You saw Joel’s demeanour change. He stared at the simple pasta you made and began shovelling huge forkfuls into his mouth, his eyes closing, his free hand fisted on the table, head tilted back a little, very obviously enjoying the meal.

Something inside you recognized something that day. He had that pasta before.

Sometimes, when Bill was in one of his moods during Tess and Joel’s visits, he would refuse to cook for them, choosing instead to watch them from the upstairs window of your house. He would leave telling you and Frank about this decision of his to the last minute, so the quickest thing you could normally whip up was pasta. Joel would take a few helpings of them every time you served them, and sometimes, Frank would put some into Tupperware containers for him to take home.

You always figured he was another starving man who had just walked for hours to get there. Anything was good when you were hungry and tired.

You saw him say something to Ellie, who got up and ran out. She came back after a little while, two Tupperware containers in her hands, asking one of the kitchen staff to put some in there for her to take home. Joel got up and went to get himself a second helping.  It was only then a thought entered your head.

But your thoughts got interrupted.

“Oh, he likes pasta,” you heard Vanessa coo from the table next to yours.

Your jaws clenched as she made plans to get groceries from the grocery store after lunch, pasta, basil and tomatoes among them.

You made sure he didn’t see you and slipped out to go home.

**********

You had the day off that next day. You were spending the day helping Ike catalogue a box of new books for the school – one of the patrol teams found some, miraculously in good shape. Lucy came to send him his lunch, and asked if you could help her grandson Luke at the chicken coop for a few hours. The kind lady in charge he normally worked with was out with the flu, her husband was on patrol and the other lady who helped them had a sick child, and the poor boy, having just turned 12, was rather overwhelmed, scared of picking eggs since he got pecked a few weeks ago. You didn’t need coaxing – you needed to pick up the eggs for stock and distribution at the hall anyway.

Luke was a sweet boy, hardworking, polite, a testament to his grandparents who had raised him since he was only eight. His parents had gone out on patrol one day and never came back, leaving poor Luke an orphan overnight. Thank God for Ike and Lucy.

That day, he swept the coop while you fed the chickens, deciding to leave the egg picking for last. He had asked you to help him ‘get brave’ again, he wanted to keep working there, and he was worried that India, his boss, would ‘fire’ him. Ike liked an egg or two with his breakfast, and Luke was worried he had to go without if he was ever fired. You made a mental note to tell Ike and Lucy of his worries, the poor boy unaware that the eggs were distributed to everyone daily; India only gave him extras as payment for a job well done.

So after the daily chores were done, you coaxed Luke to the back of the coop where the chickens usually lay their eggs, opening the lowered roof to the area to collect them. Just your luck, the chickens were too busy elsewhere to bother the two of you that day, and you held the basket while Luke collected the eggs, gently placing them in the four massive baskets you had with you.

The small squeak of the chicken coop gate drew your attention. Luke pulled you down to hide, as he was taught since infancy, in case of an attack. You indulged him, peeking through the chicken wires to see who it was.

Joel Miller.

“He comes here a few days a week, checking the chicken wires. He replaced them when you guys first got here,” Luke whispered. “Watch, he always does this,” he said, as Joel looked around, checking no one was looking, before taking a familiar looking Tupperware container, one you had seen him receive from and return to a certain besotted married lady, hidden under his jacket, opening it, and hastily emptying the pasta inside into the chicken feed. He then hid the Tupperware again before pulling absent mindedly at different parts of the chicken wire, his head swivelling around the way it would when he’s surveying his surroundings, leaving right away, closing the gate behind him.

“He’s been doing that for weeks,” Luke told you. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just eat them,” he said. “India said maybe the food is bad, the chickens don’t really eat them. I have to sweep them away the next day.”

You don’t know why, but as you watched the chickens peck around the discarded pasta, you felt very, very happy.

**********

Maria didn’t want a usual baby shower. It wasn’t as if the girls could go shopping anyway. She was getting hand-me-downs from the women in town, baby clothes, bottles, the likes. Instead, she wanted a nice, ladies only, fancy tea party.

You groaned out loud at the thought.

It meant you had to dress up.

Shit.

You told the girls you might just stay in the kitchen… you didn’t own a dress… you didn’t want to spoil the aesthetic of the evening. Maria was legitimately talking about wearing a fascinator. You had to look up the meaning in a dictionary. But the girls just told you they would take you ‘shopping’. You were not getting out of this, lady!

Oh, dear God.

You grew up a tomboy. With two very, very typical ‘manly men’ big brothers whose idea of fun was practicing their wrestling moves against each other on you. Your Mama gave up on telling them to stop just about the time Benny decided to climb on a cupboard and perform a diving crossbody onto you who he had instructed to lay still on the mattress. You remembered that day clearly. She was screaming, eyes scrunched shut, thinking this was it, her baby girl was gonna die cause her brothers saw her as a practice dummy. But you had the mind to roll away as he jumped off, causing him to dislocate his shoulder.

It was the day your Mama found out she didn’t have to worry about you too much, even if it meant she had to take her youngest boy to the ER. Oddly enough, neither Will nor Benny ever tried that move on you again.

On the days you had to put on your Sunday best, you never wore a dress. When Frank found a gorgeous dress at the boutique and told you to have your first picks before storing the rest away for barter, you blinked at him for a good ten minutes while Bill, who had known you all of your life, roared with laughter at the idea of you wearing a dress, to the point where he couldn’t breathe properly. Frank gave up after that, though he did suggest that you might look good in one every once in a while if you gave it a chance.

So two days before the tea party, the girls dragged you to the warehouse, announcing to the ladies working at the clothes ‘department’ they needed to pull out the perfect dress for you. Ellie was there, being on warehouse rotation that week as her after school activity. She laughed along with the ladies at your mortification when several supremely girly dresses were presented to you for the occasion. She laughed so hard, you had a lightbulb moment.

“Hey Ellie, remember when I said you need to work for my forgiveness?”

She stopped laughing, but her face morphed into one of excitement at your question. She nodded enthusiastically.   

Well, well, well… who’s mortified now?

“You wear a dress to the party, make up, hair done, the works, and we call it even.”

Ellie froze at your words.

She looked stunned for a while, before turning to her friend Cat, asking her to take her ‘shopping’. Cat looked elated, pulling the teenager’s hand into a corner where the dresses for girls their age were.

Wow. She must really want your forgiveness.

But… that meant you needed to hold up your end of the bargain too. You took a deep breath and tried on the dresses, before choosing one and going home to wash it before the big party.

The day of the party came. You went to Liv and Diana’s to get ready, and they helped you get dressed, plastered some 20-year-old make up on your face, and styled your hair a bit. You felt like a ridiculous mannequin. There was too much breeze going up your legs. The dress was flowy, but the brisk summer night’s breeze was making them cling to your figure as you walked towards Maria’s. You went to Joel and Ellie’s first, having promised her you would pick her up – you two non-girly girls would face the shame of being seen in dresses for the first time together. Ride or die.

You didn’t need to knock, Ellie came rushing to open the door as soon as she heard your footsteps on the porch. She had her bathrobe on, but her hair was all styled up in some sort of a braided look, her eyes lined with eyeliners, and her lips with some really dark lipstick.

Cat and Dina were there, getting ready with her. They whistled when the saw you, grinning like Chesire cats at your grumpy face. They looked very pretty with their dresses on.

Ellie finally took her bathrobe off, standing there awkwardly, waiting for your approval. She had on a black dress, giving the whole emo look a new definition post outbreak.

“I saw those movies – the Addam’s family. I thought I could be Wednesday Addams for the night,” she said, sulking a little as you lost your composure and started looking like the darned cat yourself. When your shoulders started shaking from trying not to laugh, she laughed too. “Am I forgiven now, or what?”

You hugged her. She hung on to you, tight. “You look really pretty, Ellie,” you told her. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re the only person I would ever wear a dress for, just so you know. Love you Elena,” she added, hugging you again.

“Love you too, BabyGirl.”

She looked up at you, delicate tears in her eyes, smiling, before hugging you again.

The door to the basement opened, and Joel came up, carrying parts of a crib into the kitchen. He had been working on it over the last couple of weeks, Ellie told you. It was his gift to the parents to be. He laid the parts on the kitchen island and shut the door, turning around to get the parts back to assemble when he spotted Ellie.

The teenager’s cheeks turned pink as her father figure saw her in a dress for the first time. He looked impressed, but trying to hold in a laughter at the same time.

“If you laugh, I will smother you with a pillow in your sleep, old man,” she said before he could let out the laugh. He immediately straightened his face, reducing the smirk into a smile, telling her she looked nice, giving her a side hug.

When he noticed you, though, the smile disappeared.

If Joel was trying to hide the fact that he was ogling you, he failed. Miserably so. He couldn’t even close his mouth, his eyes giving you a once over from head to toe. You found yourself feeling a lot warmer than you had ever felt in your life, looking for anywhere else to look but at him, pulling the shawl you had brought around your shoulders, as if it would lessen the warmth you were feeling, wishing you could disappear.

If he laughed at you…

“Doesn’t she look nice, Joel?” Dina said, a sly smirk on her face. Cat and Ellie had to turn away to hide their smiles.

Joel looked as if he had just realized the girls were there. His hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes averted, mumbling to himself before finally saying something to you.

“You… erm… you look… *clears throat* very good. Erm… very nice,” he blubbered, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, come on Joel, she looks hot as fuck!” Ellie said.

“Language!” you and Joel chorused. Ellie rolled her eyes and went to open the door, beckoning to Cat and Dina to join her. You held the door open, waited for a flustered looking Joel to pick up the parts for the crib and went out the door before closing the door behind him, walking across the street as fast as you could, holding Maria’s door open for him to place the disassembled crib in the living room.

He chanced a glance or two at you before moving back to the door. As you made to close the door behind him, he turned and held the door from being shut.

“You really do, you know. Look hot… erm… beautiful… you look… really beautiful,” he managed to get out, eyes on the wooden dice necklace with your name carved into them around your neck.

God, Joel. Don’t hurt yourself trying to fake a compliment. You gave him a half-hearted smile and made to close the door again. He held the door still.

“I’ll, erm… I’ll see you back home?” he said, eyes shooting up to yours for a moment before looking at your bracelet, the one similar to your necklace. “Have fun tonight,” he said, before pulling the door shut.

Sheesh. Still had no clue you no longer lived there. Pfft. What a jerk.

It was only then that you noticed how quiet the house was, despite it being full of very nicely dressed, very chatty ladies. They were all staring at you, a teasing smile on their faces. Maria, Ellie, Liv and Diana looked as if Christmas just got there months early. Tommy just looked like he had a hanger stuck in his mouth.

For whatever reason, everyone looked super happy and excited to see you.

Everyone except Vanessa and Esther. Those two looked like you just killed their puppies. Vanessa huffed, put her drink down and rushed out. Esther turned away from you, muttering under her breath.

Tommy came to take the disassembled crib into the freshly painted nursery. He and Joel were going to get together the next day to assemble it, he told you as you helped him carry one piece upstairs.

“You and Joel… you’re talking again?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“You don’t have to worry, I didn’t tell him anything. Maria had to tell me, cause I suggested giving the studio to Jesse. He’s living alone in a four bedroom, you know, we could use the house should a family come in.”

You nodded. You didn’t know how to feel about him knowing you moved out, about him not telling Joel. One part of you was deeply hurt he still hadn’t noticed. But another part of you was definitely relieved. You turned to rejoin the party.

“Joel… he’s complicated,” Tommy offered. “He doesn’t hate you, Elena. Please know that. He’s just… I don’t know. But he doesn’t hate you. Just… give him time. He’ll come around.”

You gave him a smile, nodded a little and left.

What the fuck did that mean? Even when ‘complimenting’ you the man could hardly look you in the eyes. How the fuck else were you supposed to decipher that other than hatred?

You got downstairs and joined in on the merriment. You had to admit, you had a great time, although you did have to stop Ellie from taking her dress off in favour of the jeans and shirt she had managed to smuggle in. You watched as Maria opened packages with used items in them, tearfully thanking whoever they were from, despite knowing they were handed down to them in the first place. You kept thinking how different your life now was compared to a year ago, and how different this party was than it would’ve been if the world hadn’t gone to seed.

You were putting more sandwiches on the serving platter in the kitchen when Esther came in. She leaned on the counter, eyeing you as you did your task. You shot her a quick smile, asking her if she could pass the crackers that were just behind her.

As she did, she didn’t let go.

“Why is he so obsessed with you, huh?”

“Who?” you asked, puzzled.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. No single men in town has ever managed to resist me, save for Joel Miller. So what gives?”

You laughed disbelievingly. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Esther. But if he doesn’t want you, I have nothing to do with it. The man hates me,” you said, pulling the container of home made crackers from her hands, opening it and placing some on the platter.

She grabbed your hand instead, “Don’t play dumb with me, Elena. You have the man in a chokehold, and all I want to know is, how are you doing this when I’ve never seen you give him an ounce of attention.”

“Really, Esther, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, pulling your hand away from her. The bracelet snagged, and the dices with the alphabets to your name carved onto them clattered to the wooden floor.

Your heart went cold. Tears began to fill your eyes. Tess gave you that bracelet. Liv and Diana came in, asking you what was taking so long with the refill, only to panic seeing your emotional state, kneeling on the floor, searching for the dices, desperately trying to find them all to put back together. You could, right? You could find a string, or a piece of wire to string them back together?

Esther huffed out of there as soon as Diana gave her one of her dirty looks, the two sisters helping you look for the dices. But you had found them all. All seven pieces of the five dices, one of the Es and the A cloven into two from the wear and tear and impact from the fall.

You sat there, tears in your eyes, and suddenly the memory of Tess’s extremely delighted face as you put the bracelet on for the first time came flooding to your mind. This was not the first bracelet she gave you, there were three others, all simpler than this, but they had been damaged by time or wear, or in the case of the last one, an infected. She replaced them each time.

What you wouldn’t do to have her replace this one now.

**********

Joel sat on the couch facing the front door. It was almost 11, Tommy had come and gone. He was waiting for you and Ellie to come home. It was not often he had the time to sit around waiting like this. He was always either on patrol, or off fixing something, or down in the basement working on something or other; the crib, for the past two weeks.

He was nervous. Seeing you all dressed up like that fucked up with him big time. All his resolve, all his justifications for staying away from you disappeared, just like that. Tommy kept telling him someone was going to snatch you away one day, and he would regret acting the way he did. But he had always gone to his number one defence – denial. Why the hell not? He’s great at it. Been at it for 15 years. There was always a reason to extend the denial. Many, in fact. And being in an uncertain world, being on the road, among other things, were great rationalizations, he felt.

He's settled now, though. Took him a while to realize that, to feel completely safe, but he was. And he felt ready to maybe open up a bit. To you. Tell you things. Tommy knew, of course, and maybe Maria. Ellie, possibly, he didn’t really remember how much he told Ellie when he did. His mind was too clouded by the bottle of whiskey she had found for him to remember.

What he knew was, no one who knew had told you. If they did, you hadn’t cared enough to react to it. So, as he sat there, waiting for you to walk in through that door, he coaxed his thundering heart to be brave enough to ask you if you knew. He’s gonna start there. If you did, he’ll ask if you felt the same way, although to be perfectly honest, he’s probably not gonna want to know the answer. If you knew and did nothing, that was his answer right there.

But if you didn’t, he was going to tell you. Tonight. He was gonna tell you tonight.

He felt as if he was hot and cold and hot again all at the same time. He squirmed in his seat, feeling the butterflies in his stomach, feeling like he wanted to pee at all times, a cold breeze creeping up his back as he sat there listening to the goodbyes from across the street and the sounds of the ladies leaving for their respective homes.

Someone finally stepped on the porch, and Joel stood, hands nervously placed in his pockets. His stiff shoulders slumped when Ellie came in, tearing the black ribbons holding her hair in place as she shut the door behind her.

“Where’s Elena?”

“She’s helping Maria clean up.”

“She say what time she’ll be home?”

Ellie stood there, looking at him with frustration.

“Dude, she moved out like seven weeks ago. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

What? No. No you didn’t.

He ran upstairs and burst into your room, immediately clocking in the dusty floor and the open, empty closet. His body went cold. His head frozen.

He ran across the road, opening the front door without knocking, startling you and Diana who were picking up the last of the cups in the living room.

“You moved out?”

His eyes were on yours. Fixed on yours.

So, this was what it felt like to have Joel Miller look at you.

In that one minute of complete silence, you felt seen. He saw you. And you, him.

You had wanted this for 15 years. For Joel Miller to look you in the eyes and noticed you. And yet, here you stood, not knowing what to say to him, choosing instead to look at your own feet.

Your eyes found a compromise and you stared at the broken watch he wore instead of his eyes and nodded.

“Why?”

God, you were seething. Why? Was he serious? Was he really asking you why?

Why?

“Elena, what’s going on?” Maria’s voice interrupted you.

Before you could answer, a splashing sound disrupted the uncomfortable silence, and Maria looked at her feet in shock, before looking back up at you.

You, Diana and Joel stared at the puddle around her feet.

“Shit, I peed myself,” she said.

“No Maria, your water just broke. You’re in labour.”

---

Part 7

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fifteen | Candle Lit Christmas

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fifteen | Candle Lit Christmas

First thing the next morning, one thing was absolutely certain – it was freezing. Ashlynn huddled under her blankets in every clothing layer she possessed and still she was insufferably cold.

Were her thoughts occupied with the dangers of her interaction with the three brothers last night?

No.

Was she thinking about how to keep herself safe and to avoid any unnecessary confrontations with the three humans she had decided to trust?

No.

Was she considering the possibility of returning?

No.

All she could think about was how cold it was.

What on earth is going on? It’s absolutely frigid! Did Soren turn off the heat? Is there something wrong with the heater? Is this some kind of human ploy to get me out of the walls? What time is it even?

Ashlynn dared to poke her head out from under her layered blankets, brow and eyes instantly stiff with an unforgivable chill, as she looked around her home. It was here that something caught her eye – her lights weren’t on. The little lights she’d tapped into and borrowed from the neighboring apartments were completely out.

That’s weird. The chances of this being a simple fix dwindled fast. What made it weird was that the power for the lights came from lots of different places. If there was a short or something along those lines, just one strand would be affected. Did this mean something happened to the power in all of these places?

It was with regret and reluctance that Ashlynn bundled up and hauled herself out of her bed, the imprint of warmth left behind in a perfect silhouette of her body. She shuffled over to the plugs and places she’d wired together just in case, but found nothing in the light of her hip lamp that indicated that the wires were bad or that something had burned out. Bulbs tested. Wires checked.

Ashlynn watched her breath form a steaming fog with every breath out, and every breath in felt like she little icicles were jabbing her lungs from the inside. She quickly retreated back to the warmth and safety of her bed, relieved her warm spot was waiting for her, and extinguished her lamp.

Just a few minutes longer, and then if nothing happens I’ll go check and see if the boys are here. Maybe Soren is doing something with the electricity. Then again, I haven’t heard them all morning. Hope everything’s okay…

~~~^*^*^~~~

And, for the boys, everything was more than okay. It was great!

First thing, early in the morning, Soren woke up his brothers and showed them the fresh layer of snow spread across the yards. Layers and layers of gray snow already scraped from the road was once again concealed by a duvet of white, frozen flakes. He usually let his brothers sleep, but sledding on Christmas Eve day was too good to pass up.

So, he picked out the warmest clothes they had and bundled them up into the car to go to his favorite secret sledding spot. It was a treasured place. Sometimes hard to get to, and rarely visited since everything happened, but it didn’t diminish the special meaning it had for Soren.

The trio set out into the snow, unaware that moments after they left that the power would go out for them and the rest of their neighborhood.

“Soren? Where are we going?” asked Dorian, interrupted momentarily by a yawn, as he peered out the window.

“Sledding. I told you that,” reminded Soren as he glanced back at his brother.

“I know, but… you turn left to go to the part; or we walk. You… see? You took a right,” pointed out Dorian. Rey’s eyes gleamed as he attempted to bounce and squirm. His efforts were severely thwarted from his layers of puffy winter coats and the seatbelt protecting him.

“Oh! OH! I know! I know! We’re going to The Hill, right?” grinned the youngest brother. Soren couldn’t hide his smile.

“Maybe.”

“Oh! I knew it!” cheered Rey.

“Wait. The Hill? Really?” Dorian chimed in eagerly.

The Hill, as Soren called it, was a place that he and his parents used to go to whenever it snowed because it had the best hills, hence the name. There was a park he and his parents used to enjoy when he was younger right next to a thick, wooded area. The park was an old-fashioned one, with rusted spring bound horses and metal slides. The swing set rocked back and forth due to years of abuse and the earth leveling beneath it.

It also had the best places to sled down. Old trails took you to several quiet, steep hills. It was here that Soren and his father, Aaron, had the all-time record for hills to jump. If you started at the top of one, you could crest over some of the smaller ones beside it, and Soren and his dad had managed to make it all the way to the end during one particularly icy snowfall.

That was before he got sick…

As if the brothers behind him could read his mind, Dorian asked, “Isn’t this the place your dad brought you to?”

Soren had to clear the tension in his throat before responding, “Yes, it is.” His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror to see Rey and Dorian exchanging elated glances.

“Just like you’re dad took you!” Rey smiled. Soren swallowed hard and continued to nod rather than respond.

“But you’re not our dad,” stated Dorian in a matter-of-fact tone. It made Soren chuckle.

“No, I’m not. I’m something better – your pesky older brother,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Rey started giggling before going off into his own side tangent.

“Soren? Soren? Do… wasn’t that so funny yesterday? When Ashlynn was like, ‘Isn’t Soren your dad?’ And! And…”

“That definitely was interesting,” admitted Soren. In a way, Ashlynn wasn’t wrong to guess Soren’s roll here in the family. He had taken on quite the heavy mantle after the accident with the boys’ father and their mother. It still made his blood boil, the way it all had to happen.

Brady should’ve never been behind the wheel. Soren’s grip tightened on the wheel. Serves him right. Drunken scumbag.

He was so focused on his loathing that Soren almost missed the turn. Quick jerk to the left with a little skidding that made the boys giggle and squeal and, all of a sudden, Soren felt like he was back in a memory. He followed the unplowed road through the arcing trees up one road and down the next before, just like before, he saw the all-too-familiar sight of the place he’d adored as a child.

“We’re here!” the boys cheered in tandem.

Yes… yes we are.

“Alright you two, unbuckle and let’s get going. We have some sledding to do.”

Soren hoisted the sleds onto his back and led the way around the park, over the creek, and then began the trudge up the series of small hills. He and his brothers paused frequently, mostly because of Rey wanting to eat icicles and draw smiley faces in the undisturbed winter around them, until they saw it.

The Hill.

It towered over them, a mass of white that made both boys pause and look up with their entire bodies since their bundled bodies couldn’t simply move their neck. The motion reminded Soren of the original Batman costume, but the reference would be lost on his brothers.

Maybe we’ll watch that if they don’t want to watch something else more Christmas themed tonight. Soren thought.

“Alright. Final push, and then we slide down,” huffed Soren.

“Soren? I’m tired. Could you carry me?” asked Rey. Soren looked over his shoulder to see his brother standing pitifully in snow almost to his knees with his lower lip puckered out. Whether Rey knew it or not, Soren could never say no when his brother made that face.

“Alright. Get on,” he relented as he knelt in the snow.

“Hey! Can I go too?” Dorian asked.

Figures. I knew this would happen. I did the same thing at their ages.

“Pile on!”

It took some finagling, but Soren managed to get both his brothers onto his back while dragging the sled behind. With both boys secure and Soren realizing this was going to be quite the challenge, the eldest forced his quaking knees to push him upright as he began the climb. The boys knew better than to flail and bounce. They knew Soren would make them walk if they weren’t going to behave themselves, so they remained motionless and fastened tight, clutching onto Soren’s shoulders for dear life.

Step after step, Soren ascended The Hill.

Each step made Soren feel stationary. No matter how much he pumped his legs, the top was nowhere to be found. He didn’t relent. Everything worth having was worth working for, and his brothers deserved this. Finally, out of breath and a bit achy, Soren crested over the top and partially as a joke and partially because his legs were screaming in protest, fell face first in the snow.

“Soren! Are you okay?” Rey squeaked.

“Did you get hurt?” asked Dorian immediately after. Soren rolled over and, in the blink of an eye, had grabbed his brothers and rolled them into the snow. The chorus of laughter erupted as the three were now covered in snow.

“Ugh, just crushed by you two. When did you decide to get so big?” groaned Soren as their laughter died down. The boys opened their mouths to protest, but paused as they saw the look in their brother’s eyes. It was unidentifiable for the youngsters, but it was unlike any way he’d looked at them before. Pride? Nostalgia? Realization?

Their mom had that look a few times…

As fast as the moment came, it went and soon Soren was on his feet and setting up their three person sled.

“Okay, Rey first, Dorian, and then me. Let’s go!” Soren’s commanding voice set the boys to action immediately. If only I could get them to do chores that easily, thought Soren sarcastically. Snow crunched under their feet as they assumed the correct order. The oldest remembered how his father did it, and now he was going to do the same. “Alright. Hang on tight and don’t lean, bounce, or let your feet drag. Ready? Set!” On “Go,” Soren pulled the sled back and ran with it, only jumping on at the last moment as it careened off of the edge.

The boys’ squeals were caught in the top of their throat as the frigid wind whipped past their faces. They held on tight, death gripping the edge of the sled by the improvised handles Soren made for them last Christmas. The weightlessness carried them down the hill and over the first two bumps before sliding to a stop on the third.

Almost! Thought Soren. Gotta get the record though. Not worth the trip without it.

He turned around and, using the handle, began dragging his brothers back up the series of hills. Thankfully, the boys didn’t make the next few climbs difficult, stomping through the snow beside Soren instead of getting a free ride off of his back. It wasn’t until the fifth try that, finally, the snow was flat enough for them to make a proper run of it.

“Ready? Set! GO!” Soren sprinted as he pushed the sled, his muscles aching in the cold, as he leapt on at the last moment. They soared over the first hill and the second, caught air on the third, and coasted through the last one all the way to the tree line before coming to a skidding stop right before the creek.

“We did it! We did it!” cheered Rey, bounding like a puppy in the snow with Dorian cheering right beside him.

Yeah… we did. See that mom? Dad? Keeping the tradition alive.

“Ready for another round?”

“Yeah!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

Hours passed in the freezing cold before, finally, the boys returned home. Everything felt numb, but neither boy could stop talking about what an awesome time they had. Now, a promise of hot chocolate and a warm bath lured them back to the car to make the drive home.

Soren had to admit that he could also use some time in a nice hot shower, but hot chocolate and getting the boys warm took precedent. They would pass out like played out puppies and nap the moment Soren left them alone for more than a minute, and it would be better if they were already PJ’d up and ready for a night in than trying to wake them later.

They rounded the final corner to their neighborhood and up to their place. Soren tapped the garage door and, to their surprise, nothing happened. Twice. Three times. Nothing. Soren put the car in park and stepped up to the keypad to press the frozen through buttons when he noticed the light failed to come on.

“Oh no,” he grumbled. This wasn’t good. He tried once more, just to be safe, and sadly received the same result.

The power was out.

How long has it been out? We’ve been gone for a while. Please tell me the pipes haven’t frozen. Looks like it’s improv time.

“Soren? Is everything okay?” Dorian had unbuckled himself and was leaning out of the car, concern etching its way into his thawing features.

“Maybe. I think the power’s out. Storm must’ve taken out the power lines and the generators,” replied Soren, who returned to the car and shut it off. “We’ll have to go in through the front. Come on.”

He guided the boys inside and, to keep them from tracking in snow, quickly undressed at the front door step so he was in nothing but his long pants and long sleeved shirt before picking up one boy and then the next, shoving them in the garage to rid themselves of their snow covered gear. The moment he stepped inside, Soren could’ve sworn he could see his breath. Evidently, the power had been out for a while, and that wasn’t good. The emergency flashlights flooded the room with small beacons of light, but that was all with the blinds closed and curtains drawn.

At least I remembered to keep the curtains sealed. It would be unbearable if I’d thrown open the blinds first thing.

He was prepared, as always, for emergencies, but it would add time and, sadly, the boys wouldn’t be getting a bath today unless the power came back on. Jammies on the boys and his own gear drying in the garage, Soren set to work.

“Soren? Why is it so cold in here?” asked Rey as he shivered and pulled his sleeves over his fingers.

“Well,” sighed Soren as he grabbed one of his own jackets and slid it onto his brother, instantly dwarfing the youngster, before pulling up the hood to cover his head. “When the power goes out, that means there’s no electricity. The heater runs off of electricity, so no power means no heat.” Soren pulled Dorian closer and slipped one of his jackets on him, zipping up the front all the way to Dorian’s chin.

“So… does that mean…” Soren knew where Rey was going with this.

“Yes. Operation Survival. You know where the flashlights are,” grinned Soren, biting back a shiver as he pulled a hoodie over his head.

“Yeah! Tent city! Campfire burner! Candles and fire! Let’s go!” Dorian cheered as he and Rey scampered off.

“Flashlights first!” Soren called. He rolled his eyes and stared at the kitchen sink, daring to reach forward and flicking the tap on.

Nothing.

Curses. Either the pipes are frozen or the backup generator is out too.

Soren crouched and opened the cabinet to see if he could find any signs of freezing pipes when he heard something on top of the counter directly behind him.

“S-s-soren?”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ashlynn bundled in blankets to the point he could only make out part of her face.

“Ashlynn, hey,” he breathed.

“Wh-what’s g-going on?” Ashlynn’s teeth were chattering hard. “Is the p-power out?” A million things were going on in his mind to help get everything prepared for a potential power outage long haul, but pausing for a second to explain wouldn’t do any harm.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Soren grumbled. “Usually, there are generators and stuff to kick everything back on, but this snow storm must be hitting a lot of people all at once. So, we’re going into what myself and the boys affectionately call ‘Survival mode.’ We’ve also called it pioneer night, but operation survival motivates the boys.”

“Ah, I s-s-see,” muttered Ashlynn. “Explains the c-cold.”

“Oh… oh yeah, wow. So… gosh yeah, that would probably affect you more than any of us since you probably don’t have access to direct heat, huh.” Soren saw the small woman nod sheepishly. I couldn’t imagine not having access to electricity and modern tech. Basically every night is like pioneer night for someone like her. Soren shuddered to think of what it would be like to have to take care of him and his brothers if he were Ashlynn’s size with basically nothing to his name.

It made his heart ache, but then an idea hit him.

“Well, I don’t know what your plans are for the evening, but you’re welcome to join us. Dorian and Rey are going to be back here in a second and I’m going to set them on tent duty, which is basically a giant fort made of blankets so we can all be together and keep warm if the power doesn’t come back on. If you want to join them, I’m sure they’d love to have you,” suggested Soren. “Or not. Whatever you prefer. You might’ve just come down to figure out what was going on.”

“And… what are you doing?” asked Ashlynn.

“Me? Checking for leaks and breaks in the water pipes, but I don’t see any here and I can’t do much else except wait and see if there are any leaks,” replied Soren as he ducked back into the cabinet and, using his keen eyes, started seeking for any seam splits.

“Why can’t you do much else? Why wait?” asked Ashlynn, who knew the dangers of water leaking for more reasons than one. If there was a leak in the pipes, walls and floors were instantly torn up. She’d seen it happen to a friend’s family when they were growing up, and they had to move shortly after. The damage water could do was also dangerous. It could lead to mold and would ruin everything if not dealt with properly.

“Well, a lot of that stuff is either under the house where I can’t reach it right now or it’s in the walls,” explained Soren. It was like a bolt of lightning struck them both, giving the same idea at the same time. “Ashlynn…”

“Soren… er…” They accidentally started talking at the same time. They both chuckled as Soren gestured for Ashlynn to go first. “Well… if you need someone to check the walls, I could do that. It’s easy enough. I’ve already mapped out most of the pipes and stuff. It’s how I… well… er… let’s just say I know how to check for that kind of stuff.”

Soren’s smile was nearly from ear to ear.

“That would be great. Seriously, Ashlynn, thank you.” It felt like a boulder had been lifted off of Soren’s chest. With Ashlynn checking the walls, I can get everything else going. If she finds something, it’ll be a quick fix. If not, I’ll know it’s a generator. “Come back as soon as you’re done.”

“Sure,” Ashlynn replied. It was the first time she actually felt useful, like she was paying back a debt that wasn’t being asked for.

She’d almost made it to the walls when she heard Soren’s soft, “Oh.” She paused and looked back at him. “By the way, what kind of hot chocolate do you like? Have you… had it before?” Ashlynn had heard of this drink, but had never had a chance to borrow any. So, she shook her head. “Little of a few different ones then. Good to know. Thanks.”

Ashlynn clicked on her hip lamp and, like the shadow she was, slipped into the darkness in search of a leak.

Soren, in the meantime, gathered up a few pots and set them on the gas stove to start boiling snow for hand washing and other miscellaneous things. He had drinking water reserved in the closet and the garage. He retrieved the electric generators from the shelves and set to work making a big bowl of ramen for lunch and then soup for dinner.

When he told the boys Ashlynn would be joining them, they just about lost their minds.

“Twice? In two days!” They cheered as they set to work on the tent, saying, “Let’s make this one the best one ever so Ashlynn will be impressed. She’s probably never been in a fort before.”

Ashlynn determinedly began scouring the walls for every water pipe she could remember in the apartment. Up walls. Down corridors. She placed her hands on each frigid pipe and examined it up one side and down the other looking for bulges or poking out ice. She even made sure her area was secure before snagging a few things she would need if she was going to spend the evening with Soren and his brothers.

Brothers. Ridiculous. I should’ve seen it. They just… whatever. They look related, but not by much. Dorian and Rey must take after their actual father or Soren just really takes after his. Ashlynn crouched and flipped over some of the nearby pipes when she heard something.

*Hiss… Drip… Drip…. Drip…*

Everything stopped. She held her breath. Every little motion froze in place. Ashlynn listened as hard as she could, turning her head one way and then the other to tell where it was coming from. She picked up the pace, following the sound down one corridor and having to crawl on all fours under a support beam, but still finding nothing.

“Well, shoot,” she muttered, hands on her hips and reaching up to scratch the back of her neck. “Where are you? Sounds like it’s coming from… hm…”

She had an idea.

Ashlynn had a good sense of direction, and she knew this part of the house was near the outside of the house. If I’m right… Ashlynn slid down a line she’d secured when she first arrived in case of emergencies and, instantly, felt the bitter cold freezing her solid. It was the passage that led to the outside, and she was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea.

Just a peak. Just a pe-AK! Ashlynn was halfway down the line when, suddenly, her foot hit solid ice. The jolt made her lose her grip and, as she slid down the rest of the line, she saw the culprit.

The water hose on the outside had indeed burst, and the spray had coated her emergency line in a thin coating of ice. Ashlynn plummeted straight down into a frozen mud pit, water spraying over her and into her hair. The wind kicked up again, sending millions of tiny snowflakes rushing right past her. The frigid air nearly brought Ashlynn to her knees once she was upright again.

Shoot! This is bad. Curses! Of course this happens to me. Ashlynn thought as she wiped the mud on her pants. She thanked her lucky stars she had her spare line and didn’t have to spend any time knocking the ice off of her safety line. It was that one more second that she needed to get inside instead of sitting outside freezing to death.

Though it took a bit longer to get inside because of her mud slicked hands and pants, Ashlynn was finally back inside and certain the pipes were alright.

“Great. Now I just have to get back and be a muddy mess for the rest of the night,” mumbled Ashlynn as she made the long slog back to her bag and the electrical cover on the counter.

~~~^*^*^~~~

“What happened?!” Soren’s voice was saturated with concern as he watched Ashlynn march back onto the counter, mud and ice on her clothes and in her hair. “Are you okay? Did you find a leak? Gosh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine, Soren,” Ashlynn interrupted, feeling a bit flustered that Soren was fussing over her so much; not that she minded. In fact, she kind of liked it. She reached up and scratched the back of her neck, body still shivering from her exposure to the outside world. “Really. I just need to change and I’ll be good. On the positive side, at least we know it’s just a split hose outside and not something in the house.”

Soren sighed, right hand reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, before glancing over at the lit stove where he had successfully melted several bowls of snow.

“Well, at the very least you can wash off that mud if you want. I’ve got some warm water here, and we’ll give you the bathroom to get changed and everything,” said Soren. The mention of warm water instantly made Ashlynn’s body tingle. She’d only ever had warm baths here, and she liked the experience. “Though technically, if you’re cold, it’s skin to skin that is recommended, but…”

Ashlynn didn’t hear the rest. Her ears instantly started ringing and her cheeks began burning hotter than her candle burning stove at the thought of skin to skin with Soren. Gosh! What’s wrong with me?!

“Ashlynn?”

The Borrower woman startled as she suddenly realized Soren’s hand was only a few inches from her. She looked down at his hand and then back up to his features, only now noticing the bowl of steaming water in his left hand.

“Is that… something you’d like?” he asked.

She swallowed hard and, realizing he was talking about the bath, nodded bashfully and stepped onto his fingers as she snagged her bag with her spare clothes in it. The heat radiating off of his palm was soothing, and she was tempted to see if she could just sit there and keep warm. The Borrower thought better of it and let Soren carry her to the bathroom, which was lit with candles.

“Um… there’s soap here and give a shout or come into the living room when you’re done. I’ll leave the door open a crack for you,” stated Soren as his hand glided down to the surface of the countertop to set her down.

“Th-thank you,” she mumbled as she disembarked and watched Soren go. Good grief! I can’t blank out and think about something as ridiculous as skin to skin with a human! What on earth is wrong with me?! Even if I took him up on that, he probably is treating me like he would a little sister. He treats his brothers with this same care. Good grief! What am I even thinking?

Ashlynn stripped and slid into the warm water, dunking herself in the hopes that warm water would cool her head.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Twenty or so minutes later, Ashlynn was squeaky clean with fresh clothes and clean ones drying on the edge of the sink. After getting clean, she scrubbed her clothes free of mud and set them out so she’d have something to get into later if she had another wardrobe malfunction.

Then, she wandered into the living room to see what exactly this “fort” was supposed to look like; and, in all actuality, it looked like a Borrower fort. The blankets were ramshackle and pinned in every which way between the two couches, which were now facing one another instead of being perpendicular. Other blankets and something that looked like foam were on the ground in between the two couches. There were also miscellaneous games and padded boxes that Ashlynn didn’t recognize, but one thing she did know for certain.

Heat was coming from somewhere. Based on the mild glow and the cord going from it to one of those padded boxes, Ashlynn guessed it was the reason there was any semblance of warmth anywhere here.

“Ashlynn!” Dorian’s face peered out from under one of the blankets on the couch as he gave a little wave. “Do you like it? It’s not done, but it will be. Want a grand tour?” Ashlynn spotted Soren not too far away unrolling some kind of plastic thing, so she elected to nod.

Dorian slipped out from the blankets and was at her side in a few simple steps, something Ashlynn would’ve had to short distance sprint to cross in the same amount of time.

“Okay, here you have the grand foyer. This is where we’ll have food and play some games and where the heater is pointed. That’s that thing over there,” Dorian explained.

“Heater? I thought…” Ashlynn’s confusion was evident and Rey, who was carrying in more blankets from Soren’s room, dropped everything to answer.

“Yeah! It needs electricity, but Soren has that covered. This thing here. It’s called a generator. It is like a big battery that Soren keeps charged in case we lose power. It also plays music and can make emergency Morse code signals if we’re in danger.” Rey was beaming with pride at his concise answer, and it earned him a scrutinized look from his brother.

“I was gonna explain that,” complained Dorian. “Any-who! That one there is my couch, so that’s where I’ll sleep. And that one there is Rey’s couch. That’s where he’ll sleep. He’ll probably also lose some of his toys in there because he always loses his toys in the couch.”

“I do not! Not always,” Rey claimed indignantly. “I can’t help it if I like working on my inventions before bed and… well… sometimes I fall asleep and sometimes things fall out of my hands, but that’s part of being an inventor, which… OH! It’s Christmas Eve! We can give you your thing!”

Rey scampered off while Dorian continued to talk about the entrance and how it’s important to have blankets in a particular order because, otherwise, you’ll still be cold even under a mountain of blankets. To Ashlynn’s surprise, she actually found this useful.

By the time Rey returned, Soren had lunch in bowls for all of them, even Ashlynn, as well as a cup of hot chocolate for each of them. It was the first time Ashlynn ever had anything like it. It was warm and sweet and made her insides toasty like warm soup. And then adding marshmallows? Something else she’d never tried?

A Borrower could die happy if this was their last meal.

They finished lunch and played a few games, which Dorian and Rey barely made it through because they were exhausted from sledding, and then decided to lay down while Soren cleaned up. It was admirable, seeing the way Soren diligently tended to his brothers, and Ashlynn couldn’t stop herself from staring as Soren came back and practically collapsed onto something they called an “air mattress.”

But it’s not made of air… just filled with it… whatever.

It was when they woke up that the real, as Rey called them, “reindeer games” actually started. They took turns having Ashlynn on their team as they played things like “Cadoo,” more Pictionary, Jenga which Ashlynn was especially good at since she could climb and maneuver the pieces so well, and a few others Ashlynn hadn’t heard of.

It was only after dinner, yet another meal Ashlynn found herself groaning over, that they celebrated Christmas Eve. Soren did something called praying, which Ashlynn had seen some other humans do, before he retrieved several boxes from under the tree, each wrapped in green or red wrapping paper. He handed three each to the boys and, to Ashlynn’s surprise, one to her.

“Sorry I don’t have the same to give like I do the boys,” apologized Soren. “It’s what I could come up with in time.” It was a beautifully wrapped blue package that was about as tall and as wide as herself. She worried it would be too big to bring back to her own home, but banished those thoughts as she poked a hole in the paper and tore away the sides.

It was a massive, fuzzy blanket with an elegant “A” stitched into the side which was about the size of her hand. One side was a blue checkered flannel and the other was a cloud like fluffy material that was softer than anything Ashlynn had ever touched before in her life.

“Y-you… made this? For me?” she asked, craning her neck to look up into Soren’s golden hazel eyes. The illumination of the flashlights and candles only accentuated the flecks of green in them.

“Yeah,” Soren muttered as he reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry it’s not much. But…”

“I love it. I… I just…”

“Wait! What about ours!” Rey interrupted as he quickly snagged a flashlight and darted into the darkness of his bedroom.

“Mine too!” Dorian called as he raced after his brother.

Soren chuckled, completely unaware that they’d managed to pull something together, when he heard a little sniff by his knee. He honed in his attention onto Ashlynn, who was clutching the blanket to her chest and shivering slightly.

“Hey… Ashlynn. Are you okay? Did we… do something wrong?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and along her sleeve. Her voice barely carried through the air, and Soren had to leave over to hear Ashlynn’s mumblings.

“I just… I haven’t don’t anything to deserve this. You’re all just being… being so kind. It’s something I would never have thought a human would do for a B…” Ashlynn stopped herself short before continuing, not finishing the word she had in mind. “You know? You hear these stories about others getting captured or killed. It just makes you so afraid, and then someone like you comes along… all three of you… it’s just…”

“It’s a lot?” Soren ventured a guess after Ashlynn was silent for a minute. When she nodded, he continued. “Yeah, I can understand that. And, please, if this is too much all at once you can just tell us. It’s okay.”

“See? Stuff like that. You’re all just so understanding. I just… I wish there were more humans out there like you. I’d even take more like you for my kind if I’m being honest.” Soren felt a rush of flattery making the tips of his ears burn. It was nice to know his efforts were worth it and that she wasn’t feeling hostile or as secretive anymore.

“Well, as long as you’re comfortable, you’re always welcome. It’s quick, but it definitely feels like you’ve joined the crew, if that’s what you want,” offered Soren. Ashlynn, emotions running wild like a rampant tornado in a jar, found herself nodding. It had been so long since she’d been a part of something – part of a family – and having it happen so quickly only affirmed in her mind that it was meant to be.

“We’re back! Here, Ashlynn! Open mine first.”

“No, me!”

Dorian and Rey both presented their gifts, which were, at the very least, good efforts that showcased the boys’ charm. Dorian had made something that looked like a coat rack out of some pencils and rubber bands. He also claimed it could function as a makeshift tent as he draped a blanket over the edges.

Rey, on the other hand, had managed to create a type of “quick descending” device using a skillcraft lanyard zip and some extra fishing hooks. He was also working on a quick ascension device, but he was having trouble getting it to not lock up.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” It was true. Ashlynn felt at a loss for words to show her gratitude, but an idea came to mind that she knew she had to act on. She stood and, to each of the boys, she went over and hugged their fingers, seeing that was the only part of them she could actually get her hands around. Despite her body shaking with excitement and so many other emotions, she managed to hug and thank each of the brothers.

Soren’s gifts to the boys included one toy they’d both been asking for separately, which was a Lego set of their choosing, something that interested them independently, music box mixing for Dorian and an electronics kit for Rey, and something they could do together, which was two new card games. In exchange, Dorian gave Soren a tool kit with medical and practical supplies, which Soren knew he was getting since he purchased it, and Rey gifted him some homemade flashlight gloves and matching head mount for his flashlights.

So… this is Christmas. I like it, Ashlynn thought as she watched the brothers hug. They crawled into their prospective beds not too long after and, using her new “tent,” Ashlynn found herself turning in for bed too. Both Dorian and Rey were breathing softly in their makeshift beds under a warmed tent, obviously knocked out from the events of the day. Ashlynn wasn’t far behind. Her eyes were just beginning to unfocus when she heard Soren’s signature cough.

“Hey, Ashlynn? You awake?” asked Soren.

“Mm-hmm, yeah,” she replied, sleep saturating her voice. How much time had passed since the boys had fallen asleep? Was Ashlynn asleep? Or that odd twilight between awake and not?

“Thanks for spending Christmas with us, and thanks for checking out the house. You really saved a lot of time and eased my mind at least, and I know the boys would say they had a great time with you tonight. So, thanks.”

Soren’s voice was growing fainter with each passing word until he completely drifted off to sleep. Ashlynn wasn’t far behind. Sleep played at the edges of her vision, eyelids lulling like shades that wouldn’t pull down. Up. Down. Further down. Up again. Closed. Up.

Sleep beckoned her with open arms as she nestled deeper into the cocoon she’d made from the blanket Soren gifted to her. Weightless. Effortless.

It was everything she’d always wanted – to be part of a fam-…

*WHAM*

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[gayczennie]

Forever ago I said I’d write this oneshot for Johnny, but I haven’t been in the headspace to write for a while. Today I randomly felt the inspiration to write a bit. I apologize if it doesn’t read well, I may or may not have written it while high af. It took way longer than I thought it would to lead into the actual sex part of the story, so there’s not really any smut in this yet. I’ll try to return later and write the actual smut later, but in the mean time enjoy whatever this is 🤩

Johnny x male reader

General summary: Johnny jerks you off after practice as a reward for getting through a really long day despite being super sore from yesterday’s activities

Reader is having a really hard time keeping it together with all the stress of being an idol

Johnny has been mentoring him and helping him get into shape

Johnny drags him to the car straight after practice seeing that reader is on the verge of breaking down

“Fuck this is exhausting!” you exclaim pushing back your hair that’s sticking to your forehead from all the sweat. “I don’t know why this choreography just isn’t getting through my head. And I’m tired and sore and I just wanna be done for the day so bad!!” Your throat stings from all the cardio you’ve been getting and your thighs shake under you, threatening to give way and send you collapsing onto the floor. You’d been obsessing over looking perfect for the performance that’s quickly approaching. Every free second of the day was spent in a practice room or with Jonny at the gym. He’d been so patient with you the last two weeks, really taking you under his wing. Johnny had made it his personal mission to get you whipped into shape before the upcoming reward show stage with the rest of NCT 127. The two of you had spent a lot of time together recently and you were of course naturally becoming closer. Johnny was harsh on you though, always manhandling your body into the correct form whether you were lifting weights improperly at the gym or doing the choreo slightly wrong. It had left you feeling a weird mix of admiration for the man mixed with a slight fear of his stearnness… and maybe, just maybe, it made you feel a tiny bit turned on feeling his harsh glare and his strong hands around your body guiding you to where you needed to be…

“You done complaining y/n?” asks Johnny from his place on the floor in front of you. He sits in front of the practice room mirror where he’s been for the last 3 hours straight helping you drill your choreography. “I know you’ve been working hard all day baby. But I think you can nail it if you go one or two more times y/n.” Fuck did he just say baby? Did you hear him right?. Maybe the tension you’d been feeling between the two of you the last couple weeks wasn’t all in your head after all. Too exhausted and sore to get your hopes up just yet though, you respond in a whining voice“Johnny I can’t. My whole body hurts and I can barely even move anymore. What’s the point? The performance is so soon anyways I’m not gonna get any better.” You expect Johnny to scold you and tell you to run it again, but instead you see a glimmer in his eyes and the start of a smirk spreading across his face. “Keep going until I tell you it’s satisfactory, and I’ll surprise you with a reward baby. How does that sound?” There it was again. “Baby”. You were certainly intrigued to say the least. Before you even have a chance to respond, Johnny hits play on the music again and you get back into position for another shot at the choreo.

Your legs are still shaking, but you do your best to keep it together and run the song again. Every ounce of your concentration goes into perfecting the dance, hoping that this will finally be the last run through. You put on your best show and move with every bit of energy you’ve got left, sweat spraying across the room as you move to the beat. Finally, the song’s end comes to an end and you finish and then fall to the ground. Rolling over onto your back, you peer up at the ceiling through hooded eyes and Johnny moves into your field of vision. His head hovers over you, making his necklace dangle over your face. “I won’t lie to you, you still have more work to do y/n. But you’re getting better for sure. You worked hard today and you looked good doing it. Come on” he said, holding a hand out to you to help you off the floor. You ignore his outreached hand and instead meet his eyes and ask “Johnny. Is it really still bad? Be honest. I need to know if it sucked”. Tears prickle at your eyes and Johnny’s smirk down at you on the ground quickly fades. He scoops you up onto your feet and places his hands on your shoulders. “Y/n. You don’t suck at all. It was really fucking good! I’m just being hard on you because I wanted you to keep improving. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Somehow Johnny’s words of encouragement make you feel worse, as if he’s lying to you just to make you feel better. “Baby don’t worry about it ok. You looked really good. Like I said before. How about that reward?” He tilts your head up at him and you notice that same glimmer enter his eyes again. It hits you too that he’s got his hands on you again, manipulating your movement the way he so often does. You let him grab your hand and guide you toward the door to finally leave the SM building. The two of you walk toward his car in the parking lot to go home, but to your surprise Johnny leads you both toward the back doors of the car instead of the driver’s and passenger’s seats. “Are we not going home? Johnny I’m so exhausted and I just wanna lie down and cr-

Your words are cut off as Johnny shuts the door and aggressively presses his lips against yours. You’re a little caught off guard at first, after all you didn’t even know if he was gay, but it doesn’t take any convincing for you to kiss him back passionately. Johnny’s hands waste no time exploring your body, and settling around your waist where he can easily control your small body against his. Pulling back a little, Johnny is the first to speak. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that y/n. Watching you train at the gym and in the studio has been turning me on for the longest time.” You smack his chest and ask him “why did you wait so long to do anything about it? You think I’m not thinking the same thing staring at your muscles every day? Or feeling your hands around my waist while we work on the dance? I’ve been spending all this time worrying and feeling stupid and you were interested in me the whole time??”

“I was waiting until I was sure you felt the same way” He shrugged. “What the fuck Johnny. I’ve been trying to hide a boner like ten times a day because of yo- He cuts you off again with a kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth, exploring a bit, while one arm wraps around your lower back. He lowers you down on your back in the backseat while continuing his attack on your lips. “You taste salty” he whispers as he pulls away slightly to remove his shirt. The sight of Johnny’s impressive muscles makes your dick jump in your pants. For once, you do nothing to hide it. You want to fuck Johnny. And it looks like he wants to fuck you too

To be continued.

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Whore AU - Voryn I

Author's Note: no nsft yet, but this girl getting collared.

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

To the chief of the False Gods,

Consider the yearly offering no longer necessary. The one last sent has proven to be more valuable than first expected.

Vivec sucked in a sharp breath. No. This was not happening. Further investigation of the whore's background had given more hints, hints he REALLY thought the Temple should have noticed when investigating her in the first place. The corprus infection and recovery should have been noticed. SOMEONE should have seen something!

He went on reading and ignored certain insults. What came next was more alarming anyway.

Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur, will offer you a six-month truce under one condition: Send Nerevar's bones, of which we are certain you are possessed, to Kogoruhn.

Vivec waited until he was sure he was alone and screamed. He didn't have these outbursts as a rule, because they didn't help solve the situation...but it was impossible not to. They'd handed the Nerevarine to Dagoth Ur, offered unknowingly that very thing which drove him to do all that he did.

And it had been a whore. A fucking WHORE. Someone who had no reason not to accept some sort of counter-offer, someone who had admitted to the Temple she wouldn't mind getting out of the life. Or perhaps Dagoth Ur was simply refusing to let her leave - either way the result was the same.

The Sharmat had Nerevar back, and they had no choice but to send him the bones. Six months - they could do a lot with six months of truce.

Vivec took a deep breath and started a letter he would later hand to an ordinator, regarding a certain hidden chamber in the Puzzle Canal.

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

Nerevar, sweet Nerevar had returned, practically been handed to him on a sacrificial platter, and here he was completely unprepared for it! Perhaps the woman was, too--she seemed aware of what was going on, yet confused about what it meant. She obeyed the commands the same as Nerevar always had, with the same eagerness - there was an echo there, the presence he meant to swell in its appearance.

The ash creatures were going through the several boxes of things - things left from the First Era, that had been carefully preserved. A few random robes (he would take one of those, too), old relics of House Dagoth miraculously preserved through the end of the First and the entire Second Era, collected.

But until he reached into the box and pulled out that strip of leather with the brass buckle on it, he was not content.

"Nerevar has returned to us," he said, directing his words to the ash creatures standing and watching him, "And this will be celebrated appropriately - but tomorrow."

He looked at the strip of leather.

"Tonight I do not wish to be disturbed."

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

Sadara had no idea what was going on. She'd been kneeling for five minutes now and still Dagoth Ur hadn't returned. Perhaps this was part of his request...or his desire...he wanted to be waited on somehow. The roleplaying of being above her, even though he already was. Perhaps he meant to catch a worshiper at pray, sort of thing.

Just as she was thinking of getting back up, she heard footsteps and lowered her head.

"What is your name? Where have you lived?"

"Sadara," she said. "From Cyrodiil, but I lived in Ebonheart."

"Dragon-born, and far-star marked..." Dagoth Ur said it softly as he approached. "You have read the prophecies, I assume."

"No," she said, "People talk of them, but I've never read them. No point in it, considering..."

"As it turns out, there is every reason for you to have done so."

He stopped beside her.

"If I know who and what you are," he said, "It is no doubt that the Temple does as well. What have you told them?"

What was going on? Was this part of his little game? They'd discussed nothing as she'd done with the other brothers.

"I told one person I'd had corprus, but...I joked that I got better. And I turned down the potions of Cure Disease they offered me," she said, still not looking up.

"So they will know." There was a pause as he crouched beside her.

She shivered.

"What I want," he said, "Is what I had with Nerevar. You comprehend?"

"Somewhat. I don't--understand very well what's been happening. The commands in Ald Chimeris..."

Dagoth Ur spoke quietly as he reached out to wrap that strip of leather about her neck, and then fastened it, "Nerevar enjoyed very much being taken care of. As King he had always to be in control, to give commands to his people and his armies. It was to me he came when he needed to be free of that stress."

"What was the command that--?"

"Sit, boy." He stroked her hair, and then stood back up again. "The final test, the test that proved to me that you are what you are. That you are Nerevar, come back to me. No one else would react to those words that way, but Nerevar. Or his incarnate."

"The--Temple is going to kill me." She shivered again.

"No, no, we can't have that." A dark little chuckle came then, and he stood back up. "You clearly need this as much as Nerevar did. Now."

His tone shifted and he spoke in what she assumed was Ald Chimeris again.

"Follow."

Clearly, this was going to be a long night.

[cbk1000]

Here is another preview of that sequel to the fic where two morons run around in the Yorkshire countryside not cottoning on to the fact that they have enormous crushes on one another:

By the time they had made themselves appropriate for public consumption, meaning that one of them was no longer sporting some sex hair, and the other was sporting no more than a manageable semi, the usual suspect had arrived, though they had driven all that way in sunlight. It was not like one of those ghastly outings on the moors, where the rain was driving as hard as the plough horse; this was one of those considerate rains, which had laid itself like a filter on the landscape. It had blurred out what was hard or no-nonsense about the land, and made it a thing which was for that frivolous purpose of beauty: in the lake was a watercolour of the castle, and beyond it the oak trees which might have been stern in their aeons were now like approachable elders. There was no naked eye which could fathom where the grounds were ended; and in the midst of them it seemed like all the world went on like that, that they had gone from that quiet civilisation through which they had driven in the daytime to this utopia in the gloaming. It was not yet noon; but already the world seemed to be on the cusp of itself; to be in the grey rainlight melting back into that land which is shortly to be under the moon.

“Hold hands, or no?” Merlin asked, shrugging on his jacket, which he did by getting in one arm reasonably enough, and then flapping about like a moron seeking the other. 

“For God’s sake,” Arthur said, and stuffed it in for him, and then, clearing his throat, answered the question by grabbing Merlin’s hand with a minimal secretion of sweat; then he saw his father coming across the lawns, and made a liar of the previous clause.

“I’ll bite him in a heartbeat; just say the word,” Merlin said under his breath, and then his father and the man he was walking with were within earshot, and Arthur was not certain whether to clutch or drop Merlin’s hand. There was an impulse almost to throw it; and with a bloody-minded grimness he held onto it, feeling it was the only thing anyone would see in all that beauty. His father’s face tightened, and smoothed; and he said to his companion as all four stopped, “David, this is my son, Arthur, and Arthur’s friend. Arthur, this is David, the groom’s father.”

“This is Merlin, my boyfriend,” Arthur said stiffly through his teeth. 

David took it neatly in stride; and said without any acknowledgement of Uther’s omission or Arthur’s resentment, “You’re Lisa’s cousin, then? Nice to meet you both. Are you the veterinarian chap? I thought Lisa mentioned Arthur was dating a vet.”

“Yeah. I work for a surgery in Emberford. It’s my uncle’s practice; I moved down a year and a half or so ago to take over a lot of the livestock work, since he’s starting to get on a bit.”

“Well, listen, not to bother you on your holiday, but we’ve brought our dog, actually, my wife and I, and she seems a bit poorly this morning. Would you mind taking a look?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Thanks; Uther, nice chatting with you, but I’m going to nip in and steal these blokes for a moment. Sorry, my wife just adores her, and she’s been fretting all morning.” And he broke off from Uther’s side, and settled in at theirs. They went striding away in the mist, which was beginning to style Merlin’s hair though he himself hadn’t bothered; and as they left his father behind, Merlin began to trot out the usual line of questioning, asking about any changes in her behaviour, and what might possibly have preceded them. Then David, checking over his shoulder said, “Oh, no, she’s perfectly in trim. Just thought it was a real cock move, wasn’t it, saying you were his friend and not even telling me your name? Can’t stand that sort of rubbish; it’s the fucking twenty-first century, is it not?  But listen, Sheila, that’s the dog, would be absolutely chuffed to meet you lads, so come on and I’ll introduce you, and then I’ve got to get changed. My wife’s already sent me four texts.”

“We would be chuffed to meet Sheila,” Merlin said cheerfully.

[drewswife]

warnings — fluff and angst

summary —  Chris found Aurora pregnancy test in the bathroom…….. shes 3 weeks  

a/n: part 2 

The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the room. Chris lay awake beside Aurora, her soft snores a comforting rhythm. He couldn't stop thinking about the pregnancy test. Three weeks. It still felt surreal.

He gently traced the curve of her cheek with his finger, his heart swelling with a mix of joy and fear. What if they weren't ready? What if they couldn't give this child the life it deserved?

He remembered his parents, always stressed, always working. He didn't want that for his own child. He wanted to be there for every milestone, every scraped knee, every first day of school.

A sob escaped Aurora's lips, and she stirred in her sleep. Chris pulled her close, his hand finding its way to her stomach.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "It's okay."

She mumbled something in her sleep, her grip tightening on him. He held her close, the warmth of her body radiating through him.

He knew he had to tell her. He couldn't keep this secret from her any longer. But he also knew he had to be careful. He didn't want to scare her, to overwhelm her.

He decided to wait until after breakfast, when they could talk calmly. He would tell her about the test, about his fears and his hopes. He would tell her that he loved her more than anything in the world, and that he was in this with her, no matter what.

As he lay there, listening to Aurora's steady breathing, he realized that his life was about to change forever. And for the first time, he felt a wave of excitement wash over him. He was going to be a father.

The smell of pancakes filled the kitchen, a comforting aroma that usually brought a smile to Aurora's face. But today, a cloud of worry hung over her. She'd woken up with a strange feeling, a mix of excitement and fear.

She glanced at Chris, who was flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. His fluffy brown hair was still damp from the shower, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. He looked so peaceful, so content.

She wanted to tell him, to share the news with him. But the fear held her back. What if he wasn't happy? What if he thought they weren't ready?

"Something on your mind, sweetheart?" Chris asked, noticing her hesitation.

Aurora took a deep breath. "Actually, there is," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I found something in the bathroom yesterday."

Chris's smile faltered. "Something...?"

Aurora nodded, her eyes fixed on her plate. "A pregnancy test."

The silence that followed was deafening. Chris stopped flipping pancakes, his hand hovering over the griddle. He turned to face her, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Are you...are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Aurora nodded again, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's positive, Chris. Three weeks."

Chris stared at her, his mind racing. Three weeks. It wasn't a mistake. It was real. They were going to be parents.

He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to have deserted him. He felt a wave of emotions crashing over him - joy, fear, excitement, uncertainty.

Aurora reached across the table, her hand finding his. "I know this is a lot to take in," she said, her voice soft. "I was scared to tell you."

Chris squeezed her hand, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. "Scared?" he repeated, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Aurora, I..."

He paused, searching for the right words. "I'm...I'm happy," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm scared too, of course. But I'm also incredibly happy."

Aurora's tears spilled over, and she buried her face in her hands. Chris pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

"We'll figure this out," he whispered, his voice filled with a newfound determination. "Together."

As they held each other, a sense of peace settled over them. They had a long road ahead, but they had each other. And that, they knew, was all that mattered.

[darth-sonny]

Ooh and maybe Prime Leo 22. (Forced to Watch), I'm not sure if young Leo or Kirby era is better though...

ANGST PROMPT #22: FORCED TO WATCH

Make sure to vote for the Prime Leo AU | @tmntstorycomp

The planet wasn't very remarkable.

It is called Ulixes, and that was all they knew about it. Baba said that any information about it wasn't too important.

"Why?"

Baba smiled at that. A "surprise", They answered.

Right now, they were just staring. Ulixes looked less like a planet and more like... a mothership. They're familiar with planetary-like ships – the Technodrome was one, too – but something they learned is that planet ships is that they had to be in the same shape as actual planets.

This planet ship, however, was in the shape of an upside-down cone...

"Their mothership is weird," they say. "It's not in the shape of a planet... that could be bad in the long run..."

Baba placed a clawed hand on their head.

Ĝ̵͙̞̲̆͆͘o̵̢͎̥̼̊ő̴̟̹̎̋̚͠ͅd̵̝͂͊ ̴̻̅j̴̨̃͒̾͜o̴̡͌̈́̆̒̈b̴̫̞̥̅̽̃! They say, demonic mask off and smile on.

It was enough to get their to begin to wag.

D̸̞̣͑̆o̶͕̿̓͑̈́̾ ̷̧̪͍̋y̶̝̮̅͝ő̷̤͛ù̵͈͖̖̥͂̿͗̚ ̴̫͖̲̆̔̒̈́w̷̟̱̯̞̐͊͋̓a̸̩̿n̸͙͂́̊̾̌t̷͆̉̍̕͜͝ ̶̬͙͓̻͇̀̆̿ț̴͔̓͊̾ͅo̶̖̗̫̜̥͒̅͌͝ ̶̨̏l̵̥͙͙̿̈́̾͝ĕ̵̦̉̒͘̚à̸̳̈́ȑ̴͇̯̤̆͘ṉ̴̟̰͙́̀̀ ̶̧̙̬̩͒͜͝m̴̱̀ǒ̸̥̉ṛ̶̰̻̥̫̿̈̏̔͠e̸̯̾̌̃̃͠ ̸͙̪̼̠͑â̵̙͚͈͑̄͝b̸̘̟̝̫̑̔̕o̴͇̱̹̓̈́̃ͅù̶̦̖̬̭̂͒͠t̷̛͍͊̋.̵̯̘̋̌.̴̺̫̰̜̈́̈́͝.̸̢͚̄̒ ̸͚̈́ṯ̸͎͔̱̍ͅh̸͈͕̭́͗é̴̲m̵̨͎̼̳͍͐̏̏͐?

They nodded.

Baba smiled again.

"This is Uixes," Baba begins, Their voice was different now... it happened sometimes, Their voice changing from what it always was to... this.

"This is the planetary mothership of the Triceratons," They continue. "They were the very first beings We came across during Our travels alone."

"Prideful. They had a warrior's mentality. Giant, too. Our throne is the skull of one, you know." A bitter smile grew on Baba's face. "They enslaved Us, saw Us as nothing more than a being to be experimented on, something with no sentience or consciousness... and they were right! If for a bit.

"Back then, We truly were nothing more than just a simple creature, wandering between stars and galaxies, with not a care in sight. Sometimes, We wonder what We would've been like had the Triceratons not found Us..."

Baba scoffed.

"Thinking about it, however, sends Us into a state of... rage, as one would call it. Just a simple creature, with no more consciousness than that of an animal... that would be an injustice of an indescribable magnitude. Our captors had it all, so couldn’t We?

"So for millenia, We watched them. Their ways, their manners, everything that made them who they were.

"There was something that defined them, what drove them to do what they did – it was a phrase, just some words that meant nothing to Us then, but everything to them: strength always prevails."

"What happened to them."

Baba's smile was much more genuine.

And... scary...

"Oh, they're gone now. Just a few left. All of them were too frightened to leave their ship after We... thanked them for their generous hospitality." They sigh. "But, here we are. Truly, if it weren't for them, We wouldn't be who We are. The Triceratons truly were a race of prevailing strength."

They blink in confusion.

"Were?"

Baba smiled one last time, before their mask hid Their face again.

W̵̧̦̱͍̏͂ẹ̵̤̳̹̩̐r̸̨͈̙̼͑ė̴͓̻̠̋͘͝͠.

A snap of their fingers, and everything turned red.

They watched, eyes wide, as the mothership quickly began to disintegrate. They felt Baba place a hand at the back of their neck...

Screams erupted from everywhere.

Screams of horror, terror, pain, rage...

They were loud. Too loud. So very, very loud...

"We escaped their enslavement, little one," they heard Baba's voice say. "We made sure to pay our thanks in full and that their slaughter was as quickly as it was merciless."

The screaming got louder and louder...

"When the time comes, We hope that when We give the order, you will commit to it the same way We did..."

Flashes of blood, viscera, bones, and flayed skin filled their head...

They could smell the corpses, the rot, the stench of vomit, and spilled blood...

"But those times are still so far way, and you are still so very young..."

"You're sick. What happened?"

Kirby looks at daddy, brown eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know..." they sniffle out.

Daddy just bites his lip, almost looking like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.

Instead, he picked Kirby up, held them close, and began to rock back and forth.

"Alright," Leo mumbled as Kirby fell asleep. "Just for now, I'll let it slide."

[gemisbored]

a whole swarm of Hornets!

I've been working on this bit-by-bit over the course of several days. hope everyone likes their Hornets!

@raddest-laddest @featherlouise @dooblebugss @a-sociopath-do-your-research @cheese-grater-terminator @malk-with-tea @dairyfreenugget @abugshapedeldritchbeing @conconpasta @xylo-art @ostebee @linnyaaaa @tenyardstowitchyard @ruthlesslistener @doodledrawsthings @rainechiime @ridleymb @foileadeux @thehappiestgolucky

[cupid-tune]

Late night stroll!

[deoidesign]

Ray of sunshine

(pre-launch page for their comic)

[expelliarmus]