#bad bad drabble i found

[omowitty]

Art wishes he never met Patrick. His life would’ve been so much easier.

He could’ve been much less pathetic. Sure he would still seek validation from others, but that’s normal. Needing validation like a plant needs sunshine, int.

He could’ve been so normal without Patrick.

Somewhere in the six years he lived with Patrick, he rewired his brain. Between the coaching jerk off session, and the teasing that was boardlining bullying Art started to crave it. He needed it to function.

[sunsburns]

summer road trip with luke castellan (16+, implied sex)

it starts with a promise.

made late at night, in the kind of hazy space between sleep and dreaming, when the world feels quiet and nothing’s quite real yet. you’re lying side by side on a roof somewhere—one of those abandoned places luke likes to sneak into. the stars are barely visible, city lights bleeding up into the sky, but you’re not really looking at the stars anyway.

“we should do it,” he says, breathless from laughter after a dumb joke he barely managed to get out. “just take off one day. no plans. no schedules. just you, me, and the open road.”

you laugh into the sleeve of your hoodie. “okay, cowboy.”

“i’m serious.” he props himself up on his elbows. “we’ll make playlists. stay in janky motels. get gas station snacks that’ll probably kill us. it’ll be perfect.”

you hum, eyes fluttering shut. “we’re always saying ‘one day.’ you ever think about making it this day?”

he doesn’t say anything for a long second.

then, “i’ll steal a car.”

you snort. “please don’t steal a car.”

“fine. borrow one.” he nudges your arm. “c’mon. you know you want this.”

you do. gods, you really do.

and maybe that’s why two weeks later you’re throwing a duffel bag in the backseat of an old car luke somehow managed to “legally” obtain (you don’t ask too many questions), a worn paper map stuffed into the glove compartment, and three half-charged burner phones just in case.

you don’t even pick a destination. that’s the point.

it’s about the drive.

the first few days are the best kind of disorganized. you get hopelessly turned around trying to get out of the city, miss your turn like, four times, and end up on some weird detour through a town that seems stuck in the 1950s. you eat breakfast-for-dinner at a diner with cracked red booths and a waitress who calls you both “sweethearts.” luke leaves a doodle on a napkin and tucks it into the jukebox.

the road stretches ahead like a ribbon of possibility, glittering under the sun. the heat blurs the horizon, making everything shimmer like a mirage, and the sky is that kind of obnoxiously perfect blue that feels more like a postcard than real life.

the a.c. in the car gave up somewhere around three days ago, so the windows are rolled down, warm air rushing in and tangling your hair, sticking your shirt to your back. it doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.

you've got one foot propped on the dash and a half-melted slushie wedged into the cupholder, condensation dripping down the sides. the map—the one you swore you didn’t need, and luke insisted you bring anyway—flutters against your knee every time the wind hits just right. it’s already creased and stained, with corners starting to curl. neither of you are really using it.

a cd clicks softly in the stereo, and a hazy guitar riff spills out—something easy, something old. the kind of music that makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

you hum to the songs you know, watching the scenery blur past in golden smears of light and heat.

luke’s driving one-handed, the other resting lazily out the window, fingers tapping against the door in time with the beat. sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, and there’s a sunburn blooming along the edge of his jaw that he keeps forgetting to take care of. he looks over at you, grinning.

“you’re gonna fly out the window if you lean any further.”

“worth it,” you say, hair whipping across your face. “this breeze is all that’s keeping me alive right now.”

he chuckles, reaching over to tug the map from your lap. “you’re the one who said we didn’t need to stop for sunscreen. or, y’know, ice.”

“and you’re the one who didn’t want to stop for directions,” you shoot back, watching him squint at the map like it personally offended him. “so now we’re two thirsty idiots lost somewhere between nowhere and hell.”

“romantic,” he says, tossing the map into the backseat. “just the way i like it.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s affectionate. always is with him.

the wind smells like dust and wildflowers, and every few miles, you pass a road sign faded by time and sun. one of them promises a lake in twenty minutes which probably is not true. the next, a diner with the “best pie in the state.” you don’t stop for either. maybe the next one.

you were supposed to take turns driving. that was the deal—fifty-fifty, no arguments. but luke, being luke, never sticks to the plan. he always insists he’s fine, even when you catch his eyes fluttering shut at a red light, head tilting slightly like he’s about to nod off right then and there.

“i literally saw you close your eyes for five seconds,” you say when he pulls into a gas station, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he parks.

“it was just five seconds,” he groans.

“five seconds away from crashing,” you mutter, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “move over.”

he sighs, dragging himself out from behind the wheel with all the theatrics of someone who’s definitely not fine, even if he still insists otherwise. he grumbles under his breath as he slides into the passenger seat—and is completely passed out the second his head hits the window. no “i’m not even tired,” no “just resting my eyes.” just out cold. mouth open, snoring, even drooling a little.

you drive comfortably after that. there’s less tension on your shoulders now that you’re the one in control, and luke’s quiet snoring is oddly comforting.

he stirs sometime later, sleep-warm and rumpled, his voice still thick with it when he reaches across the console. his hand finds yours with ease, like it’s muscle memory. his fingers slot between yours and, without a word, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. soft. slow. like a thank-you.

somewhere between a cracked-out diner with the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had and a pit stop at a quiet national park, you start feeling it—that warm, slow burn that only summer with luke castellan can bring.

it’s in the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. it’s in the casual brush of his thumb over the back of your hand. it’s in the way he steals bites of your food, complains about the heat, and still tucks a cold bottle of water into your hands without being asked.

he’s quiet during the hikes, but he always slows down so you don’t fall behind, even when you insist you’re fine. he keeps snacks in his pockets for you, things he knows you like, things you didn’t even notice him buying. and when you sit beside him on the edge of a cliff, watching the sun drip like honey into the horizon, he kisses your shoulder so gently it sends goosebumps across your skin.

he takes so many pictures of you. most of the time you don’t even notice until he shows you later—sun-drenched, wind-tousled, blurry with motion but sharp with love. he says he wants to remember you like this. you laugh and roll your eyes, but still smile a little too hard when you see them.

you two stop at a few motels every now and then. they were nothing special. peeling paint, flickering neon sign half-buzzed out, and a questionable stain or two on the carpet—but it’s cheap, and it’s got just enough charm to feel like part of the story. luke leans against the counter while you check in, tapping the bell repeatedly until you swat at him.

the old woman behind the desk gives you a room key and a knowing smirk like she’s seen a thousand versions of you two before: sunburnt, road-weary, eyes too bright to be anything but in love.

sometimes, impulses get the best of the two of you. like when one day luke spots a faded little hand-painted sign pointing down an overgrown path off the side of the highway. beach access. there’s no one around. no cars. just the sound of cicadas and wind through tall grass.

you both follow it on instinct, barefoot and laughing, racing toward the sound of crashing waves.

and then there it is: a hidden stretch of shoreline tucked between two cliffs, like a secret carved out just for you. no footprints, no noise except for the ocean. the sand’s hot and soft under your feet, the sun dipping low on the horizon and casting everything in amber.

you run straight into the water, still half-dressed, splashing and shrieking when luke dunks you under and then pulls you back up, breathless and dripping. he kisses you then, water-slicked and grinning, hands on your waist like he’s never going to let go.

and later, after you’ve both sprinted back to the car, giddy and dripping wet, after the sand’s stuck to every inch of your skin and the sun’s painted you gold, you end up tangled in the back seat. skin sticky with sweat, your bodies pressed close in the heat of the car, breathing in tandem.

the windows fog up, the air thick with salt and sun and something heavier. the radio hums low, some lazy summer song playing beneath the sounds of your bodies shifting, touching, needing. his hands roam like he’s mapping you out all over again, rough in the way he holds you but gentle in the way he touches, like he knows exactly where to press to make you shiver.

he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the taste of salt on your lips, like he wants to bottle this exact moment and keep it somewhere safe. and you, half-laughing between gasps, fingers twisted in his curls, mumble against his mouth, “i told you the backseat would get too hot.”

“guess we’ll have to open the door,” he says, voice low and teasing. “get a breeze in here.”

you roll your eyes, breathless and flushed. “fuck off, if we get caught by some poor park ranger—”

“worth it,” he grins, before kissing you again. deeper, slower this time.

and when you’re breathless and half-dressed, your back pressed to the warm seat and your body aching in all the best ways, you lie there with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is loud in your ear, steady and real.

you tilt your face up toward him, the fading light painting him in gold. “same time next summer?”

his arm tightens around you, his voice soft and full of something you don’t have a name for yet. “you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

[fbfh]

𝓗𝓮𝓱....can I request a Leo Valdez x !dense at romance! reader

HEH INDEED TUMBLR USER HIGANYUUU. as an unsocialized and neurodivergent bitch meself I LOVE the dense at romance and oblivious to flirting reader trope. dynamic. concept or whathave you.

with Leo it's even better, because he thinks his feelings for you are TOTALLY one sided. he thinks he's doomed to be forever alone, trapped in a burning maze of his on inescapable feelings. he ends up venting to Piper about this one night when they climbed on top of the roof of one of the cabins to watch the stars (or if you prefer, get a teeny tiny little bit stoned. it's a summer camp for christ's sake. the older campers have weed stashed in a few places. the demeter kids TOTALLY have a hidden little garden where they grow weed and are constantly making breaking bad jokes. in the late 80s Chiron found it but was so stressed about the possibility of nuclear war that he requested a few blunts and made them promise to never speak of it again. see also: Leo lighting up for you with his hands???? heart eyes.) he tells her all about how his crush on you is so much worse than usual. He gets infatuated easily, but gods you aren't just another fleeting crush. he truly believes he is never going to get over you. and part of him doesn't want to.

Piper laughs.

she lets out a loud snorting laugh that she immediately has to apologize for. Leo lets out his own laugh, surprised and incredulous.

"Sorry-" Piper chokes out. Leo places his hands over his heart.

"Ouch," he says, watching her as she keeps trying to apologize and stop laughing. "I'm pouring my heart out here, Pipes..."

"I know, I know," she says, finally getting it under control. "I am not laughing at you. honest." She insists. "it's just... it's kind of funny that you think that, because they're totally into you too."

he blinks at her.

"...seriously?" he asks skeptically. Piper is already nodding intently.

"oh yeah." Leo can tell she's serious, he just doesn't understand how she got from point a to point b yet.

"It's an Aphrodite thing. I can always sense when someone has a crush on someone else." she sighs softly. "the air feels... warmer when you're in love. It smells like... like rose water, and summer rain. but if it's one sided, it's like... it's almost like a heater and an air conditioner blowing at each other."

she lets out a dry, sheepish laugh.

"it took me weeks to find out that we can't use it on ourselves."

he remembers that, when they first came to camp and she was freaking out about if she and Jason actually even liked each other, or if it was just implanted memories and forced proximity.

"feeling love, raw, real love from everyone around you but the person you want it from is..."

he laughs again.

"discouraging." he finishes.

"exactly."

it's quiet for a moment.

"so..." he trails off, wondering if you really like him too. Piper scoffs and turns to look at him.

"it's like two rockets butt to butt. red hot on both ends."

he noticed it after that. he noticed the way you'd glance at him when you thought he wasn't looking, how you'd go out of your way to bump into him, or linger when you didn't have to just to be around him a little more. so he did what he does best.

he started flirting the shit out of you. but only for a day or two. after that it quickly turned into wooing, then straight up sweeping you off your feet.

Leo's attention and affection seem to come at you like a downpour (not that you're complaining). he's suddenly all over you. he's making you little trinkets, pulling stunts just to show off for you, stealing you away for walks through the woods or to show you what he's working on in bunker 9 (which is basically like asking you to marry him. if he's showing you what he's working on in bunker 9 you might as well be married with three kids and twins on the way.)

and you are just so happy to be with him. he makes you so happy, feel so warm and excited, he starts consuming your every thought. his touch lingers, warm and familiar. on your arms, your shoulders, your hands, the small of your back. wherever his hands fall on you, wherever his fingertips playfully poke or brush under the flimsy guise of a leaf getting tangled in your hair, you feel it for days afterwards.

every time he doubles down, you simply... don't pick up on it. he has to go back to Piper at least six more times to confirm you actually do want him like he desperately wants you. she finds your obliviousness so hilarious she makes everyone in the aphrodite cabin promise not to interfere - much to Leo's annoyance - just to watch this play out. whenever you and Leo are alone, you're actually alone with half the aphrodite cabin observing from afar with opera glasses and popcorn.

eventually he just bites the bullet. he takes your pretty face in his hands, he tells you he likes you, he really likes you, he like likes you. you still don't get it. he tells you he has a crush on you. you still think he's being sweet and flirty and playful. he looks you dead in the eyes and says he thinks he's falling in love with you. you're like yeah! so like... falling in love in a.... friend.... way?? he squeezes his eyes closed for a moment trying not to let his pent up feelings and cuteness aggression win. he lets out a breathy laugh and looks at you very seriously and intensely and tells you no, not quite. falling in love with you in a romantic way. and he's gonna kiss you now, okay? not a playful platonic friend kiss, a falling in love with you kiss.

and motherfucker does he deliver. he pulls you so close, his lips are so soft and warm against yours. he doesn't even bother pulling away before he goes in for more. your head is spinning and his lips and his hands are everywhere. he's pulling you into his lap and leaning over you and you're holding onto him for dear life, whining and panting into his mouth. when you both reluctantly, agonizingly have to pull away for air, he keeps his hands on your cheeks, caressing your skin, breathing in the scent of your breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours where his soft curls tickle your face.

"do... um..." you swallow thickly, struggling to speak as your breath heaves. "d-do you, uh-"

whatever you're trying to ask, he can tell you're nervous.

"'s okay," he murmurs, kissing your cheek, your ear, your jaw. "tell me."

he encourages you so tenderly, so honestly that you feel the rare sensation of your anxiety, your fear of misinterpreting signals or overstepping or being presumptuous melt away.

"I feel like you might have maybe a little crush on me...?" you breathe out.

he freezes, his mouth still sucking hickeys into your neck, and you can feel him smile against your skin, you can feel his laugh vibrating through your body from your throat.

"that... is a huge understatement," he mumbles into your neck. "but yes. I do."

he presses one more lingering kiss right below your ear and pulls back enough to look at you again, stroking your cheek, playing with your hair.

"a really, really big little crush."

you find out later that everyone at camp fully believed you were already dating (and just really bad at soft launching). you also find out the aphrodite cabin had a whole bet pool going on about when you'd finally get together. expect to never hear the end of it.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Caught

As promised! The next drabble in the series :D (or the next one made in between the series? You guys get it. also thanks @spotaus for the original post which gave me the idea/inspiration to start this whole thing)

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Okay the links should all work now and go to the right places.

Usual warning, unedited and unbeta'ed. We are just here to enjoy our time :D

----------

Cross groans as he leans against a wall and resists the urge to bonk his own skull against it "How can we not have foudn him!?" It has been three weeks of them searching at this point! Which means that Nightmare had been out and about for a month now!

Killer leans against the wall next to him "Chin up Cross. We don't want to make a scene and make people realise something is up."

Cross sighs but pulls away from the wall and pulls himself together. Killer is right, a sentence Cross does not use often, and they need to keep a low profile if they want to find Nightmare wihtout anyone realising it.

Dust joins their side and shakes his skull. Okay. Good news and bad news in one go. Good news, no one seems to have heard or seen anything about Nightmare. Bad news, no one has heard or seen anything about him!

Cross sighs and looks at Dust "Horror?"

Dust shrugs. he must see the unimpressed look on Cross face as Dust seems to think a moment longer "Horror is making a second round. No traces of him foudn just yet. but he wants to be sure."

Cross nods. Horror is by far the best tracker out of the four of them and if Horror can't find anything none of them will.

Killer nods as he pulls out his phone "Okay. this universe was also a burst. We don't need anything right?"

Cross shakes his skull "We got our supplies." which is nice about staying on the move, you can travel very light.

Killer nods as he considers the list he made "Okay. We are still searching for that universe. but we are near a split again. We can either go for the sciency universes or the more magical ones. I think the magical ones will lead to our end goal quicker..."

Cross thinks it over. It would be nice if they get to Dreamtale quickly to make sure Nightmare isn't there. It had been a goal until now and the only reason they had been making small jumps and going from universe to universe is because they wanted to be sure Nightmare wasn't in one of those or anyone heard of what happened.

It had been Horror who had offered that they should check everything. After his own accident and his own magic being difficult he had lost some of his more natural abilities. If Nightmare lost his own magical powers he may also lose his ability to travel through the mulitverse. meaning he could get stranded somewhere.

So they were making tiny jumps to neighbouring universes for now. and checking each one that they stopped it. The job they had with Nightmare is actually very helpful for this and trained them as at this point they are able to search about three universes a day.

They know how each universe is suposed to feel and are able to spot key differences or elements that don't belong thanks to all the exposure they have had. Meaning they should in theory be able to spot Nightmare as soon as they see him. or the traces of him.

Cross is still worried. They all already agreed Nightmare would most likely go back to the way he was before. the tiny skeleton from the storybook. But the image of the babybones with his skull smashed open keeps haunting cross. What if that wound returns as well? Would that mean that Ngihtmare is just somewhere heavily injuried with no help? could that have meant that nightmare just... died?

When Cross first asked Killer about it he had just huffed. said that boss is tougher than they can even imagine. and that if he had already died that Killer doubts the castle or the universe it had been in would have still been as stable as it had been when they visited.

Which, Cross knows Killer is right. Cross had seen what happens to a universe that grows too instable and gets destroyed. He had lived in it.

Still. the worry remains and-

"Nothing." Horror joins them again "where too next?"

Killer looks over at Horror "We are at another branch. Science or magic."

Horror frowns as Dust finally speaks again "Both can be promising or worrying. Both have ways of knowing about the multiverse and them..."

Horror nods "Meaning, which way do we think Nightmare would pick if he had to make small jumps. and which could he get stuck in if a large jump misfired?"

Killer frowns as he looks back at his phone and the copy of the general multiverse map he made. Cross looks over his shoulder and frowns with him. Cross can see what makes Killer hesitant to pick either. both paths look promising.

Dust tilts his skull "Which universes are in both paths? And which is saver for a babybones."

Cross turns to Dust and knows so are Killer and Horror.

Dust rolls his eye lights "We know who he is. He knows that. The multiverse at large? Does not. their story isnt known. either way. If nightmare remembers everything and he is going where we think he is going. He will pick the path off least resistence as he knows he is..." a glance around before softer "fragile. if he does not remember. He will take the path of least resistence because trauma and past injuries. So. Which is safer for a babybones?"

Killer blinks before looking back at his list and removing universes. Most Fell universes go straight out. so fo the Mafia stuff. Blaster AUs are next to go. any Genocide endings are out as well and Killer reconsiders the map.

Killer frowns "There is no clear path anymore. a lot of zigzagging. But! I think i see a path which could be seen as safe." he snorts and wiggles his eyebrows, how he does it Cross never figured out, "We can go by a Lustverse."

Dust looks wholly unimpressed and Horror looks disapproving "Focus. Adn are you sure?"

Killer snorts but nods "Yeah. Lustverse is originally build on having a children wish and that not working correctly or something. I don't remember they details but if they see a child they will 100% protect him." he nods and looks at Cross "Knife ready?"

Cross nods as he pulls out his knife "Where to?"

Killer joins his side "We are going to a pacifist upper tale thing. just aim east and slice and it should connect." Cross does as told and the portal fuzzes for a bit before a clear rift opens. On the other side green grass and sunshine.

Cross waits until the other three entered before looking around them quickly. No one near. good. and he goes in.

-----

Nightmare is not a fan of this.

The market is too open and there are too many people.

Good side about it is though... a lot of them will give you free samples and food if you are a kid.

Nightmare walks around another stand and stops by one with all kinds of fruit. it is a lot harder to look over the edge and see all of it but he makes it work. He still hasn't eaten today and really should.

He can't quite remember how much food he needs and when. For now he just gets food whenever he gets really hungry. Just a tiny snack to keep him going. He had been having meals every day or other day. that is good right?

Sure he feels hungry a lot but that is probably normal. If he ate each time he got hungry he would be eating throughout the day and that just seems like a lot.

Nightmare considers the food and how much gold he still has. He had been lucky so far and hadn't been moving to a new universe yet. He had eben here for three days now instead of his normal two.

"Oh hello again friend!"

Nightmare flinches and has to stop himself from ducking away. He looks up and sees the man behind the stall smiling. "... hello..."

The man grins "Good to see you back again little friend. we had been worried when no one spotted you. Would you like to help me test some of the fruits? I can only sell the best stuff of course!"

Nightmare... knows he is just trying to ease him into accepting it. even though he knows it... it works. his soul swells a bit at the idea of helping and being seen as helpful. Nightmare isn't sure why. Ever since he finished shrinking it has become hard to understand himself.

He looks to the side but nods "okay..."

the man nods and considers the fruit "well. I personally think the grapes may be a bit off." he grabs a cluster of grapes and holds it out.

Nightmare holds his own hands under it and the man releases the grapes, never touching him. which is probably because Nightmare can't stop flinching and backing away when people raise their hands or voices.

Nightmare picks one off and eats it. it tastes so good! Sweet and refreshing. nightmare takes his time to eat the tiny treat before looking back at him "It is good." he holds the grapes back out to give back.

The man nods as he taps his chin "that is good to hear. you mind finishing those all and come back if any of them tasted off? We need a good sample size of the tastetesting." he says it as he calmly places a box full of grape clusters ready for sale.

Ngihtmare immediantly pulls the grape close again and nods "Sure..." he doesn't promise it. He isn't an idiot to make promises to strangers. but this man has never been difficult about him having to pay much more than a taste test. Nightmare figures it is something else pity he just pities him but Nightmare just.. can't focus as easily on those things anymore. it is harder too focus on certain stuff and if he tries to force himself to focus or think certain ways it just causes his skull to ache.

So he tries to stay in the now and reacts and thinks only to what happens or are direct threats.

He walks through the market as he eats his grapes. one by one. enjoying each one.

Nightmare is very disappointed when the cluster is all gone and takes a moment to find a trashcan to throw it away. some woman coo and mutter about such a good mannered child and Nightmare feels himself blush and feels the need to hide. it isn't that big of a deal! H just threw soemthing away! be good for nature and stuff and don't throw it just on the ground!

Nightmare quickly leaves the area and starts to make his way back to where he left his stuff. He needs to relax. maybe he can read his book for a moment and nap.

He walks between people and makes sure to not touch anyone. letting his eye lights look around the crowd.

Then he freezes.

Was that white?

probably not right?

Nightmare still strains his eye lights to search the area he saw it. Then he spots him.

And Nightmare cna see that Cross spotted him at exactly the same time.

Neither of them look away from each other for a moment. Nightmare feels his soul pick up the pace as the need to run rises by the second. It is fine. It is fine! Cross... cross probably doesn't even realise he was here! It is just a coincidence.

Cross turns his skull a tiny bit but his eye lights don't break eye contact. Cross is saying something to someone and Nightmare breaks the eye contact to glace.

That is Killer.

Ngihtmare doesn't think as he turns and runs right into the crowd.

"Wait!"

Yup! That is Cross! Nightmar keeps running.

He goes between people and dives under stalls as he uses the crowd for cover. he makes a turn and glances back only to see Cross a lot closer.

Shit.

He makes another sharp turn and spots an possible escape. He rushes into an alleyway and dives behind a dumpster and stays very quiet.

it only takes a few seconds before he hears running steps. he sees a flash of white between the opening of the dumpster and the wall.

the footsteps don't pause and Cross keeps running.

It takes a while but eventually it goes quiet again.

Nightmare waits for a while longer before wiggling his way out of the enclosed space. he checks the area as he jumps out and goes back into the market. He pulls the hood of the hoody back on and puts his hands into his pockets.

He can't hide the skeleton feet as he isn't wearing socks or shoes but this will have to do for now.

He is such an idiot! He should have kept moving instead of staying in the same universe for so long! Nightmare nods to himself. He will go to his little hidey place. grab his things. and make a jump.

He cuts through the market and finds the building with the empty storage he had taken over. he climbs in through the window and huffs as he lands hard in his little hidey place.

Nightmare leans against the wall and lets out a breath in relieve. okay. he is fine. he is fine. he is-

"Ah!" he gets picked up and is suddenly held back against a much larger form.

"Finally. we have been looking everywhere."

Nightmare freezes because that is Dust. Then he starts to struggle and fight more to be let go.

---------

Dust runs over the roof tops as he easily keeps up with the small form in the market. Cross on the ground not far behind.

To say they are relieved would be an understatement. They had actually found boss.

How is he so tiny? Are all six year olds that tiny? Or is he just that tiny because of... well everything?

Dust isn't sure.

When Cross had frozen they had all turned to him to see what had been wrong. He had motioned that he had found Nightmare. Only for Nightmare to start running.

Which, rude. What the hell Nightmare?

Killer had been quick to step up to the job or right hand and gave them orders. Cross would follow on foot. Dust would go over the rooftops to make sure we didn't lose him. Killer nad Horror would go around the market and go to the other end to corner him if necessary.

Dust watches Nightmare dive into an alleyway and hide. Cross follows the path but once he can't spot Nightmare he keeps running right back out. only a moment later Nightmare comes out of hiding and goes back the way he came.

Dust follows him from the rooftops. making sure to stay quiet as he does so. He does take a moment to take his phone out and text the others that he still has eyes on Nightmare and is following him.

This does imply that Nightmare doesn't remember him. Why else would he freak out at the sight of Cross? Cross of all skeletons?

But if Nightmare doesn't have his memories and only remembers Dream as fellow skeleton... maybe that could explain why he freaked out?

Or it is because all of you betrayed him and he knows you can't be trusted the voice of papyrus is not welcome at the moment.

Dust glares as he keeps following Nightmare "shut up. you don't know shit."

he laughs oh? Cursing already? You will infect your terrible manners unto the tiny babybones. unless of course you just do what you should and kill him.

Dust slowly moves to the next roof "I already told you. I am not killing him."

A huff Then what will you do?! He is useless like this! Offers nothing!

Dust hisses his own answer back "He is a child. He doesn't have to offer anything."

a laugh so now he is a child? While before he was just your weakened boss? Which is is sans?

Dust ignores the ghost as he watches Nightmare disappear into a building. Dust is quick to silently follow him. Nightmare pants as he leans against the wall under the window that Dust is perched on. Dust scans the room before anything else. It is empty and looks old. in the corner he spots a backpack that looks a lot like one of Cross's anime backpacks. it lays on a thin blanket of some kind. otherwise the room is filled with boxes and other junk.

Nightmare looks calm and Dust acts quickly as he scoops Nightmare up as he lands inside the room.

Dust lets out a breath as tension leaves his body "Finally. we have been looking everywhere." They found him. they did it.

Nightmare is frozen for a moment before he starts to wiggle and struggle "let me go!"

Oh fuck that voice is so much higher than before. also shit Ngihtmare is slippery!

Dust groans as he tries to tighten his hold on the small skeleton but he is unsure how to do this without hurting the other. he is so much tinier than he thought he would be. Not to forget most likely much much more fragile. How does he hold Nightmare like this?!

Dust tries to change his handhold but alost drops Ngihtmare "Calm down Nightmare. it is just me." maybe he just didn't recognise him? please remember him.

more laughter What now you are scared he forgot you? Like he ever mattered to you! Hah!

Dust wants to snap at the voice but stops himself. If nightmare really doesn't know who they are than talking out loud to something no one else hears is not the right way to introduce himself.

Nightmare does not stop struggling and Dust keeps having to change his hold on the other.

In the end Dust decides to just sit down under the window and roll up around the tiny babybones- Nightmare. around nightmare. He ahs to remind himself it is Nightmare.

But... nightmare is a babybones now. or was always a babybones.

... mental and moral problem for later with how he will deal with that.

At least Nightmare stopped struggling. instead jjust panting harshly in his hold. No doubt tired from first trying to escape them and then struggling to be freed.

Dust just hugs the other tighter. do not relax his hold and give the other a chance to escape.

He is so tiny! so much lighter than Dust expected him to be. Also thinner as most of his form seems to be just the hoody. Wait that is his old hoody.

Dust isn't sure how to react to this. How to react to the feeling of having this tiny babybones against and with him.

Well good job. you have captured a babybones. are you going to kill him like you killed me? remembering how i was as babyboned never stopped you from killing me after all.

Dust feels his hold tighten on Nightmare. No. he is not going to hurt nightmare. Dust can be a good... a good.. henchman. and henchman help their boss. even if their boss is now tiny and easy to hold and so so thin and feels warm against them and Dust can feel the tiny fragile soul slowly calm down as they are close enough that Dust can feel it pulse and beat in the other.

Dust sighs as he struggles to find words "That is better." he makes sure one of his arms has a tight hold on Ngihtmare before he grabs his phone. He opens the group chat and types a message 'I got him. Just have to get back to you guys. See you outside of town, south side.' and he sends it. only a moment before he gets celebratory emojis back for the news.

Dust puts the phone away and stands "Time to go." he turns to the window.

Nightmare immediantly starts to struggle "no! My stuff!"

Dust frowns down before looking back. It shouldn't matter. They can just grab stuff he wants from other universes and they did that before... then again. If anyone understands how you can unreasonably attached to objects it is Dust, he still has Papyrus' scarf after all.

Dust nods and walks over to the corner of things. He holds one arm around Nightmare, holding him against his shoulder and partly over it. as he packes the stuff laying around with his other hand.

Thin blanket, backpack just holds a book, a lighter, a pocketknife and some gold. Not a lot but if this is all NIghtmare had to make his way through the multiverse for the last month it is all the more impressive.

Dust can't help but ask "Why not take more things?" he finishes packing and puts the backpack on Ngihtmare's back before taking a tight hold on him again as he easily lifts him.

Nightmare grumbles but mutters and answer "Too heavy... travel light and find what you need."

Dust freezes. He hadn't expected an answer. but if... if Ngihtmare answered then... "Ready... to meet up with the others?"

Ngihtmare freezes and wiggles for a moment before going lax with a sigh "you four met back up?"

Dust feels his soul relax. He remembers them. He rememebrs them! Oh this makes everything so much better!

Dust grins as he checks outside the window "Of course." of course they would emet back up to find him. obviously. Now. To get to the tohers and get the hell out of here.

They are going to have to figure out how to manage this child after all.

----

They had aqcuired the child! now they just need to figure out how to be parents lmao. I am sure they will be fine :) They only lightly traumatized Nightmare here by stalking him, hunting him, intruding on his safe space, and forcefully moving him :D

They are fine you all :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

This one was fun to write! so mcuh fun! i love getting them all to interact and do things :D

[irondad-defensesquad]

“What?” The boy says, a little impatiently, embarrassed by all the staring. “You don’t have to feel guilty I was alone today, Mr. Stark, jeez. You have your stuff to do, it’s okay.”

If you really cared, you’d actually be here, Tony recalls Peter’s words back then.

[hereissomething]

me when i look up refs on pinterest and everything is either an ad or ai slop🙂

[redlegumes]

Dec 2nd: Came Back Wrong

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: Came Back Wrong | AO3: link | wc: 750 | rating: T | cw: none | tags: Steve Harrington has bad parents, found family, Christmas cards, holiday cards, return to sender

Summary: A holiday card marked 'return to sender' and Eddie remind Steve who his family is.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

“Looks like one of the cards came back to us babe,” Eddie said, flipping through bills. He handed Steve the battered blue envelope that Steve instantly recognized from their Christmas cards that year.

Steve looked at the neat block lettering the recipient had used to print the words ‘return to sender' above the address, and quickly noticed that the envelope was… altered. It was obvious to Steve that it'd gone through more wear than regular transport could have created.

“Stevie?” Eddie stopped looking through their other mail and set it on the kitchen counter before walking up to Steve. He ran his hands up and down Steve's arms, and began to stare daggers at the offending piece of mail in Steve's hand. “You're a little frozen there. What's wrong?”

Steve cleared his throat to speak, but his own voice still felt a little far away. “It's ‘return to sender,’ but it came back wrong.” 

cont. after the cut

“Uh, looks like a letter sweetheart,” Eddie said. His brow furrowed and Steve caught sight of one eyebrow raising slowly. “Which address was it?”

“Yeah, it- it's just a card,” Steve mumbled, his hands clenched the envelope a little tighter. “It was addressed to my parents.”

Eddie softly asked, “can I see?” Steve didn't respond, or fight when Eddie gently tugged it free from his grip. Instead Steve pictured exactly what was in the envelope. A secular, ‘happy holidays’ card with a blanket sort of sentiment on the front. He and Eddie weren't particularly religious, but they enjoyed the holiday season all the same. The cards they’d chosen that year were blank inside and Steve had spent a long time, not just building a list of recipients but on the letters he wrote out in each one.

The best part of the cards that year were the mall portraits Steve and Eddie ordered. They were in matching red long johns with a Christmas themed background. They even managed to get Lucifer (their three year old tortoise shell cat) and Bird (their mystery mutt) posed with them. Wearing bows. Wrangling the pets into the J.C. Penny photo studio alone had been a feat. Steve normally still chuckled even thinking about it, and Eddie's embellished tale of the event had already come up at multiple holiday parties.

He wondered if the photo would still be inside.

“Ah, I see what you mean now.” Eddie had a grimace on his face as his dexterous fingers turned the envelope over and ran along the top edge. 

Someone had opened the card, and not in an unintentional way. There was no evidence that someone ripped it open, assuming it was a card for them before realizing the mistake and sending it back through the post. No, the envelope had been carefully slit across the top, something one might be able to do with a very sharp letter opener. Steve pictured such a letter opener in detail: being lifted from a wooden, velvet lined box on a desk, the blade sharp, handle heavy, real silver throughout kept free of tarnish.

Eddie practically growled as his nail picked at the single piece of scotch tape that had re-sealed the top edge. “Assholes.” He pulled it off and took out the card, glancing briefly at the careful script Steve had written inside before plucking out their photo. Eddie marched to the fridge where he moved a large souvenir magnet from their California trip to secure it to the front door, centered over the other holiday cards already collaged over the appliance. He hooked Steve’s fingers when he walked back, heading directly to their small home’s fireplace. “We can always use more kindling,” he said, kneeling to nestle the card and envelope between the logs already placed there to light later that day.

Steve nodded, and Eddie took his face in his hands. His calloused grasp was steady, and Steve let himself become absorbed in the hot chocolate brown gaze holding his own. “You made lovely cards this year and our family photo is in the hands of everyone we care about this year. Everyone who loves us sent us cards too.” He kissed Steve’s nose, and sighed. "Are you going to be okay, knowing there was one that came back wrong?”

“I will be,” Steve replied, kissing Eddie on the lips. The kiss was sweet, but Steve also basked in the knowledge he’d built a loving family. One that chose him in return. One that proved, time and time again, what right looked like.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

[ekingston]

Ugh, I love The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Helping with the two virtual seasons was one of my favorite things I've done in fandom

i remember hearing about that when the show was canceled, what a cool thing to have been a part of!

[nekofantasia]

The sound of her pounding heart is what woke her up this morning, and then a very heavy feeling was made aware as soon as she aware of herself.

Feeling tired after sleeping is not all surprising for her. She’s always had trouble sleeping and then were even nights where she couldn’t get to rest her eyes at all. For a youkai like her, having most of her nights like that might not kill her…but even she had to admit that this is something she would love to get rid of it as soon as possible. It really made a difference when she was able to sleep soundly, even if she would wake up all groggy for no reason.

But today was…different? Let’s go with different.

She couldn’t recall the moment she got back on her feet. In fact, her whole body ached, as if she repeated her master’s training sessions so many times. And why was she so drenched in sweat too? Sure it’s still warm out there, but even the morning air felt chilly around her. Her heart was still pounding after a while…There’s not much she could recall prior to all this–Except for an intense sense of dread.

Was it a nightmare again? No, she could’ve recalled it easily. Besides, nothing would’ve gone as far as making her jump out of her mattress so violently like that. Her mind was too foggy to recall anything, but she was sure that such experience could only be compared to those where she had run or fight for her own survival. Whenever she encountered with something that really really terrified her. And just like in those situations, her body would cool down and her aches would start to become more unbearable by the minute. She looked at her own hands, her knuckles were pale and the palms of her own hands were slightly injured as what it seemed to be from her own nails digging into her skin. Her own clothes looked rough too, as if she braced for a very bad fall at the mountain. Did something attacked her while she was sleeping in her…

Wait.

Was she…was she even in her room at all?

Thankfully she was still inside the household, she was only a few steps away from the sliding door that separated her room from the hallways. Confusion transitioned into dread again, a few pieces surfaced in her once unreliable memory.

Something appeared in her room, she was sure of it and it must’ve been very dangerous with the way she acted. With a second surge of adrenaline coursing her body, she could feel a heavy presence still looming within her bedroom. As much as she wanted to run for help, she couldn’t get her eyes off the sliding screen. No, she can’t risk it–If the intruder is still there then it’s her only chance to make sure it leaves her masters’ home. She was trained for this kind of situations, she MUST be able to do it.

Yet, her hands were shaking to a degree she’s never done before. She couldn’t even breathe properly, afraid that any movement could give it all away to the threatening entity that invaded her room and mind. She gave herself just three seconds, and in one swift movement she pulled the screen to one side.

Only to find nothing.

Except for a chaotic mess in her room, which might’ve done it herself considering there were no obvious signs of intrusion.

But it still felt difficult to make the first step inside. Her body still felt tense from all the stress she just put her body through. She would check one side to the other and found nothing to be afraid of, everything looked normal. Despite that, she hesitated when she tried to close her room. She couldn’t bring herself to relax yet.

She sat on her futon, still wondering about all this. Is this something she must report to Ran and Yukari? Well, there’s no evidence of a trespasser…No, that would look bad. Truth to be told, it would be hard to share such thing. She can’t bring herself to make them worry. Maybe it’s best to just sleep it off.

Yes…sleep sounds good, she thought.

Her master might scold her for sleeping in, but at this point, she was feeling too tired to care. She couldn’t even tuck herself properly either, the nekomata just couldn’t wait to forget all this as if it was nothing than a bad dream. Her once erratic breathing would become steady and quiet as her eyes never dared to open for a while.

The world can continue without her today.

[manofmanymons]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Digimon Survive (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Momozuka Takuma/Shinonome Kaito Characters: Dracumon | Dracmon (Digimon Survive), Momozuka Takuma, Shinonome Kaito Additional Tags: the fact that this is a ship fic and somehow dracmon is still the most relevant character lmao, as per usual i wrote this instead of studying for an exam that's in five hours, Love Confessions, Fluff and Humor, Texting is involved but it's not a chatfic lol, Takuma is a disaster bi change my mind, guys I haven't slept in days please help me, was in a real silly goofy mood with this one ngl, featuring kaito's crippling low self-esteem Summary:

Takuma receives a bizarre confession via text and questions whether it really came from Kaito or not.

[dreamlandxrunaway]

Update! Was told to leave off using my computer and phone as much as I can... which is.... a lot..... and which mostly applies to my phone! My wrist is fine... just.... a different health issue I need to take care of, which I'm already taking some steps towards dealing with...

What does that mean for 1CDAT or anything else? Well, I definitely can't do as much as I wanted to, since there is other stuff that need my attention, and I'll need to focus most of my energy on that! As well as me just not really wanting to write about winter in the middle of the summer hahaha

In conclusion(????): 1CDAT on a hiatus until October (as much as I wish it ended sooner,,, i just won't have the time for the double written parts.. as they probably won't be short... we are about to enter the last arc(?) of the story soon); I'm gonna be accepting drabble / short one shots and time stamps requests the next two weeks (more or less) - as long as I'm comfortable with actually writing them (aka probably not taking any explicit explicit requests until I post a smut fic os on my own); following that last one, might post something that's unrelated to my ongoing smau... wanted it to be another smau but since I'm not really allowed to use my phone as much... it might be an OS or something of sorts hehe

For the requests thing, will post the (possible) requirements some time during this weekend :))

[discordantrhapsody]

whoa I wish I hadn't gotten self conscious and lost all desire to do anything with this guy during the emd game. which is exactly what he existed for

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU - Reunion

Fun fact. I was planning on going through these drabbles to see where I still had a bit of a blank spot timeline and story wise. and I did NOT get far.

Because I realised. I never made a tiny drabble about how I pictured the guys reuniting to go back to Nightmare!

So. That is this! (also yes i am hinting at bad sans poly but we will see where that all ends)

First and Prev Drabble (with the original prompt by @spotaus ) Next Drabble

*-----------------*

Cross frowns as the knife once again can't cut through the universe.

This... is an issue.

Cross had managed to get close but for some reason the knife could not connect with Nightmare's universe and castle.

Had... had Nightmare banned him?

Cross hopes not. He knows he had been stupid for running away but he had just! He needed! He had just needed a moment for himself!

Cross tries to take a deep breath and relax. It is fine! Think! Think there is probably another reason!

NIghtmare had been shrinking and losing his form... maybe he is just tired and resting and that affects the universe he is in? Maybe?

Cross wishes Dust was here, Dust knows so much more about magic stuff than he does. Sadly Cross was an idiot and just went out on his own without saying goodbye.

He looks at his phone and opens the message screen again. He clicks Dust's contact and considers typing a message.

Just a quick one to ask for help getting back?

He sighs and puts the phone away. No. This is his mess up and he can fix it himself! He didn't need them or Nightmare to fix his messes!

Again...

Cross shakes his skull and looks to the notes in his phone. He finds the right one. It is a small list of items that should help connect him to Nightmare's universe.

When he first started working for Nightmare the god had told him that the castle and the universe it is in can be hard to find or connect to because of his magic. The items would help the magic in his knife, or the teleportation crystals, locate it and focus on it.

Cross pulls out the list and reads it again.

seven candles, unscented

autumn leaves

a very sweet apple

a dreamcatcher

a way to light a magical fire

be in an universe as close as possible

Cross checks his list and bag and groans. He had only managed to get the apple and the leaves so far. this stupid universe only had a few very small and old towns and it is honestly getting on his nerves!

Cross had just been nervous about leaving this universe. He didn't know this one and just because he managed to jump to it didn't mean he would be able to do it again.

The phones had an extra feature to make it known to them if they were near the castle. it had lit up at this spot after quite a few universes that didn't do it.

Meaning he was not leaving it!

Agh. he could ask if Horror is having more luck and-

WAIT!

Cross looks back over his shoulder and sees Horror walk past.

Cross doesnt think and rushes after the large skeleton "Horror! wait up!"

horror blinks and looks over "Oreo?"

Cross pulls a face at the nickname but catches up to him "What are you doing here?"

Horror looks slightly sheepish as he rubs his neck "You know... regret... trying to get back..."

Cross frowns "Get back- wait... did you leave as well?!"

Horror frowns at him "As well?" then his sight finds Cross' bag and cross can see Horror take note of the items in there. Horror looks back at him with a frown "You can't make the jump either?"

Cross feels both better and worse. Maybe he isn't banned! Or at least he isn't alone in being banned! which just makes him feel like a jerk. He nods and groans "not having much luck with getting the things i need. only got the apple and the leaves..."

Horror blinks but gets a small half grin on his face which Cross thinks should be criminal with how goo- OKAY he is stopping that line of thought.

Horror calmly gets his phone and turns it to enable Cross to see the items in his inventory. a lot of foods and- oh! a sweet apple. and unscneted candles!

Horror keeps grinning "Seems like we are getting close."

Cross grins and nods as he walks with the taller skeleton "Any idea why we can't get in?"

Horror shrugs "multiple options. dunno which."

Cross nods as he looks down "Yeah i figured."

They walk and search together before a loud gasp and Cross is suddenly tackled form behind. Cross yelps as he loses his balance. The only reason he doens't fall over is because Hroror manages to catch both him and whichever idiot rushed into him.

"Criss-Cross! H!"

Ah. nevermind. Cross knows that idiot. Cross glares over his shoulder at the grinning Killer "Why would you tackle me?!"

Killer grins but the grin turns sharper then just friendly "Had to make sure you guys didn't up and leave again without a single fucking word Criss-Cross!"

Cross winces and looks to the side "Yeah... I guess..."

Horror looks guilty as well before looking at Killer "Why are you here? instead of at the castle?"

Now it is Killer's turn to look away and he shrugs "After all of you guys left I figured i would try it myself. the whole solo-rouge-vagabond dealio. I didn't like it. So I am going back ot Nightmare and see if he needs a right hand still...." more thoughtful "or maybe babysitter? If that whole shrinking thing kept up."

Yeah and that line causes more guilt than before. because they really just all left Nightmare alone to deal with whatever was affecting him. Instead of at least offering help as they should have as his henchman and teammates. Nope! instead they all just left!

Cross rubs his arm "Yeah... we are on our way back too... You got stuff for the ritual?"

Killer sighs "Only the lighter. But that is because i already had one."

Horror frowns at Killer "All of us? Dust too?"

Killer nods "Just walked away. not a word or grabbed anything as far as i know."

Cross covers his face "We are the worst. terrible people." thankless, untrustworthy, unloyal. Cross can think of quite a few more words to describe them.

"We knew that already."

Cross, and Killer for that matter, curses as he jumps back. Only to see Dust standing by them, hood up but face visible with his bored expression.

Killer is by now standing behind Horror and glares at Dust "Don't do that! My soul is already fragile!" the soul shaped floating soul wiggles but stays steady.

Dust raises a brow and looks unimpressed "Don't talk about others then."

Horror chuckles and smiles "Good to see you dust. join us?"

Dust nods "Can't make the jump. what are we mission still?"

Cross takes out the list and after comparing what they have they realise they are only mission the dremacatcher, which Dust pulls out of his pocket.

Cross gasps "Where did you find that? I checked every store!"

Dust shrugs "stole it."

... right. that is also an option.

They take the items outside of town and get it ready.

The dreamcatcher as base with the candles all around it. The leaves used to wrap the apple, the only use one and Horror eats the others as they work.

Killer holds up the lighter and after focusing for a moment flicks it. instead of the normal yellow flame a bright pink flame appears. Killer lights all the candles adn waits for a moment until the smoke circles one another. Last Killer lights the leaves enclosing the apple without disturbing the smoke trails.

The new smoke trail joins the other seven and the whole pile bursts into flames but no heat comes off it. the flame remains pink for a moment before turning purple and then turning black.

Killer grins and looks at Cross "cut away!"

Cross nods and cuts right above the flame and the universe shimmers. The smoke finds the small slice and fills it, moments later the flame and fire travels up towards the slide using the smoke and it opens a black portal, still smoking.

They rush through it and manage to get through it before the portal burns up.

Cross looks over his shoulder "And there shouldn't be anything left?"

Dsut shrugs "small pile of ash."

Killer grins "it burns up very quickly as soon as a portal is established."

Cross frowns as he looks around. they are in the late autumn forest around the castle. He can see the shadow of it in the distance. He starts walking and the other three join him.

Cross huffs "Still think it is a deceptively easy list..."

Killer shrugs "People don't expect there to be an easy way. Not like they will just test things until they hit jackpot." Then Killer grins wider "Not that anyone knows about Ngihtmare's sweet tooth. and no one knows about the apple, hell we don't even know it."

Cross nods as they walk through the forest. Cross can't help but feel like it feels... empty. Whcih is weird because Cross always knew there was nothing else in this universe or forest but them. but still it feels...different.

Horror seems to notice too as he glances around "feels weird..."

Dust nods immediantly "magic is different."

Cross nods as well "I noticed too..."

Whatever is going on it is big... because either it is affecting the universe, it is affecting nightmare enough that it affects the universe. or Nightmare is affected enough that he made these edits.

Hopefully they can clear all this up once they see Nightmare and apologise to him. The exit the forest and spot the castle in the distance.

Time to go talk wiht him.

*-----------------*

First and Prev Drabble Next Drabble

And as we all know, Nightmare wasn't there. woops. turns out that apology will have to wait a bit Cross.

And the tiniest bit of Bi-panic for Cross (I believe he canonly is Bi in like Xtale so he is still Bi here) ((And yes I am slightly hinting at BSP because I like them but They are kinda too busy to really focus on that in these drabbles but there some interest! but it can also be seen as pureply platonic with just some curious interest honestly *shrug* It is june after all!))

[tojisteddy]

Ruthless

or: Country!Simon catches you attempting to tag his property, of course he has to teach you a lesson.

cw: 3.6k words, 18+ mdni, Country!Simon, alt universe, no use of y/n, some plot with smut, dub-con, spanking, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, age gap (Simon 29, reader 23), primal play & reencounter (if you tilt your head), pet names (little girl, city broad, lucky), fingering, lite pussy pronouns, degradation, lucky!reader

a/n: a scrapped Drabble turned into a full story cause I love plot

part 2!!! <3

You were running like your life depended on it.

It was dumb for you to even attempt to tag the Riley barn to begin with.

You knew that, your friends knew that, anyone in town would’ve warned you otherwise.

It all started with a little end of college fun, wreck havoc like the good ole days. Nothing out the ordinary. Something that supposed to be a silly little prank, saying goodbye to college and hello to adulthood by spray paint and a little egging.

Was it a little too much for your liking? Yes.

Just plain rude and disgusting because at the end of the day, what exactly did Ghost do to deserve any of this? But peer pressure is a nasty, annoying, bitch. Regardless of age.

The Riley Ranch had been rumored as evil and haunted, the only people who really interacted with the land being other farmers. Even when Simon Riley, the last standing of the family, came to church (on the rarest occasions), people kept their distance. Afraid his families “bad” energy would spread over to them.

They called him Ghost.

There was a fire at the families home, started by Ghosts father who was always in a rage. Your father made sure your family stayed clear of him when you visited, he wasn’t too kind to quote, ‘big headed, posey, no good, city slickers.’ No one thought his rage would grow so large into trying to kill his whole family.

No one one besides Ghost made it out that night, there was rumored to be a large burn mark on his back to prove it.

You’d gotten found too fucking quick, “What the hell do you think you’re doin?” His voice booming on the highway road.

Simon Riley was blessed to have ears like an owl. Heard the car pull up and stop on his property, the rumbling of the engine— a beat passes— the car doors slamming shut and the far off hushed giggles. Nothing new, people had passed his property to spook whoever the hell they were with. Try to show how “evil spirits” ran rampant on his land, even if they were, he hadn’t ask for them to be there. But they’d never stop. They’d do it before.

They’d do it again.

But he heard that can of spray paint shake and his boots hit the floor before he even realized it.

Not the brown farmhouse gate he’d spent so long sanding down as a child with the help of his grandfather. Not the white ranch fence he’d spend so long getting together as soon as the land was properly handed to him and in his name, that’d he hand painted himself and fixed up the grass so people knew better than to drop any litter there.

No fucking way.

Your friends were already in the mustang you’d arrived in, those bastards, revving the engine and zooming off. You dropped the can, more spray getting on the grass fuck, fuck, fuck— your brown eyes slowly looked up, meeting a more than livid pair blue eyes.

You wanted to squeak out, ‘im sorry’ but where would there be room for that? Not in between the ranch fence that already had a squiggly line and crooked smiley face with black spray paint on it created by yours truly. There would absolutely be no room for an apology when his face was already screwed up, jaw clenching from underneath the bandana that hid his face, eyes narrowing into slits.

Well duh, babe. Move those feet!

And you did, turning at a 90 degree angle and sprinting like it was the end of the world. Ghost mumbled a ‘god damn it’, and ran right after you, his boot quickly meeting a carton of unopened eggs.

Oh you were definitely in for it now.

You ran through the Egyptian wheat, tall as the eye can see, green leaves scratching your arms and legs. You prayed to God there wasn’t any crazy animals hiding in there. You were panting, taking a quick glance behind you and you could only hear rustling of the large plants that surrounded you, feet hitting the floor.

Then you heard a distant yell in the field, “[+], you get back here!”

Well it wasn’t exactly the hardest to spot you out, you looked like your mother— who looked like her mother. You came from a family known for actually being good people, never hesitating to help or providing when need be. You’d met Mr. Riley a couple times in your 23 years of life. Quick instances that you vaguely remember. But you knew his face, and he knew yours.

Your mom had been one of the few good people making sure he was well taken care of when he was younger, she couldn’t raise him like she had wanted to with having to travel back and forth from the city for work as a children’s author. But she’d made sure he was taken care of in whatever home he was placed in, encouraged him to join the Boys and Girls club, something to ground him.

“Just needs someone to look after ‘em is all,” she’d ensisted while braiding your hair one night before heading to meet him at his group home, fingers weaving through your curls with purpose, you were around eight. “Some kids need a lil extra love, show ‘em someone’s there for ‘em. Simon’s one of those kids, so is your older brother, even though he’s a pain in my side at times. They’re all good in their core— their heart. It’s important to have someone nurture it. Gods called me to do that.”

Though, the relationship strained when the foster system let him go. “He’s just having boy troubles. Boys go through those weird hormones when they hit a certain age. Wants to prove ‘imself as a man. They get real hard headed [+]. He’ll get over it ‘nd pull through. He always does,” she’d say. So certain. Undoubting. Like a sixth sense.

And Simon did manage well enough, clearly, for him to have a proper farm for himself, one that was properly taken care of and thriving. You’d visited with your mom two years back. It was so clear to you now. Your mother practically smothering him in a hug when she got close enough. Simon was awkward at first, but accepted it. His eyes and whole body softing by her touch. She’d been family when no one else would be.

He looked towards you, you met a gorgeous shade of blue, long blonde lashes to match his short blonde hair, face with a few noticeable scars and half his face hidden under a black bandana. You were standing a ways off so you couldn’t hear what he or your mother was saying, but you saw him nod toward you. Your mother saying something and him nodding in response. She waved you over,

“[+] you know Simon— I mean, Mr. Riley since you’re a grown man now, ain’t that right.” She laughed.

“Whatever you want ma’am.” He looks down at you and extends his hand. You take it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and give it a firm shake.

“Good seein you.” It wasn’t just words, he was sincere, caring. Like seeing an old friend.

You nodded, “ ‘S good seeing you too.”

He showed you the farm after that in his truck. The big house that was farther toward the woods, properly fixed after the fire a decade ago, the Egyptian wheat field, the horses and chickens and the new blue barn he was building to accommodate them, the horse training area used to break in horses no one else would. It was a lot of land, a lot of work, but you could tell by the sound of his husk voice, he was proud of himself and the work he’d been able to accomplish. Even more happy when your mom praised him.

It finally clicked: that barn— and right on time, you’d caught sight of it. Not the one Mr. Riley had been fixing when you visited, the old one. Large and in charge that had old wood, and was definitely falling apart. But you made a bee line for it anyway.

What other option did you have?

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, nerves on a high because you didn’t even notice how close Ghost was to you before you ducked so he couldn’t grab you. Kicking his shin and dashing towards the barn that was bones.

“You damn brat! fuck me!” He cursed, hopping to ease the new pain on his leg before running right after you.

You undid the large wooden latch, sliding the doors open and immediately trying to slide them close. But his hand shot through the opening, a shiver runs down your spin.

Up the steps you went, the only place you could go, and Ghost was right on your heels, quick, almost silent— didn’t call him Ghost for no reason. You tripped and fell on a pile of hay and wild chickens went fluttering and clucking down to the barn floor, clouding your vision. Next thing you knew, Ghost finally caught you. His hands grabbed hold of both of your arms as you rolled around and thrashed underneath him.

“You fuckin asshole! Let me go!” You grunted, trying to kick your legs where the sun didn’t shine but completely missing when the older man closed your legs, gripping them together under your knees in his hands. He had you like a pig about to be roasted.

“You ruin my property but I’m the asshole?” The fucking audacity of you. “Gonna teach you a fuckin lesson cause clearly they don’t teach you city folk manners.”

With ease, Ghost sat himself down on one of the old hay bails, bringing you over his lap. He grunts, keeping you as still as you can, and then like thunder— his large calloused hand comes down to your plump ass, echoing in the empty barn.

“Mr. Riley!” You gasp, your head shoots up, eyes widening— there’s no way- was he giving you a spanking? The next one yanks you out of your thoughts, brutal, harsh, that makes you scream his name again, “Mr. Riley, that’s enough!” But he’s completely ignoring you.

“Spray painting my fences,” SMACK!

“Tryin to egg my house,” SMACK!

“‘Nd Ruinin my fuckin crops?!” SMACK!

“You’ve lost,” SMACK! “you’re damn,” SMACK! “mind! little girl!” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

You’re crying and whimpering, as his hand continues forming ripples in your ass. You’d gotten one singular whopping your whole life, from your grandma for breaking her good vase when she told you no ball throwing in the house. Life altering from one incident that made you into the goodest girl there ever was.

And then there’s this predicament, one that ripped your soul in two. One half fueled with hatred for doing something so crude— so audacious. And then the other that’s struggling to keep itself contained. one more hit that meets your tender bottom, one that hits you in a place you didn’t realize was boiling over— a smack to the ass that forces an egregious moan out of your trembling plump lips.

Simon stills, his eyes flicking over the state of you. You’re shaking, head down and legs finally not kicking. But he sees the way you try to hide yourself further into his lap, because you and he both know you just moaned because of a little whooping.

Oh— you're crazy.

You’d unknowingly created a fire and Simon would add lighter fluid to it.

He lifts the bottom of your short flower patterned dress, just to peak, you jump but still, your heart pounding even louder than it had before. And it’s a sight for the man to behold— your underwear soaked like the damn ocean. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to bring the hands down to hide the slick that was ever growing.

“D-don’t look.” You sniffle. Too damn cute.

But there’s a snicker, something that makes you look back at him and his eyes are shining with mischief, “My god, you’re a filthy lil thang, aren’t’chu?” It’s almost rhetorical, he’s not asking you, he’s asking your cunt. “Didn’t know you city broads were like that, learn somethin new every day, don’t you?”

You yelp when he yanks your underwear down to your knees, thrashing around once again, but Simon keeps you still. Your pretty pussys glistening as bright as sun on water, slick all over your fat second pair of lips. He brushes his fingers against them, sending shivers up your spine, you cant help but arch further into his touch.

You whine, “Mr. Riley-“

“—Shhhhh, gotta hear her,” he murmured, slowly slipping a finger in your drenched hole. Your pussys practically sputtering out with every thrust of his finger, slipping another one and coating it perfectly. He takes them out, sucking up the juices on his tongue that you’ve left on them, spitting down on your hole before stuffing his fingers back into you. He hums in satisfaction as you lose your mind, “such a fuckin slut, you just get this wet for anyone, don’t you?”

Your eyes reach the back of your head, breath hitching, “Nooo, I don’t- I wouldn’t!— ooh- agh- Mr. Riley!” your interrupting yourself with your own moans. Whatever anger you had before, folding into nothing.

He finally let’s go of your hands and you grip on to his leg, nails clawing at his jean cover thighs. Your stomach tightens running away as your orgasm builds but Simon follows, thrusting his fingers into your gummy walls even more, curving them to find your sweet spot with determination.

“Eaaasy now, don’t want to hurt you. Be good ‘nd cum. Know you want to, make a mess all over me darlin’.”

And that’s all it takes, with a twitch and a squeal, your cumming all over his hand. Simon thrusts his fingers a couple times, watching the wave of euphoria wash over you before sucking one of fingers clean, then bringing the other to your mouth.

“Come on, don’t be fuckin uppity, taste it lil girl” he tsked, you take the middle finger in your mouth, tasting your own arousol, swirling your tongue around it. Slowly pulling your head back with a ‘pop.’ It all goes straight to the blondes aching dick.

You hear it, the unbuckling of his belt, your stomach touching the tint that had built because of you. your mind finally snaps out of the trance he’s got you in. You barley manage to get out of his lap, scrambling through the hay, tripping over your underwear, on your as knees. Giving Simon the perfect view of your tender ass and the slick that’s dripping down to your thigh before you turn when you meet a wall. Pushing yourself into it.

“We- shit- someone- someone’ll come!” You ramble out, panting, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm. Your eyes avert to anything in this barn besides the man infront of you. But he made his way over to you, slow, stalking. And once he’s on his knees and hovering above you, he springs his cock from from his boxers. The blonde is hung, large and girthy, his tip strawberry red and leaking pre cum.

He bends down, sliding his fat cock between your wet folds, and then smacking his tip on your clit creating a plap, plap, plap. You can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

“You want it don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, taunting you, goosebumps wave over your skin. “Don’t want me all the way,” he traces over your belly, and then pokes right where your uterus is, “up here, hm?”

“Don’t want me to make you feel good pretty girl? Don’t wanna feel it once?”

Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s pulsing through you, the way he’s looking down on you like you’re pathetic, dick crazed maniac. And maybe that’s exactly what you are, just once— you just want feel him stir your guts just. this. once.

“I do.”

And your soft voice is just enough for the brute to yank your legs open, Simon throwing your legs over his forearms and spreading your pretty hole open with just the tip. The man starts bullying himself inside the tightness of your pink walls.

He’s big. He’s too big. You hiccup, shoving at his shoulder while he’s splitting you in half, “Mr.Riley, ‘s so much! hicc- can’t. I can’t.”

He croons, slowly thrust more and more of his veiny length into you. “Come oooon city broad, thought you could take it? Don’t go runnin. Been runnin from me alllll this time little girl.”

“Bet you won’t do no shit like that again, ruining my damn property,” Simon hissed, smacking down your clit a few times. “Gonna fuck that nonsense outta that lil brain ‘f yours.”

“I won’t! I promise! Mmmph- I’ll be good! S-so good just for you. Always for you.” You mewled, one hands clawing at the wall behind you and other hand at his shoulder. He finally feels it, his cock reaching the very hilt of you, balls smacking your ass crack. The damn obscene sounds your syrupy pussy is making to keep him inside you, and his tip giving your cervix the messiest and he’s sure, the first kiss it’s ever received.

A baby.

You’d look so fucking sexy, being all plump with his fucking baby. He pushes your thighs back to you head further, jackhammering into your heat rough and mean.

“Five,” he mumbles, groping at one of your tits in his hand. Squeezing and kneading it like a vice.

“Wha-“

“You’ll give me five ‘f ‘em, won’t’cha? Make me a daddy.”

He’s talking nonsense, partially. Simon wasn’t dead set on five, he’d wanted a baseball team but he’d settle for whatever you wanted. One would do if it caused you too much strain. He’d take care of you and the baby, buy you whatever you asked for, have you sat on that back porch, in a rocking chair. Your hand on your full belly, watching him as he worked all lovingly.

Simon breath hitches, rolling his hips into yours with a grunt, fucking drunk at the thought of it. The thought of you, all while your pussy was squeezing on him like you were reading his fucking mind.

“C-christ almighty, I got lucky with you huh? A snug lil cunt like this deserves to be up filled up with my cum.”

You still couldn’t believe it, thee Simon Ghost Riley, was with you in this old barn fucking your brains out like you were fucking Eve in that damn garden, on top of a pile of hay. Both of you letting out moans and groans like animals that you’re sure anyone who stepped foot on property would be able to hear. It’s hot, and sweat is forming on both of your foreheads, your skin is sticky. Simon’s big balls hitting your ass every punch of his tip into you G Spot. both of your eyes hazy, stupid off the other getting off.

“Feel so gooood M-Mr. Riley! So much!” You keen, reach for the bandana hiding his face. He always pushes your hand away but then he remembers what you’re about to be— his lover, his wife— the mother of hic children.

“Mamma’s gotta know the face of ‘er children’s daddy right? pull it off.” And you do, tugging it. And god, maybe this whole ordeal got you lucky.

So damn pretty. A scar on his nose, another one at the end of his pink lips, blonde strands swaying everytime he ruts into you, “Mr. Riley’s sooo pretty,” you slur, talking to him like it’s some secret. You’re lucid in his cock, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure while you stomach coils up.

“Uh-uh, eyes on me city broad, look at me!” He squeezes your cheeks together, planting a fat kiss on your smooshed lips. He snaps his hips forward, and your head would’ve hit the wall from how good you feel. But Simons still got your pretty face in his hands.

“Gonna have ya allll bare foot ‘nd pregnant, waddlin yer cute ass ‘round here with a ring on that finger.” He’s telling you, as if this is already happened and he’s seein it with his own eyes. All you can do is moan at his words. You can’t even form a sentence at this point. Just nodding your ditzy little head while he gives you his dick.

“Gonna be a pretty fuckin mamma too, fu- shit baby, your pretty tits all full with milk for our kin— damn, you love the sound ‘f that dontcha? You can deny it all ya wont, but she’s achin for it.”

God, you are. She is too. You didn’t even know how greedy your pussy was being as he pistoned in and out of you, “Gonna— gonna cum, fuck I’m gonna-“

“-Yeah, thaaat’s it lucky, come all over your husbands cock.”

All you can utter is a ‘s-shit’ when your orgasm smacks you, your toes curling in your converses, thighs shaking in Simons hold.

The blonde gets you in a headlock, smooshing you down into the floor further, brushing your curls with hay out of your gorgeous face. rutting into you as your walls clamp onto him, begging for his all milk he’s able to give you.

Simon growls, and the strings of cum fill your womb. Your clammy bodies are still stuck together as he rocks the last bit of cum into. Mumbling while kissing your neck, “take it lucky it’s all yours. Gotta keep you nice ‘nd full if you’re gonna get pregnant.”

It’s quiet finally. The barn itself is old and creaks but you can hear the chickens right down the steps clucking, the cicadas chirping, the breeze passing through the trees. The only think you hear are his and your pants,

Simon scoops you up in his arms, adjusting your dress to cover the mess he’s created thats dripping down on that barn floor with every steps he takes.

“Mr. Riley, where are we- where are we going?” You hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. All you can look at is him, a little in shock, a little blissed out. The only thing your able to focus on is the handsome man holding you against his chest. The way his heart pounds louder as he looks down at you.

“To the house. It just won’t take after one go.”

a/n: a draft that’s sitting since last month. Luv you bubs. Can’t wait to write more country!simon

most recent masterlist

[whosmariaaa]

— another angsty/ fluffy drabble of this !

college! sukuna loved arguing with you. the entire reason why he’s so head over heels for you, is because you don’t take his shit. at all. that seriously turns a man on.

yes, he promised himself he’d never make you feel really bad ever again. but riling you up is just a little too funny to resist! especially when you fall for it each and every time, because you do kind of have a temper.

you two are in his dorm, arguing about something stupid again. sukuna’d long forgotten what the argument was even about. you secretly did too. now it was just purely because he wasn’t taking you serious.

“do i look like i’m fucking joking to you, sukuna?!” you yelled, seriously pissed off. that disgusting, stupid smirk of his was glued to his face, making your frustration a thousand times worse.

“calm your tits, sweetheart. you’re always so pissy all the time, i worry you’re going to pop a fucking blood vessel,” he mocked.

this jerk! you curled your fists into your hair, and honestly felt like pulling it all out. “what the hell is your problem, you asshole?” you snarled.

he huffed, “you’re my damn problem, y/n. you’re lucky you’re still my girl even with all those anger issues,” sukuna commented, his tone a little more harsh.

he still had a grin on his face, but his insult still hurt all the same. and you barely felt the tears building up in your eyes.

sukuna was a firm champion at getting on your nerves. he found it hilarious, his number one source of entertainment, but you were seriously contemplating pushing him out of the window.

you stared at him, eyes narrowed, nose slightly scrunched. it was quiet for a few seconds. no ordinary person would’ve noticed your eyes getting a little wet, but of course your boyfriend did.

“what? ya gonna fucking cry now over a joke, baby?” he replied meanly. “didn’t take you for a crybaby with all that attitude, hmm?” sukuna added.

okay, sure, he could’ve said worse things, but you still felt hurt. and also stupid for crying, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“whatever, man. go find yourself another girl that isn’t a crybaby then,” you sniffled. at that, sukuna paused, and his grin disappeared.

to him, you had a tendency to be dramatic, but this time, something in his stomach felt off.

you hurriedly grabbed your jacket and raced out the dorm, leaving him behind. you wiped your tears, and just… walked. not to your dorm, not to campus, just no where in particular. you were just strolling through tokyo, through the damn rain.

but after one hour of not replying to his calls or texts, or better yet, coming back, your boyfriend had started losing his shit.

sukuna was a crap boyfriend. he was a mess. but he loved you oh so dearly, even if he struggled to show you. and now he felt even worse knowing he made his poor girl cry on purpose.

the second sukuna knew you weren’t coming back for the night, he grabbed his bike and searched through tokyo’s streets for you.

he spotted you eventually. soaking wet because of the rain. hood up, eyes a little droopy. the sight made his heart feel heavy for some reason.

at the sound of sukuna’s bike, you turned your head slightly. “what?” you snapped.

“c’mere, sweetheart, let me take you home, aight?” he offered. you glared at him, and flipped him off.

“don’t be difficult, baby. i won’t be an ass anymore,” he replied.

you scoffed, “fuck outta here. leave me alone.”

sukuna surpressed a sigh at your response. “drop the fucking attitude, y/n, and get on the fucking bike,” he sneered.

you clicked your tongue, sighed… but complied. you were soaked to the bone, and honestly all you wanted to do was curl into sukuna’s arms again. not like you’d tell him.

the drive to the dorms was mostly silent. at stoplights, he’d rub your thigh with his thumb, but words weren’t really exchanged.

but, eventually sukuna cracked. “sorry, sweetheart. s’my fault for getting you so riled up,” he told you. you sniffled, “it’s okay.”

“it’s not. but i love you. and i know i’m fucking up every single chance i get from you, i fucking know. but i’m trying, okay?” he said. he grabbed your hand, and placed a kiss on it. you didn’t really reply, but sukuna knew you heard him. and for now that was enough.

safe to say, sukuna attempted to not get on your nerves as much anymore. i mean, he still did. everytime you’d yell at him or sass him, his pants would still tighten, but he started listening to you more. that man loved you more than anything, and more than anything did he want to show you.

──★˙🍓̟!! i hate this so much goodbye. idk it’s not bad but i feel like i could’ve done better. i’m sorry babe @fictionalmen4eva i tried my best, but thank you sosoosos much for the request!!!💗 i do feel like sukuna would be his girlfriend’s 1# ragebaiter just bc he can😣

— taglist ! @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @stars4you777 @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @seizecherry @xlilycoco @v1x3n @go-go-gadget-autism @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @paradisestarfishh @13-09-01 @misticsilver @whosmarjj @seellove @aquariusscollection @satorushousewife @rwirxles @anonnieghost @bitchpleaseeeeeeeeee-blog @iminloveweveryone @poopooindamouf @phisen @ryomku @erintaro @clp-84 @mastermasterlist1p1 @katsukiseyebrows @happy2delivur @jup1tersuccubus @nxcxllxsevens @realalpacorn @kxgumi @crankyarchives @itsjustisa @junitries @kodzukensworld @bnbaochauuu @tomsxslvt @flwerie @bwlol7 @szuuyl @grignardsreagent @yourangel04 🍓

[mercvry-glow]

Busy Bee

parings. jack abbot x wife!reader

summary. you and your son take a trip to the pitt after an encounter with a bee. unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, your husband's working.

warnings. age gap (jack mid/late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), reader is allergic to bees, overprotective!jack, boy-dad!jack, typical hospital setting, no death, hurt/comfort but mainly comfort, other pitt characters, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. local boy dad truther hopped into the pitt fandom, but this popped into my mind and I haven't been able to let it go. these will probably be a set of drabbles and one-shots if it gets enough traction, but please enjoy and any feedback is appreciated! also I am not a medical professional, but I tried my best to sound realistic.

wc. 2700+

side drabble of the aftermath

part two: where we fit

“We got a woman in her late twenties to early thirties, went into anaphylactic shock at the park due to a suspected bee sting. Vitals stabalized after we gave her Epi, but the swelling in her throat and the hives covering her chest, neck and arms is pretty extensive.” 

Just another normal day in the Pitt. 

“It is starting to be that season,” Dr. McKay said lightly as she did her own assessment while a few interns watched, “Did she have anyone with her? Who called?” 

The EMT gave a small gesture to her partner who was walking in behind them with a small boy, maybe five or six, who looked worried. “Couple of joggers passed them and found him with her failed EpiPen, they called after that.” 

Cassie could only nod as she thought about her own son experiencing that, “Alright Mohan come with me we’re gonna take her to south-15. Mel, can you talk to the boy and see if there’s anyone we can call for him?” 

Going to their respective tasks, McKay and Mohan took the young mother and Melissa went to introduce herself to the boy. He was still standing with the EMT, clutching his hand tightly while watching the hustle and bustle that was the emergency department. 

“Hey… Can I talk to him?” Mel approached slowly and the EMT squatted down to look the kid in his eyes. “I have to go now but uh- Dr. King here is gonna take really good care of you while your mommy gets help, okay?” The boy just nodded, going to hold his own hand. 

“What’s your name?” Mel asked, offering her own hand for him to take as they walked away. His grip was soft, if not a little clammy, and he toddled behind her as she led him to the family room. “Lucas…” he took his own deep breath, unsure of himself and the situation. 

“I heard something pretty scary happened at the park. Are you doing okay?” Lucas gave a little shrug, giving her hand a squeeze at the mention of the incident at the park. 

“I think so, is my mommy gonna be okay? Daddy says bees are bad for her, and the pen is supposed to make her better but it didn’t...” 

Mel opened the door to the family room, having Lucas sit in one of the chairs near the small coffee table. She had learned in the past couple of months that children liked to be distracted in situations like these. Clearly the little boy was feeling down, his once peaceful day at the park now ruined by an unfortunate accident. 

She sat down beside him, helping him take off the backpack he was wearing hoping maybe there were some more identifying clues lying within the blue cloth.  “Well your dad must be very smart, but your mom is being taken care of by some really cool doctors and I think she’s gonna be okay and excited to see you again.”

Unzipping the bag, Mel gave Lucas a gentle smile as they pulled out the contents together. Inside were the usual kid essentials — a juice pouch, a small sketchpad with dinosaurs drawn in crayon, and a pair of cleats and matching socks balled up and forgotten at the bottom. She sifted carefully, searching for anything that might tell them who else to contact. A pair of car keys sat in the front pocket, but no wallet or any other identifying placards. The EpiPen sat visibly in the mesh side holster, unadministered and effectively useless now. The air was light between the pair while the Intern thought of her next moves, and Lucas had started coloring next to her to keep his mind off of things. 

  She thought about askin Robby or Dana for next steps, and definitely wanted Kieara to stop by. “Are we able to contact your dad? I’m sure he’d want to know what happened,” Mel said, stumped at what to do next. 

“He’s pretty busy and um- his number sheet is in my other bag in the car… Mommy was supposed to make two, but this is the fun bag so it wasn’t supposed to matter.” Lucas explained, though that’s fair considering he’s only five or so. 

“Oh! Well where does he work? We could try calling them and he should be able to come here,” 

Lucas closed his eyes and wiggled around in his chair as he tried to remember the name, “Uhhh- oh Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center!” 

Mel’s eyes lit up at the mention of the very hospital they were in. “Well that’s where we are! Let me go grab someone real quick and we can start asking around, how does that sound?” Lucas silently agreed and went back to coloring as the blonde woman left the room. 

The Intern succuried around, hoping to find Dr. Robby in a moment of peace where she could talk to him about the situation. Thankfully, the older man was sitting near the nurses station typing away at one of the computers. 

“Dr. Robby! I uh- I have the son of a patient who was admitted not too long ago, he said his dad works here and I was hoping you could help us locate him? He’s only about five so he doesn’t remember too much besides that.” Mel stood expectantly, as the older man got up and pushed his chair in. 

“Lead the way Dr. King, let's find this boy's dad.” Robby ran a hand down his face as he followed after Melissa who was leading him to the family room. Putting on a brave face, he hoped to god this wasn’t going to lead into a hospital wide manhunt. They kept a steady pace, pausing outside the door. “What was the other patient admitted for?” He asked, needing to know if this would be bad or not. 

“Mom was taken to South-15 after experiencing anaphylactic shock from a bee sting. The uh- EpiPen failed and some joggers helped them out, Dr. McKay was trearting her and everything was stable when we left besides the swelling and hives she had.” she explained keeping her recounting of it short, really wanting to find Lucas’s father as soon as possible. 

The two stepped inside the small room, the young boy sitting in the same cramped chair, picking at the sleeve of his sweater. 

“Hey, Lucas. This is Dr. Robby he’s gonna help-” Mel could barely get the rest of her sentence out before the boy looked up and rushed into the arms of the man beside her. 

“Uncle Mikey!” he cried out, latching onto the older doctor who scooped him up. 

“Hey Luke, what are ya doing here buddy?” Still a bit shocked, Robby gave the boy a quick scan looking for any sign that something could be wrong, “I heard your mom got stung by a bee.” 

Lucas let out a small sniffle, resting his head on the shoulder of his uncle. “It was scary… an-and mommy left her phone in the car so-so I couldn’t call anyone!” He kept his little body close, fists locked onto the blue hoodie Robby was known for wearing. He was still scared, just now beginning to process everything that had happened in the past hour or so. 

Mel stood off to the side, letting the two talk amongst themselves for a few moments. “You know Dr. Robby, Lucas?” 

The pair turned to her and Robby adjusted the boy so he could see the woman a bit better. “Dr. King meet Lucas Abbot, I’m surprised he didn’t say so sooner-probably the nerves.”  The older man looked down to the boy who was still clinging to him, the only familiar person he had seen since arriving to the PTMC. “You wanna go find your dad?” 

Lucas nodded a resounding yes, keeping his face buried in the neck of the older man hoping he would keep carrying him. 

“Dr. King, I got it from here if you want to go back and work,” Mel took her leave after that, giving Lucas a small wave goodbye before going back into the fold. 

Robby set the small boy down, repacking the scattered items back into the bag. He tried not to think about the faulty EpiPen, or how Jack was going to react upon finding out what had occurred. If anything that man was protective, and if hearing that his wife had been admitted didn’t set him off—hearing his son was here and hadn’t been able to contact him definitely would. 

“Yo Dana, we have a visitor with us today.” The brunette gave the curls on Lucas’s head, a trait he got from his father, a small rub, as they got to the charge nurse’s attention. The blonde let out a small gasp as she bent down to give the boy a hug. 

“And what are you doing here, little man? Where’s your mama? Your Dad’s running all over the place today, have you seen him yet?” She looked back up at Robby, holding the boy close. 

The older man gave a small shake of his head, a knowing look in his brown eyes. “She’s uh- She’s in south-15 and we were actually looking for Jack, have you seen him?” 

Dana glanced at the board, “He was about to discharge a patient from north-8, you could probably catch him before the next Ambo pulls up.” 

“Alright, buddy,” Robby said, offering his hand to Lucas again. “Let’s go find your dad before he disappears on us.”

Dana gave the boy one more quick squeeze and a wink before standing up again. “Tell him to take five once you find him. He’s been running around since before you got here.”

They made their way toward the north wing, weaving between carts and stretchers, the bustle of the hospital constant. Lucas stayed close, wide-eyed but silent, clutching Robby’s fingers like a lifeline.

As they rounded the corner near North-8, Robby spotted him—Dr. Jack Abbot clipboard in hand, shoulder leaning into the doorway of a patient room as he gave discharge instructions with that familiar composed intensity. Even from here, Robby could see the stress around his eyes. Whatever calm Jack projected, it wasn’t rooted deep today. The patient stepped away into the crowd of people and Robby stepped into view, catching his eye.

Jack nodded a little when he saw him, expecting a routine update—until he saw the small figure beside him.

“Lucas?”

The clipboard hit the counter with a clack.

Lucas let go of Robby’s hand and ran straight into his father’s arms, the impact knocking the breath out of Jack for half a second.

“Hey—hey, what—” Jack crouched down, holding Lucas tightly, searching his face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lucas clung to him like a koala, cheeks red and eyes glassy. “Mommy’s sick,” he whispered. “The pen didn’t work. I tried, but it didn’t work.”

Jack’s face paled. His arms tightened instinctively. “Where is she?”

“South-15,” Robby answered quietly, giving the man a moment before continuing. “It was a bee sting. The EpiPen failed. She was treated right away, vitals are stable, McKay’s with her.”

Jack didn’t move at first, just held his son close, forehead resting against Lucas’s curls as he processed it all—the sudden fear, the guilt, the helplessness. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“I didn’t even know—no wonder she wasn’t answering her phone.” His voice cracked.

“She’s okay,” Robby reminded him gently. “And your son? Absolute champ. Kept his head until the crews showed up.”

Lucas pulled back just enough to look at him. “I didn’t cry. I was gonna, but I didn’t.”

Jack smiled through the tightness in his chest. “Good job, bud.”

He stood up slowly, Lucas still in his arms, and turned to Robby. “I need to see her.”

Robby nodded. “Go on, Brother. I’ll let Dana know what’s going on, let her know you’re clocking off early.” He handed over the backpack and let the father/son duo head off. 

Making their way to you, where you were taken was a bit more private than other rooms and the soft beeping could be heard from outside. The two stopped outside, Jack prepping the boy for what he was about to see. 

“Hey…So mommy’s probably gonna be sleepy and she might have a hard time talking okay? We should be able to see her though.” Lucas nodded into his dad’s shoulder, his small fingers tightening around the fabric of Jack’s black scrub top.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I won’t be loud.”

Jack gave a little smile at that, brushing his son’s curls down gently before reaching for the door. The soft click of the handle felt louder than it should have, and as they stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic mixed with something heavier—like adrenaline and the memories embedded within the room.

The room was dimly lit, with only the overhead light above your bed on. You were propped up slightly, eyes closed, an oxygen cannula under your nose. Your arm had an IV line, and Princess was quietly making notes on the monitor screen.

Jack’s breath hitched in his throat.

Lucas didn’t say anything right away. His gaze was locked on you, his brown eyes wide and unreadable as he stared at his mom, so happy and full of life only hours ago, now tucked into white sheets with wires and machines surrounding her.

“Mommy…” he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound, sluggish but aware. You turned your head slightly, the movement slow and pained, but unmistakably focused on him.

Jack stepped closer, kneeling beside the bed so Lucas could see you better.

“She’s awake,” Jack said softly. “You can say hi, baby.”

Lucas’s lip trembled, but he leaned toward you. “I’m sorry,” he blurted suddenly. “I tried with the pen but it didn’t work and I was scared and I couldn’t call—”

Your fingers twitched and slowly reached for him, and Jack gently helped guide Lucas’s hand to yours. Holding the both of yours within his strong grip.

“You did so good, baby,” you said, your voice hoarse but warm. “I’m okay, and you were so brave.”

Lucas crawled gently onto the edge of the bed, careful not to bump into any of the cords or wires. He curled up beside your arm, still holding your hand tightly.

Jack sat in the chair beside the bed, rubbing his face and finally letting out a shaky breath.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he said quietly, half to himself, half to you. You gave him a tired smile, and Jack reached up to brush your hair from your face.

“But you’re here,” he said. “And we’re okay. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky we weren’t closer to Pres, would’ve really lost your shit…” you gave him the best smile you could muster, while he gave you a knowing look. 

He let out yet another sigh, still keeping your hand in his. “We need to get you another EpiPen, and put my goddamn number in that park bag.” 

“You have fun with that, babe,” you murmured, voice still rough but tinged with just enough sass to draw a soft snort from Jack.

“Oh, I will,” he said, dragging the chair a little closer to the bed. “You’re gonna have a laminated emergency list in every bag we own. Backpack, baseball bag, glove box—hell, I’ll sew one into your damn jacket lining if I have to.”

Lucas perked up a little at that, lifting his head. “I can start baseball?”

Jack looked over at him, mock-serious. “Only if you promise not to spill a bunch of stuff in the bag again.”

Lucas giggled for the first time since they got there, that tiny sound easing something deep in Jack’s chest. You chuckled too, though it ended in a soft wince as your ribs reminded you what happened.

Jack leaned forward instinctively, hand pressing lightly over yours again. “Easy,” he murmured.

“I’m fine,” you reassured, but your grip on his fingers said another thing.

I love you, I’m sorry. 

The room fell into a quiet rhythm after that—the soft hum of monitors, Lucas gently dozing off against your arm after hours of turmoil, Jack watching both of you with an expression halfway between exhaustion and fierce devotion.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a moment, just for him.

He looked up.

“For having such good doctor friends, for loving me… For being a good dad,”

Jack leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Always.”

mercvry-glow 2025