#if i continue the metaphor then i came back to the kitchen after it was deep cleaned and the food on the pan was gone

[cairafea]

the primordial desire to fight a krill is at the top of maslow’s hierarchy of needs

[ad0rechuu]

FROM STORM TO SUNRISE. ━━ JYH & SMG

prompts / plot. ━━━━━ you and your boyfriend yunho wake up to find your other boyfriend mingi no where to be found

part of the secret santa event. ━━━━━ fem! foreigner!reader x boyfriends! jeong yunho & song mingi , domestic fluff / slight angst (?) / an attempt at humor / soulmate au , staring: yn, yunho, mingi, mrs yang (oc) & an unnamed baker + cashier , tw: mentions of food, metaphorical storms and tornadoes and yn is basically panicking most of the time , wc: 1421 , notes: no pronouns used but fem reader + foreigner part not mentioned and yunho & mingi aren’t soulmates but this is all because of the prequel, also i imagined the town from hometown cha cha cha for this fic !

[ to @justhere4kpop aka nadia . . . ] happy holidays (and merry christmas if you celebrate) nadia! i was your secret santa, did you have any idea? either way i have to start by apologizing i was planning a much larger fic but than a bunch of things in my personal life came crashing down so i decided to continue writing the other fic (the prequel to this one) later which means you will get two gifts ! i know the writing is terrible with this one but if you liked this someone how it’s a nice surprise for both of us! i hope you have a wonderful day and i love you mwah <3

[ listening to . . . ] Dreamy Day by Ateez

masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

WARM RAYS OF SUNSHINE SHONE GENTLY THROUGH THE LARGE WINDOW, ALLOWING YOU TO WAKE UP IN PEACE.

You slowly opened your eyes while you stretched your arms up from underneath the blankets, a smile making its way onto your face as you felt the arm draped over your stomach move you closer in his tight grip.

Turning, you met your boyfriend’s squinting eyes. Clearly, he'd just woken up too. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck and placed a kiss underneath your shirt on your bare shoulder— a silent good morning.

You'd just woken up and you already felt giddy. You moved your hand to the mattress next to you, searching for your other boyfriend’s warm body.

Your eyes opened fully, head snapping to his usual side of the bed when you realize he wasn't there. A small storm of worry brewed in your chest as you nudged your present partner, who seemed close to going back to dreamland.

He whined a bit and it took every bone in your body not to coo at him. You managed to get over your cuteness aggression enough to ask.

“Yunho, honey, where is Mingi?”

He was the early bird in your relationship after all. If anyone would know, it would be Yunho.

To your surprise, he didn't.

“I don’t know? Maybe in the kitchen? Bathroom?” He slurred, clearly not feeling the same sense of urgency as you yet.

“M’kay. I’m gonna look for Mingi. I’ll be right back.” You ruffled his already messy hair before removing yourself from his comfortable grip. The movement only caused more whining from the sleepy giant.

Yunho heard you make your way through the apartment. Your bare feet making a rhythm of soft steps on the linoleum floor, and your groggy but comforting morning voice called out Mingi’s name over and over again.

Your voice got more and more nervous with each call of his name ringing out with no response.

When you walked back into the bedroom, Yunho was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his phone in his hands. He gave you a worried look, the gravity of the situation finally catching up with him.

“Nothing?” He asked.

You fell back on the bed with a sigh as you shook your head no, racking your brain for where your boyfriend could possibly be at nine in the morning on the weekend. You felt Yunho reach over and gently push some hair out your face in an attempt to calm you down.

“I tried texting him but I got no answer either.”

Just as you were about to respond, a sharp feeling washed over you, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

You knew what that feeling meant. It only happened when your soulmate was experiencing a strong emotion. It could range from heartbreaking sadness to mind boggling happiness to excruciating pain.

You jumped up, clutching the arm that has Mingi’s soulmate mark on it. Your eyes met Yunho's.

“I think Mingi is in trouble!”

SADLY, A SOULMATE BOND did not include a GPS. At least, that was not the kind you were blessed with. That would have saved you the trouble of walking aimlessly through the town in your pajamas and winter coats.

Due to Yunho not being Mingi’s soulmate and your soulmate mark being basically sharing skin with Mingi, you were no further than when you left the house half an hour ago.

Yunho wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing it in an attempt to shield you from the cold morning weather on the island. It was a sweet gesture. The growing panic heated your cheeks more then enough, but you appreciated the comfort of it nonetheless.

He stopped his brisk pace for a second and looked at you like a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Have you tried writing to him?” He asked.

You responded immediately by looking through your pockets for a pen or a marker, or anything that could stain your skin, but to no avail.

Yunho had the same luck. But he pointed you to the closest store, and without any words needed, the two of you rushed into the building, probably giving the poor cashier a heart attack.

“Excuse me, do you have a pen or something I could borrow? It’s an emergency!” You panted as her face contorted in confusion. She reached over next to her and handed you a pen anyway.

Before you could, Yunho quickly but gently raised your sleeve up, baring your arm for you. Despite the pressure, it made you want to giggle like a school girl. You kept your lovey-dovey feelings to yourself and began to write.

‘Song Mingi, where the hell are you?’

Normally, whenever you’d write something on your body and vice versa (left side for Mingi, and right for Yunho), the receiving party could felt a tingling sensation even before reading the message. You hoped with all your being that Mingi received that sensation right then too.

After staring at your arm for five minutes, you began to feel your heart speed up even more when you heard Yunho gasp from next to you as the letters you previously wrote where erased.

Finally, you felt the storm that had turned into a tornado in your heart calm down a bit, and the letters you wrote were replaced by messy yet familiar handwriting revealing Mingi’s location.

THERE HE WAS.

Through the display window of the bakery, you and Yunho saw him.

Mingi clutched a colorful box while one of the village elders, Mrs. Yang, pulled on the other side. Both seemed to be in an intense battle as the baker behind the counter watched the two awkwardly.

The closer you got, the more it hit you; the sharp feeling you felt wasn’t sadness, anger, or pain— it was his sheer competitiveness.

Yunho held the door open and both of you stepped through with the sound of the bell signaling your arrival. The baker gave you a friendly nod, but neither Mingi nor Mrs. Yang seemed to notice you, still too fixated on arguing over what you now saw was a beautifully decorated cake.

“Song Mingi!” Your voice resounded through the store as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

The man in question immediately forgot about the cake and trailed towards you like a puppy. He looked at you and Yunho with big eyes full of confusion.

“Baby, what're you doing here? Gosh, both of you are wearing pajamas, aren’t you way too cold?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

He tossed Yunho a judgmental look as if suspecting he was the reason you guys were here.

The older man flicked Mingi’s forehead before shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like that. None of this would’ve happened if you knew how to answer your phone or leave a note.”

“Yeah, we were so worried something happened.” You grabbed his attention along with one of the hands that was still on your cheek.

Mingi looked down sheepishly, his cheeks slightly reddening.

“Ah, I’m sorry. You said you were craving cake yesterday so I wanted to surprise you and Yunho with cake as breakfast in bed.” He pointed behind him, doing a double take as the cake he was just ready to risk his life for was long gone.

A heartbroken expression made its way onto his face. He looked at the baker, who only chuckled.

“I’m sorry, man. You snooze you lose.”

The baker pointed outside, where Mrs. Yang was gleefully walking away from the bakery with the precious cake in her hands.

Yunho let out a boisterous laugh, clutching his stomach as you patted the pouting boy’s cheek. Though that wasn't to say you weren't trying to reign your own laughter in as well.

“It’s okay, Ming! It’s the thought that counts.”

After a couple more minutes of comforting Mingi about his lost battle, he finally agreed to get another sweet pastry (which Yunho demanded to choose as compensation for everything).

As you three walked out of the store, you didn’t feel a storm or a tornado brewing in your chest. You felt a lovely calm wash over you as both of your boyfriends linked hands with you, one carrying the box with a well-deserved red velvet cake in it on the way home.

All the worry was replaced in no time with a warm domestic sunrise growing in your heart, and you knew exactly who were to blame for that.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

notes. again i did the gen tag list on hopes and prayers so i hope i have it right, please tell me if u want to be removed or added

taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear @nyukyujs @a1sh1teruu | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)

[hellcat8908]

A Solstice To Celebrate Azriel x Reader

The third and final part of the Solstice series. Hope you enjoy. It's a bit of a long one.

Voices filter into the hallway from the dining room. You feel your chest tighten, worried about what they'll think. Azriel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as he leans in, gently reminding you to breathe. Azriel releases your hand just outside the dining room, not wanting to draw attention from what you're about to tell everyone. He takes a seat next to Rhys as the conversations quiet down once you're in the room. "Glad to see you feeling better." Mor tells you with a smile. You give her a soft smile in return, "I'm sorry if I worried any of you." You say sheepishly. "All that matters is you're okay." Rhys says as his eyes meet yours. "Thank you." You respond.

"So there's something I want you to know that will hopefully explain some of my weirder behavior lately." You say as you start fidgeting with your hands. "I don't really celebrate Solstice, not since my wings were taken." You admit before continuing, deciding to rip the metaphorical bandage off. "My husband took them in a fit of rage. When I gifted him the wrong sword, he used it to cut the wings from my back as punishment." You refuse to make eye contact with anyone as you allow them to process what you've said. You hear several swear under their breaths before Azriel demands to know where your husband is.

"He's dead. Once I was healed and had enough strength, I killed him and burnt the house down around him." You tell him. "The village where I found you..." Rhys says but trails off in thought. "That was my home. The tree behind the foundation is where it happened." You finish his sentence for him. You can feel the building rage coming from Azriel as he dwells on what you've said. You try to calm him through the bond, but his shadows still swirl around him agitated. "What happened when you went back after leaving here?" Rhys asks. "I winnowed there not knowing where else to go. When I saw the rubble that used to be the house and the tree where it happened, everything came flooding back, and it was like I was reliving it all over again." You answer calmly.

You watch as Azriel's body shifts, and before anyone realizes what happened, you vanish with him carrying you outside and into the night. As soon as he clears the wards, his shadows surround you in darkness before clearing to an open field with a cabin close by. "Where are we?" You ask, trying to get your bearings. "Rhys's cabin." Azriel answers before carrying you inside and starting a fire to warm the place up. "Why are we here?" You ask, confused. "So I can do this." He says before wrapping his arms around you and kisses you. You return his kiss as your arms wrap around him. He reluctantly breaks the kiss, "Are you hungry?" Your stomach growls in response, causing Azriel to laugh. "I'll take that as a yes." He says before moving towards the kitchen.

He stops searching the cupboards as he zones out a bit. You watch for a few minutes, taking in his expressions. Once he focuses on finding something to cook again, you ask, "Rhys?" He turns his attention to you and nods. Before you feel him against your mental shield. "Guess it's my turn." You say before allowing Rhys in. "What the hell is going on?! Are you alright? Where are you?" He bombards you with questions, a hint of concern in his tone. "I'm fine, and we're at your cabin." You answer. "That's two out of the three questions answered." He presses. "You'll have to ask the spymaster the answer to your other question." You say with a smile. "We'll discuss it when you're both back. Are you sure you're ok?" He asks. "I'm sure." You reassure him.

"Well, that was fun." You say as you turn your focus back to Azriel. "Sorry." He says with a smirk. "No, you're not," you tease, "I think it would've been less dramatic if you'd just kissed me in front of everyone." Azriel finally finds some soup to make for you, "Where is the fun in that? Besides, I wanted our first kiss to be just for us." He says. You blush at his thoughtfulness as you watch him cook. "Since you're making me food, does this mean you still want the mating bond?" You ask nervously, "even though I'm damaged goods?" He stops stirring the soup and turns the stove off before coming over to you. He gently takes your hands in his as you look up at him. "You may be a lot of things, angel, but damaged isn't one of them."

"Have you had to go through some cruel events, yes, but you never gave up. You kept pushing through it and came out the other side. I'll never see you as damaged, and I refuse to let you see yourself as damaged." He says, cradling your face in his hands. You lean into his warmth, finding comfort in his words. "Let's get you fed." He says with a smile as he resumes making you soup. Once it's hot and ready, he brings you a bowl with some crackers. Your stomach growls at the delicious scent before you gently blow on a spoonful to cool it. Azriel brings his bowl over and sits beside you on the couch.

"You do realize the implications of you making me food, right?" You say nervously. "I do. I want nothing more than to love you the way you deserve to be loved." He says as he studies the spoonful inches from your mouth. You give him a shy smile before savoring the soup. You feel the bond ignite at the acceptance, and suddenly, everything feels more intense. Azriel feels the shift, but before you can move to him, he tells you to finish eating first. You secretly love that he is more worried about you being taken care of than having you.

"We have the rest of our lives for that, but you need to eat." He says, almost as if he can read your mind. The two of you finish the bowls while listening to the crackling of the fire. You move to grab Azriel's empty bowl, but he holds it out of reach, "I'll get it, angel you just rest while I clean up." You stop him, "you cooked, so I'll clean." You tell him as you move to take his bowl again. "We'll both clean." He says as he rises and takes his bowl to the kitchen. "You and your compromises." You say as you trail behind him. "Get used to it." He says over his shoulder. There isn't much to clean up, so you're done in a matter of minutes.

Azriel picks you up and carries you towards the hallway. "Is this going to be a regular thing? You picking me up and carrying me off to wherever you want me?" You ask with a laugh. "It just might be." He says as you enter the bedroom. He carefully lays you on the bed. You pull him in beside you as your lips find his in a passionate kiss, unable to control yourself any longer. His fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you close to him, returning the kiss. Your hands trail under his shirt, feeling his hard abs as they slide up his muscled chest. "I need you, Azriel." You moan as your lips break from his. "I know, angel, I need you too." He groans as your lips trail along his neck.

The next morning, you wake up wrapped in his arms with his wings shielding you from the sunlight. He stirs as you move to get up. "Stay, it's still early." He mumbles half asleep. "I need to use the girls' room." You tell him. "Hurry up." He says as he reluctantly lets go of you. You give a small laugh as you climb out of bed. You return as quickly as you can, and Azriel wraps you back up in his arms. Your head rests on his chest, "It's too early to be thinking that hard." He mutters. You smile and turn to face him. He opens one eye to find you staring. "Guess we're done sleeping. What's on your mind?" You suddenly turn nervous, causing him to sit up and hold you in his lap. "Was I too rough last night? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks with his voice full of concern as he searches for visible marks or injuries.

"No, you were amazing last night." You reassure him. "Then what is it?" He asks softly, meeting your eyes. "I've been thinking, and I know it's last minute, but I think I want to try to celebrate Solstice with everyone." You tell him waiting for his reaction. Azriel brushes stray hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear, "I will support you and help you any way I can but I need to know you're wanting to do this for you and nobody else. I want you to be ready and feel pushed or rushed." He says after a few moments of thought. "I gave it some thought, and I think I'm ready. I don't want the past to have any control over my future." You answer him honestly. "I'm here for whatever you need, angel." He says with a gentle kiss. "There are a few things I need your help with." You admit before telling him, feeling excited when he agrees.

You find yourself sitting next to Azriel in Rhys's office. "Is someone going to tell me what that was about?" He says as he leans back in his chair. "I think Azriel should be the one to tell you since it was his stunt." You answer with a grin. "Thanks, y/n. Real mature." He teases. "Someone just explain what that was about!" Demands Rhys as he looks between the two of you. "I wanted some alone time with my mate." Azriel says much to the shock of Rhys. "Did you know?" Rhys asks, looking at you. "No, I didn't know he was going to haul me off." You answer. "I meant, did you know about the bond." Rhys states. "Oh yeah, I learned about it yesterday and accepted it last night." You answer while looking at Azriel.

"You could've told the rest of us. So we had some idea what was going on." Rhys says as he rubs his temples. "Where's the fun in that?" Azriel asks while taking your hand in his. "Besides, I thought I'd dropped enough on everyone last night to start with." You add. Rhys stares at the two of you trying to read you. "Well, I'm happy for both of you as long as you're happy." He finally says, seeming content with the news. "Thank you." You tell him. "Azriel, you better treat her right after everything she's already been through." Rhys teases. "You know I will." Azriel says with a smile. "I'll let you announce it to the rest of the circle when you're ready." Rhys says before dismissing the two of you.

Once you're outside, Azriel takes your hand, "Ready to do some shopping?" He asks. "Ready as I'll ever be." You answer nervously. He pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you. "I'll be right here every step of the way. You've got this." He says with a reassuring smile as you head towards the shops. At first, you're second guessing everything you point out, only causing yourself to feel frustrated and defeated. Sensing your distress, Azriel pulls you aside and places your hand over his heart. "Breathe, angel. Focus on my heartbeat and breathe." Once he feels you calming down, he lowers your hand after placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"No matter what you pick out, they are going to love it. You know them and what they like. You just have to trust yourself." He tries to reassure you making you feel a little better. "You can do this, just trust yourself." He continues before pulling you into a jewelry store to find something for Amren. After finding a beautiful bracelet and purchasing it, your shopping trip becomes easier and even enjoyable. You're looking for a gift for Cassian when Azriel excuses himself, telling you he'll be right outside for a few minutes. You nod in acknowledgment before finding a cologne perfect for Cassian. By the time you've checked out, Azriel is back.

"I hate to cut this short, but Cassian needs my help at the house." He says with a frown. "It's okay, I was about done anyways. Go help him and I'll meet you at the house in a bit." You tell him with a smile. "You sure you're okay?" He asks. "I only have one more gift to get, and I'll be home." You tell him before kissing him softly, "Now go help Cass." You instruct him. "I'll see you at home." He says before turning and taking off towards the house of wind. You make your way towards the bladesmith shop. You shield the bond before your nerves get the best of you. Once you're inside your breathing shallows but you fight to maintain control.

You notice the beautiful work on each blade and the attention to detail. You admire several as you fight the urge to turn and run. You continue to browse until you see the perfect piece. You start to seconds guess yourself as you hold it, Azriel's earlier words coming back to you about trusting yourself. Before you can second guess yourself again, you purchase it and walk out of the shop with the bag added to your others. Your heart racing with excitement and pride that you actually managed to do it. You got a gift for everyone now. You just needed to take them home and wrap them. You had Rhys take you home to the house of wind. Azriel was still busy helping Cassian, so you started wrapping gifts.

You had just finished wrapping the last one when Azriel knocked on the door. His was the first one you wrapped and hid out of sight. He let himself in as you tucked Amren's present with the rest of them. "How did it go with Cassian?" You ask. "Good, just needed some help with last-minute Soltice decorations Feyre and Nesta wanted to put up. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" He asks. "Got all my shopping done, and the presents are wrapped, so I would say so." You answer. "That's not what I meant, angel." He responds. "I know, but honestly, I'm excited and nervous about tomorrow. I don't want to ruin their Solstice." You admit. He pulls you into his lap on the bed. "You wouldn't ruin anyone's Solstice. They'll be thrilled you even attempted." He says, making you feel a little better.

That night, you struggled to sleep as Solstice drew closer. Even wrapped in Azriel's arms, you were a knotted mess of nerves and anxiety. "Angel, it's late. You need to get some rest." Azriel mumbled. "I'm nervous." You answer softly. "Talk to me." He says as he sits up. "No, you need to get some sleep. I'll be ok." You try to assure him. "If you're up, I'm up. Now talk to me." He says, rubbing his face. "It's just jitters about tomorrow and celebrating my first Solstice since you know." You say. "Everything will be fine, and the first hint you're not alright, we'll leave." He says, reminding you what you talked about. "What if they're mad I show up unannounced?" You ask. "Nobody will be mad. They will be happy to see you regardless if you stay the whole time or not."

He gently pulls you against him so your head is on his chest. "Angel, I promise you have nothing to worry about. You have nothing to prove to anyone. You take as long as you need to work through this, and I promise to be here every step of the way." He kisses the top of your head and pulls the blankets over you. He gently rubs your back as you listen to his heart. As you start to drift, you mumble, "I love you, Azriel." He smiles as it'll the first time you've said it. "I love you too, y/n. Sweet dreams." He says as he gently plays with your hair until you're both asleep.

You stand in front of your closet, struggling to find something to wear. Azriel walks in with a box, "I thought you might like to wear this." He says as he hands you the box. You open it and recognize the dress Mor had bought for you. "Oh, Azriel, I can't..." You start but are interrupted when he tells you to look at the back. Once you pull it out and turn it around, your eyes quickly find his. "Azriel..." You start but are lost for words. "I had the seamstress alter it. I know you hated to return it, and after learning why I knew I needed to get it." He says. "It's just as beautiful with a back." You say excitedly as you hold it up to yourself. "Go ahead, put it on." He urges as you unzip the back and step into it. "Oh, Az. It's stunning and fits perfectly." You announce after looking in the mirror.

You anxiously stand outside the river house. "Are you ready?" Azriel asks beside you. "Ready as ever." You answer though you're filled with anxiety as you hear everyone gathered. Azriel leads you inside, taking your coat and hanging it up with his. He leads you into the living room where everyone is gathered. "Y/n!" Mor shouts with excitement as she comes to hug you. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" She asks. "I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case I didn't." You admit. "All that matters is you're here now." She says before pulling you closer to the festivities. Azriel sends a wave of calming love along the bond as you sit beside Mor. Feyre offers you a drink that you gladly accept. After a while of conversation, you finish your drink as it helps calm your nerves.

"It's time for presents." Rhys announces as a stack of presents appears in the center. Him and Feyre start passing them out as Azriel moves to stand beside you. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close, warming your body with his. "Are you okay?" He asks barely above a whisper. "So far." You whisper back. Once the presents are handed out, everyone starts opening them. Your breath catches as you notice some of the presents you bought being opened. Mor loves the dress you got her but quickly frowns, "We didn't get you anything." She says, feeling guilty. "All I wanted for Solstice was to be with the ones I care about and who care about me enough to accept me for who I am." You tell her with a smile. "You all are amazing people, and I'm very lucky to have each of you as friends." You tell them all.

Once the presents have been opened, you manage to steal Azriel away. Once in the privacy of one of the guest rooms, you tell him you have a present for him. "Angel, you didn't have to get me anything. As long as I have you, that's all I need." He says. "You're all I need too, love. I still got you something, though." You pull out the small package and hand it to him. He carefully tears the paper and opens the box. "Do you like it?" You can't help but ask. He pulls out the dagger and gets a feel for it in his hand. "I love it! It's almost as beautiful as you." He says with a genuine smile. He admires the details from the damascus blade to the blue handle with silver pins. "Happy Solstice, love." You wish him. "Happy Solstice, angel." He says before pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

@anuttellaa

@hnyclover

@fightmedraco

[chans5oive]

moments when chan knew he loved you

Chan x reader

Genre: fluff!

warnings: none that i can think of!

Word count: 469

summary: moments when chan knew you were the one

A/n: not in chronological order!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Chan always knew there was something special about you from the moment he met you. He always sensed that you were the one.

It was your annual “sleepover movie marathon” with your best friend, Mina. This week it was at your shared apartment with Chan. You and Mina were sitting on the floor, your bodies pushed against the couch. You were both focused on the TV, shoving popcorn in your mouth as if it was muscle memory. When all of a sudden, chan walked through the door carrying various items from the day. He yells a sweet “hi!” Before being violently shushed by two excitable people. He chuckled before setting his items on the kitchen counter and making his way to you both. He quietly sits on the couch. You grabbed a handful of popcorn and held it up for Chan. He took it from your hand and let out a quiet thank you. You then being smacked repeatedly on his knee by you. “Oh oh oh this is the best part.” You say, your eyes still glued to the TV. You let out a frightfully ugly cackle followed by clapping and silent laughter. Chan looked at you as you continued your laugh. He felt his cheeks heat up and his stomach doing somersaults. He loved your ugly laugh no matter how ear piercing it was. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. After he snapped back to reality he then joined in on the laughing stopping to glance at you.

It was Chan and yours 4th date. Everything about the evening was perfect: candle lit dinner, the feeling of excitement eating both of you alive when getting ready, the season was when it was the shift between winter and spring (so the air was warm but just cold enough for Chan to be a gentleman and give you his jacket), both giggling at every accidental finger brush when walking until someone decides to be brave and grab the others hand. Both slightly blushing at the gesture. The Han river was in the back, the moon reflecting in its blue waves slightly distorting the moons perfect circle. A random playlist playing in your shared headphones which Chan suggested to listen to. As you stopped to admire the river and Seoul in its beauty, a song came on that excelled the romantic tension in the air. The slow tempo and soft melodies and romantic metaphors in the lyrics gave Chan a sudden confidence. He grabbed you attention so you were facing him and you looked at him with dewy eyes and a content smile. He leaned in slightly, you mimicking his actions. “Can i?” Chan whispered. You nodded. He closed the distance and sealed your first ever kiss with Chan. The first of many Chan hoped.

A/n: yall i cba to write anymore scenerios but if anyone has any ideas then pls lemme know <3

Taglist: @mazeinthemiroh@jisungsdaydreamer @fantasy2wonderland@anyamaris@chocotonez@linocvp1d

if anyone wants to be added or unadded let me know!!

[obxsummer]

A Change of Summer // OBX x TSITP Crossover (Part Two)

in which our favorite pogues continue to spend time with the only kooks they can stand. something is bubbling between you and jj, but it seems like the world keeps pushing you back to conrad every chance it gets...

conrad fisher x gn!reader x jj maybank

warnings: panic attacks, arguing, mentions of physical abuse, no use of y/n

a/n: i switched up the timeline of obx a little bit sorry not sorry. intended to be gender neutral so if I missed anything pls lmk!

navigation - part one

--

Conrad felt like shit. He had really screwed up this time. Not only was Belly pissed at him (and you), but he knew his mom would be so disappointed in the way he’d been acting. Susannah Fisher was steadfast regarding her boys, but she had no issues putting them in their place when needed. 

So, what did Conrad do? He called his mom and got his ass chewed for the issue he’d created, but in true Susannah fashion, she told him her best advice and reassured him everything would be okay. 

Growing up, Conrad was never good at handling emotions. His dad had drilled it into his head that as the eldest sibling (metaphorically to everyone except Jeremiah), he needed to lead by example. There was no room for mistake, no room for disagreement. Conrad grew up looking like the perfect kid when really, he was battling a lot more than homework and football championships. 

His anxiety started junior year of high school when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. The thought of her leaving, her leaving him with his dad, was enough to spark his first panic attack. Susannah never found out and Conrad made sure it stayed that way. He had a few more throughout high school, but the worst one came the night of the argument.

Conrad stepped back into the house after dropping Jeremiah off at a friend’s house. There was some party going on tonight but he had no interest in going. His brother, on the other hand, was a party animal who desperately needed to go. 

“How long?”

The elder Fisher boy stopped his movements by the front door. His mom’s voice was so upset despite the low volume of her question. He could tell she was in the kitchen but he couldn’t see who she was talking to.

“Two months.” Adam Fisher’s reply was short and to the point. 

Susannah let out an exhausted laugh. “Two months. I was in and out of chemo, taking care of the boys, being there as much as I could, and you were fucking your secretary!”

Conrad’s heart dropped and he took off up the stairs as quietly as possible. Tears burned his eyes, his bedroom turning blurry colors as he shut the door and stumbled into the ensuite bathroom. 

His dad cheated on his mom. While she was battling cancer, he was proving once again that he was a piece of shit and a lousy excuse for a dad. 

It was enough to make his stomach lurch as he collapsed on the tile floor and got sick. Every inch of his skin was prickly, his mind running in a million directions as tears fell across his cheeks. 

Cheated. Fucking your secretary. 

Conrad pressed his palm against his chest. Why did it feel like his heart was gonna burst? What… why? Oh god, should he tell Jere? He’ll be heartbroken, he loves his dad and-and oh no. This was so, so bad. He… He needed to call someone, someone….

Hands fumbled for his phone in his pocket but it was so so hard to see through the tears. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Stop crying, if someone sees you… Fuck. 

He doesn’t know where his fingers pressed but he knew the phone was ringing and someone would answer. Answer and help. 

“Conrad?”

Snapping out of his daydream, he recognized the same voice that answered the phone that night. The night everything went to shit. Your voice. It was always your voice echoing in his head, talking him through a panic attack that you didn’t understand until one day, you did.

“Everything okay?” 

His eyes blinked his contacts back into focus and he met your gaze before looking away just as quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out.” Susannah’s contact stared back up at him from his phone, their conversation ending not too long ago. The screen turned black.

You watched him curiously, knowing well enough that something had set him out of his normal attitude. “I’m uh gonna go look for an outfit for Midsummers. Do… do you wanna go? I would ask Belly but, yeah.”

Conrad perked up. This was his chance to talk to you, just like Susannah said. He nodded. “Uh, sure. Let me change really quick and I’ll be ready.”

You nodded, your body still tense from the courage it took to ask if he wanted to join you. It was one step in the right direction to fixing this cloud that had been covering everyone’s heads. 

--

Midsummers was huge in OBX. Easily the party of the summer, all members of the country club received an invite and the wardrobe was exquisite. Sarah’s father was being honored at the ceremony so you had promised you’d be there, which meant dragging everyone else along to join you.

You had originally planned on going shopping with Jeremiah since he would give honest opinions but he had to work with Steven. Belly was the next option, but since she was clearly uninterested in spending time with you right now, that wasn’t going to happen. You figured Conrad would at least give you someone to spare the pain of constant silence. 

The passenger seat in his Range Rover was all yours since he insisted on driving. You didn’t bother arguing, especially with how swollen your ankle was. He wouldn’t let you even if you asked. 

“Have you talked to your mom? I miss her.” Your question had good intentions as you turned to look out the window.

It caught Conrad off guard but he didn’t know why. You loved his mom and she loved you just as much, if not more. He made a left turn before answering, “Uh, yeah. This morning actually. She said they were having a pool and wine day before movie night.”

“Classic. Remember the one year they spilled the whole bottle of red in the pool?” You laughed loudly and clapped your hands. “They were so drunk they were going to try and drink it before it all ‘disappeared’.”

Conrad smiled, recounting the memory like it happened yesterday. So maybe the moms got a little too drunk on vacation but hey, that’s what vacation is for. 

You continued to stare out the windows, watching island life pass by. This was peaceful and it almost felt like how things normally did between the two of you. Conrad's dark hair tousled slightly in the wind from the sunroof as you watched him from behind your sunglasses. 

The thought of living life without him was heart-wrenching. You were stuck between the comfort of Conrad and the new freshness with JJ. Both boys had seen different sides of you and yet, it was so hard to know which one you wanted to run toward. 

Conrad glanced over at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled into a parking spot. "Are we going for casual cool or slightly dressed up?"

You shrugged and collected your stuff to bring inside. "As much as I hate to say it, I’m pretty sure it’s formal."

Conrad nodded in agreement, his gaze sweeping over the window displays. "Like…like deb ball formal or…?"

You smiled at his implication but shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The bell rang above the door as the two of you stepped inside. Cool air conditioning blasted you in the face as it did its best to keep out the hot humidity from outside.

You pulled out a few items, holding them up to your body and looking to Conrad for his opinion. He offered a nod of approval here and there, his eyes lingering on you as you discussed color palettes and styles.

More often than not, you had to be in a shopping mood to go through a bunch of outfits. Thankfully, it was holding strong or your grumpiness would’ve been seeping through after the second outfit.

After a few trial and error rounds, you emerged from the dressing room wearing your favorite choice yet. Conrad's eyes softened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips. He leaned against a display, arms crossed casually.

"I think we've got a winner," he said, his voice low and warm. Complimenting you felt so easy to him despite his usual hard attitude. His mom always said you brought out the best parts of him that he’d hidden away. 

You twirled slowly and looked it over in the mirror. "You think so?"

"Yeah. It suits you."

Your heart fluttered at the unspoken sentiment in his words. As you admired the outfit in the mirror, your fingers brushed over a delicate silver necklace that adorned your neck. It was the same necklace Conrad had given you years ago, a simple sun and mood pendant, intended as a joke but cherished ever since.

"You still wear that necklace?" Conrad asked, his tone was casual but the affection was easy to find under the surface.

Your fingers played with the pendant, a small smile on your lips. "Yeah, I love it."

Before your moment could linger further, the jingling of the shop's entrance bell announced the arrival of another guest. Rafe Cameron walked in, his intentions evident even from a distance. His eyes immediately fixed on you, and an overly familiar grin spread across his face.

A flicker of panic jumped in your chest. It wasn’t that you hated Rafe, he just didn’t know when to stop. And you had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Rafe drawled, approaching you with a look that was more predatory than charming. He was dressed as if he just came from the country club himself, which was likely true. The Rolex on his wrist was shiny in the store lighting, catching your eye for a split second before you looked at him.

Your smile was forced as you acknowledged him. Conrad's stance shifted subtly.

"Just shopping for Midsummers," you replied, your discomfort evident as you looked away from him. “Conrad, this is Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s older brother. Rafe, this is one of my family friends, Conrad Fisher.”

Rafe's gaze flicked from you to Conrad, his grin growing wider. Though you’d all seen each other at the bonfire, nobody bothered to do introductions so this was the first time he knew who you’d been with. "Oh, I see. You two are together?"

Conrad's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward just slightly. There were a lot of things he could say instead but he bit his tongue and held back. "We're just friends."

Rafe's smile didn't waver, in fact, it almost grew with the confirmation he was clearly looking for. "Well, that's a shame. Someone like you deserves someone who can really appreciate you."

Your discomfort deepened, and you spared a glance over at Conrad. He looked like he was going to snap at any second. "I’m perfectly capable of choosing who deserves me, Rafe. Thanks.

Rafe's smirk faltered for a moment before he chuckled as if amused by the tension. "Right, right. Well, I'll see you around."

As Rafe sauntered away, Conrad's gaze remained fixed on him until he disappeared from view. Once the door closed, he turned to you and his expression softened.

"You okay?" Conrad asked, his voice gentler now. His hands relaxed by his sides, letting go of the tight fists he’d been holding.

You nodded, a mix of relief washing over you. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry, he’s been like that these past few years no matter how often I tell him no."

Conrad's lips quirked into a half-smile, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You ready to check out?”

With a soft smile and a nod, you moved back into the changing room to switch back to your normal clothes with nothing but gratitude for Conrad Fisher.

-- 

Two more days passed before you were forced to confront the problem that had been taking up most of your mind. Conrad, Steven, and Jere were out surfing again, and as much as you wanted to join them, you didn’t want to risk hurting your ankle further. That meant you were left behind with one Isabel Conklin, who still had yet to have a full conversation with you no matter how hard you tried.

Today, though, you were cracking out the big guns. You knew there was one thing that Belly could never turn down and you weren’t even ashamed to use it as bait. After the disaster of last summer’s Fourth of July, you managed to perfect the pomegranate margarita recipe. Although you knew Belly hated how that day turned out, you knew she still loved her pomegranate margs.

The girl in question was outside in the pool, taking a swim as she normally did. The summer sun beat down on the beach house, casting shadows over the pool where Belly swam with graceful strokes. 

You stood by the edge of the pool, nervously swirling the deep red contents of the frozen margarita in your glass. With a deep breath, you approached the water's edge just as Belly surfaced, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of you.

"Hey," you began, your voice soft. Belly's gaze flicked over you before she turned to resume her lap, pointedly ignoring your presence. You sighed inwardly but didn't give up and took a seat so your feet could slide into the water. "I made pomegranate margaritas. Thought you might want one."

You held out the glass, the condensation cool against your fingers. Belly paused mid-stroke, eyeing the drink with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out to take it from you, offering a short nod of acknowledgment.

"Thanks," she mumbled, taking a small sip. You gave her a small smile in return.

"You know," you began, your voice earnest, "I've tried talking to you since our argument, but you've been giving me the cold shoulder."

Belly's shoulders tensed but she kept her eyes focused on the water. The two of you usually had no issues calling each other out when things got rocky, but it was never in an aggressive argument.

"I really want you to know that I never intended to hurt your feelings," you continued. "I know how much Conrad means to you, and I shouldn't have let our disagreement get so out of hand."

She took another sip of her drink. Progress.

"And I get it," you said, gently. "I know how complicated things are between you and Conrad. But I promise you, my feelings for him don't change how much I care about my friendship with you. I said a lot of awful things the other night and I just… want to you know that I didn’t mean them. You’re one of my best friends, Bells."

Belly's fingers gripped the edge of the pool, her knuckles turning white. After a long silence, she finally looked up at you, her eyes searching yours for some sort of answer.

"I'm sorry too," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "I shouldn't have shut you out like that. It's just... It's hard for me to see someone else getting close to him when I’ve tried so hard for that to be me."

You nodded, completely understanding how she was feeling. "I can't imagine what you've been through, Belly. And I don't want to make things harder for you."

Belly let out a sigh, pushing herself up to sit on the edge of the pool near you. Her fingers toyed with the rim of the glass, her gaze distant.

"I really miss you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at the glass in her lap. “And I’m really sorry about the other night. We were both cruel in what we said, how we were ganging up on you.”

“I kinda deserved it,” You admitted despite the way your heart ached at the vulnerability in her words. "I miss you too, Belly. I hate that we've been distant like this."

Belly finally turned to fully face you so you could see the tears in her eyes. "Can we... can we try to go back to how things were? I don't want to lose our friendship, over a boy of all things."

You offered her a grateful smile, relief washing over you. "I’d love nothing more. Trust me."

"I know it won't be easy," Belly said, her gaze locked onto yours. "But we've been through so much together. I don't want to throw that away. My mom would be so mad at us, all the moms would."

You laughed and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. And I promise, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Belly smiled, a genuine warmth returning to her eyes. "Thank you."

With a soft smile, you leaned in to give Belly a tight hug. Relief washed over you at the feeling of having one friend back in the right place. As you pulled away, her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Hey, remember that time we pushed Jeremiah into the pool?" she said, her voice full of playful nostalgia.

You nodded. "Oh, God. Which time? There’s too many to count."

Belly's grin grew wider, and before you could react, she playfully pushed you into the pool. Laughter bubbled up from your throats, the tension of the past few days dissipating completely. Thankfully, you’d changed into your swimsuit before coming out, so it really wasn’t too big of a deal.

"I’m so gonna get you back, Conklin," you teased, splashing a bit of water in her direction.

Belly laughed, her eyes dancing. "I think I can handle it."

The rest of the day unfolded in a haze of catching up, laughter, and pomegranate margaritas. The warm sun dipped below the horizon, and just as the light started to fade, the familiar figures of Steven, Jeremiah, and Conrad returned to the beach house. Walking alongside them were the Pogues—John B, JJ, Kiara, and Pope.

You and Belly had yet to notice your new audience and continued laughing your asses off at whatever horrible joke had been made.

Your friends’ expressions shifted from surprise to amusement as they took in the sight of you and Belly sitting in the pool, clearly having indulged in a few too many drinks. Your laughter was much louder than it had ever been and you’d clearly been at it for a while.

"Well, well, what have we here?" Steven said with a chuckle, exchanging knowing looks with the Fisher brothers. The two of you looked over at his sudden voice.

Belly rolled her eyes at her brother, the alcohol doing its job of making her carefree about his opinion. "Don’t be such a buzzkill, Steven!"

While Belly entertained her brother, JJ walked over to you, a crooked grin on his face as he stepped toward you. "Looks like we missed out on some quality pool time."

"JJ, hi!" Your face practically lit up as you realized he was there. “How are you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes twinkling as he stood above you. “Can’t complain.” He sat down on the concrete nearby. “How’s the ankle?”

You pulled your foot out of the water for emphasis and almost fell backward into the water. “Almost there. Feels fine right now, sometimes it’s iffy but we’re getting there.”

Ever since the other night on the beach, you had been talking to JJ nonstop. Even if it was a quick meet-up on the beach or a phone call, the two of you were growing much closer. It wasn’t just casual conversation either, you had learned his worst fears, some of his best moments, and what he dreamed of. The conversations that mattered. 

Seeing him in person again was refreshing, like a reminder that all those secrets shared between you guys were still just that. Secrets.

Belly's voice rose above the rest. "Oh, my god! Can we please get some pizza?!" A chorus of agreement greeted her suggestion, and she practically screamed in excitement. She quickly pulled herself out of the pool, barely stopping to grab a towel before darting into the kitchen to order said food. Drunk Belly always meant Hungry Belly.

“I’ll go help,” Kiara said with a laugh and headed into the house, leaving the rest of you to continue your conversation. Steven offered to grab drinks for everyone, which JJ offered to help with. Jeremiah, who had been lounging by the poolside, slipped into the water and swam over to where you were standing.

"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted with his usual bright smile. He could easily tell the margaritas were getting to you as you looked at him with surprise.

"Jere!” You jumped forward to hug him in the warm water, practically curling into his embrace. Jeremiah’s typical flirty nature was normal to all of you at this point. Growing up together, he had been an unwavering pillar of strength for you. He never made you feel wrong, always accepting your concerns and offering love in return. Jeremiah was always a safe zone for you, so your sudden clingy nature wasn’t too surprising.

He laughed and held you close as he began to wade through the water with his arms wrapped around you. "So, have you talked to Bells? You guys seemed better when we got here."

You nodded, your fingers brushing through his curly hair as you leaned against his bare shoulder. "Yeah, we had a conversation earlier. Cleared the air."

"Good. I’m glad you guys were able to sort things out, it’s been weird without you two." 

You glanced over Jere’s shoulder and noticed that Pope had joined the group with drinks, though he seemed to be nursing some fresh bruises on his face since you’d seen him a few days ago. "Pope, what happened to your face?"

Pope grimaced slightly, his fingers brushing over the bruises. "Rafe, Topper, and Kelce decided to jump me on the golf course."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you exchanged a quick glance with Conrad, the unspoken understanding passing between you. You had encountered Rafe earlier, and now this incident with Pope made it clear that Rafe was becoming more of a problem.

The topic seemed to grab Conrad's attention as well. "You guys ran into Rafe?"

JJ nodded, his expression grim. He could see the vibes shift and your glances to Conrad weren’t so subtle. "Yeah, did you?"

You sighed and separated from Jeremiah to swim closer to everyone else. "While we were shopping the other day. I don't understand why he's everywhere. It's like he enjoys making people uncomfortable."

Kiara sat down on the pool’s edge as she returned from ordering pizza. "Rafe's always been like that. He thinks he can get away with anything. Just like his dad."

John B laughed in agreement from where he was laying back in a lounge chair. “Don’t be surprised. That’s pretty typical for Kooks. Not-Not you guys of course,” He was quick to defend his statement which made everyone laugh. 

Pizza arrived shortly after to which everyone devoured hungrily amidst the small conversation that occurred between bites. It seemed the Pogues had been busy themselves, with John B and Sarah going off for a day at Chapel Hill together (you’d have to get all the details from her) before they forced Kiara and Sarah to hash out their previous differences with each other on an involuntary overnight boat sleepover. 

It was easy to tell how different your lives were. Despite the margaritas still definitely flowing through your system, you weren’t oblivious to the fact that the group mixed within you had a completely different take on life. While you were here for vacation, this was their home, and based on what you knew, their home wasn’t this side of the island. 

“Do you…” Your question trailed off as you turned to John B who was sitting on your other side. “Do you guys want to stay here, tonight? Maybe freshen up and...we have a ton of snacks if you want.” 

You didn’t want to come off like an asshole with your question, but you just wanted to offer it. Kiara obviously was down the street, but you knew better than to assume the same applied to JJ, John B, and even Pope. 

John B smiled at you. “Thank you but uh, we should be okay. We um, could definitely use some snacks though. If you have any to spare.”

You nodded, taking the chance to help where you could. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll get some together before you guys leave.”

The rest of the night flowed easily between your groups. You remained tucked in between JJ and John B, enjoying the chance to learn more about them. John B’s dad had been missing for a while, and he was convinced the man wasn’t dead. As for what was going on with him and Sarah, he flushed but didn’t reveal anything good. 

Pope was shooting for a huge scholarship for college, which you mostly knew, and Kiara just wanted to spend her time with them since her parents were breathing down her neck more often than not anyway.

JJ remained mostly quiet, his fingers dancing across your bare skin as you sat next to him. You knew he wasn’t big on sharing the darker details of his life. You’d managed to pry that out of him when he showed up with a busted lip one night, recounting the story of his abusive father who you swore you’d kill on sight if you ever saw him.

You shared pieces of your background, about life at home and finishing high school. Steven talked about being valedictorian at his recent graduation and journey to Princeton, which Pope was so eager to hear about. Belly and Jeremiah shared their own fears about what decisions to make. Conrad tried to offer reassurance that it wasn’t all that bad.

In a weird way, it was a beautiful experience to hear the other side of the story. To hear how similar you all were despite the differences in your upbringing. You hoped something good would continue to come out of this.

Little did you know how quickly that hope would change.

--

There was a comfortable breeze swirling around the deck of the country club, where you sat with Jeremiah and Steven during their lunch break. The clinking of cutlery and distant chatter of other dining guests created a serene ambiance as you enjoyed a moment of relaxation together.

"So, how's your day been so far? Anything exciting?" Jeremiah asked, taking a sip of his drink. He was lacking a shirt to the pleasure of the lingering females surrounding the area. That was one thing Jere loved about lifeguarding, no shirt required.

You leaned back in your chair, offering a casual smile as you stabbed a piece of lettuce with your fork. "Not bad, just catching up on some reading and soaking in the sun."

Steven nodded in agreement, his expression content. "Yeah, it's nice to take a break from the usual chaos at work. The tips are great don’t get me wrong, but it’s been so busy."

Just as you were about to continue the conversation, your phone vibrated on the table. You glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Sarah. Your brows furrowed in concern as you answered the call.

"Hey, Sarah. What's up?" you asked.

Sarah's voice sounded slightly panicked on the other end. "Hey, have you seen JJ? Something happened yesterday, and we haven’t seen him since."

It had been a few days since the Pogues had come over to share your drunken evening together. You’d talked to JJ each night but hadn’t seen him since then either.

Your heart skipped a beat and you placed your fork down on your plate. "No, I haven't seen him. When did this happen?"

Sarah's tone was worried. "I… I don’t wanna share his story, but we haven’t seen him and he’s not answering anyone’s calls or texts."

You exchanged a glance with Jeremiah and Steven, who had picked up on the seriousness of the conversation. JJ had answered you last night but you could tell he wasn’t his usual self.

"I’m at the Island Club right now. I’ll start looking, let me know if you hear anything," you reassured her. After ending the call, you stood up from the table. "Sorry, apparently JJ’s gone MIA and they can’t get ahold of him. I'll catch up with you later."

Jeremiah nodded understandingly. "Of course, let us know if you need any help."

With a grateful smile, you headed to your car and began driving around the area, keeping an eye out for any sign of JJ. You tried not to let your anxiety get the best of your thoughts. What if something happened with his dad?

Eventually, your search led you to a nearby park, where you spotted your familiar blond, lost in his thoughts. You quickly parked and shut the car off before walking over to him, shooting Sarah a quick text that you had him. "Hey, are you okay?"

JJ looked up at the sudden noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

You took a seat beside him. "Sarah was worried about you. She said they haven’t heard from you."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he tugged the bill of his hat further down his head. "Yeah, I just needed some space."

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I think they were just worried and you weren’t answering."

“Phone’s dead. I haven’t been anywhere with electricity to charge it.” After a moment of silence, JJ's voice grew softer. "You know, I helped Pope sink Topper's boat."

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Wait, seriously?"

JJ nodded, his gaze fixed on his hands. "Yeah, it was stupid, but... I don't know. I thought it would be payback for what they did to Pope the other day. Then the cops showed up, and I got arrested."

Your concern deepened as you looked at him in shock. "JJ, what? Did they let you go?"

JJ shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips. "Yeah, gotta pay the damage up, but then I had to go home with my dad."

Your heart sank at the mention of his dad, knowing the troubles that often came with their relationship. The swelling on his face was evident and you could tell he wasn’t moving much on purpose, which gave you enough of an answer. "How did that go?"

JJ looked away, his gaze distant. "Not great. He was drunk, and angry, and… yeah. I’m sure you can guess the rest."

A mixture of anger and sadness welled up within you. "I'm so sorry, JJ. You don't deserve any of this."

JJ's eyes welled up with emotion, and he blinked away tears. "Thanks. It's just...some times it feels like there's no way out. I-I was trying to do the right thing, give him the money to pay for everything and he… he just-"

“Where did you get the money for a boat as expensive as Topper’s?” You interrupted, curiosity getting the best of you. You weren’t stupid, the Thorntons had enough money to put the island to shame, so there was no doubt his boat was new.

JJ winced at the question. “Uh, ask me another time.”

Accepting that he didn’t want to talk about it, you nodded. "Do your friends know… about your dad?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever outright told them, but I know they’re not stupid, so they probably have some idea.”

You embraced the silence that followed. Surely JJ's friends had some idea of what happened at home. It would be hard for them not to. After a moment, you stood up. "Hey, how about we go grab some slushies? It might cool off in this heat."

JJ's smile grew a bit wider, and he stood up slowly. "Yeah, I could use something right now."

You both climbed into the car, letting the music fill the silence as you drove to a nearby convenience store. You told JJ to get whatever he wanted, insisting you didn’t mind and that he deserved to have something good after the craziness of the past few days.

As you and JJ sat outside the convenience store, sipping on your slushies, the tension that had gripped him seemed to ease with each passing moment. The sun cast a warm glow over the surroundings, but the wind was kicking up with an oncoming storm. 

“Here.” JJ set his slushy down and shrugged off his worn zip-up to place it around your shoulders. He didn’t bother to ask if you were cold and helped get your arms in the sleeves before zipping it up for you.

The Kildare Co. Surfing Company logo on the chest was enough to warm your heart as you leaned into his side. As much as you wished you could stay longer, you knew they’d be looking for you at home. "We should probably get going soon."

JJ nodded in agreement, and you both got up to walk back to your Jeep. Once inside the vehicle, you glanced at JJ, noticing a hint of curiosity in his gaze. There was something he wanted to ask, and you waited patiently for him to find the words.

He hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Hey, can I ask you about something?"

"What’s up?”

His gaze drifted to the silver necklace that adorned your neck—a delicate pendant featuring both a sun and a moon. "You wear that necklace every day. Where did you get it?"

A flicker of hesitation passed over you as memories resurfaced. How JJ picked up on the fact that you wore the piece of jewelry every day, you didn’t know. You took a deep breath before replying, "Uh, Conrad gave it to me."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place in his eyes. "Conrad? Really?"

You nodded, your fingers unconsciously brushing over the pendant. "Yeah, he gave it to me a few years ago."

The air seemed to grow heavy with unspoken emotions as JJ's gaze remained fixed on the necklace. After a moment, you decided to break the silence by sharing the story behind it in hopes that it would clear the tension. 

"It was during one of our summers up north. We were out one night, just talking and looking at the stars. I mentioned how much I loved the sunsets and the moonrise, and how they always made me feel a sense of calm and balance. A few days later, Conrad surprised me with this necklace. He said it reminded him of me, of how I brought light into life even during the darkest times,” You quote the words with a slight laugh, remembering the memory like it happened yesterday.

JJ's expression softened as he listened to your words, though there was an underlying tension that you couldn't entirely ignore. "That's cute," he finally replied, his tone carefully neutral.

You sensed there was more to his reaction than met the eye, but you chose not to press further. Instead, you drove in contemplative silence, the soft hum of the engine providing a backdrop to your thoughts. John B had told you how quick JJ was to shut down when he was upset. God, you were so stupid to share something like that with him, especially when he’s in this mindset. 

“Sorry, um-”

“No, no. It’s okay. Uh, actually. Do you mind if I um… if I stay at your place? I really don’t want to see the Pogues right now.”

You agreed despite the worry that it would make things awkward back at your own house. JJ deserved to have a night where he didn’t worry about where he was going to sleep. To your relief, it seemed Conrad and Jeremiah weren’t both out for a night surf, which left you with Steven and Belly. 

“Hey guys,” You greeted as you walked in with JJ behind you. “JJ’s here for the night. Do you guys wanna make dinner or order out?”

After Steven declared (and cooked) breakfast for dinner, the two Conklin siblings moved upstairs to leave you and JJ to yourselves. 

The two of you found yourselves sitting on the comfortable couch, nestled close together with some movie playing in the background. The atmosphere held a sense of ease, a comfortable quiet filling the space around you.

JJ's voice broke the silence, soft and thoughtful. "You know, I've never really seen anyone share moments like the way you all do. Don’t get me wrong, the Pogues and I love to fuck around, but it’s…it’s different with you guys."

You turned to him, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "Years ago, Jeremiah and Conrad’s mom once told me that home isn’t always a place, it’s the people and experiences that make the difference. It’s so cheesy, but these people are my home. And trust me, our group has had plenty of fucking around over the years.”

He met your gaze, his eyes flickering with a warmth that seemed to transcend the dim lighting. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

You forced yourself to stare at the TV screen, wishing you had something better to say that didn’t seem so awkward. You hoped JJ wasn’t too upset about everything that had happened in the past few hours. You’d learned over time that it took him a while to get out of his slumps, not that you could blame him.

His fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that sent a shiver down your spine. "Your necklace…"

You nodded, your heart beating a little faster in your chest. This was it, he was mad over this necklace that you’ve cherished for so long, the first gift someone outside of your family, someone you loved had given you.

"I know it shouldn’t matter," he continued, his voice slightly strained, “but why do you still wear it?”

You felt a rush of emotions swirling within you, your thoughts racing to catch up with the confession in his eyes. "JJ..."

“Kiara pointed it out the other day because she liked it, then Sarah said you’d had it for years.” He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I've been trying to figure out why it bothered me so much. That you still wear his gift, even though things between us... are different, maybe going somewhere."

Your heart skipped a beat as his words hung in the air. There was a raw honesty in his admission, a vulnerability that mirrored your own feelings. As you looked at him, you saw the depth of his emotions, the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface.

"You're right," you said softly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "Things have changed between us. But that necklace... it's not just about Conrad. It's about the memories we've shared, the moments that have shaped our friendships. I’ll always cherish and love that."

JJ's gaze held a mixture of hope and uncertainty, his fingers still brushing against yours. "And what about us?"

A gentle smile curved your lips as you leaned in a little closer, closing the distance between you. "JJ, there's something between us that's undeniable. I know you can feel it."

His breath seemed to catch as your words hung in the air, the unspoken tension growing stronger with each passing heartbeat.

"Maybe we've been avoiding it, afraid of how it might change things," you continued, your voice soft and sincere. "But the truth is, I care about you. More than I've ever let myself admit."

His gaze never wavered from yours, a mix of surprise and longing in his eyes. "You mean that?"

You nodded, your heart racing as you laid your feelings bare. "Yeah, I do."

With a gentle, almost instinctive motion, his lips brushed against yours. It was a soft, tentative kiss, filled with the unspoken promises of what could be. As the kiss deepened, you felt the weight of your feelings and desires intertwining, a connection that was both thrilling and comforting.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling. The quiet of the room seemed to amplify the emotions that swirled between you.

"I'm glad we're being honest with each other," JJ murmured, his voice a soft, husky whisper. 

"Me too," you replied, your fingers still entwined with his.

The night stretched on, and the connection you shared seemed to strengthen with every whispered conversation, every stolen glance. Kisses turned deeper, and physical space between you disappeared as you fully let yourself fall into JJ Maybank because, for the first time in a while, you felt free. And it felt so so good.

--

JJ was gone when you woke up the next morning. At some point, the two of you had moved up to your bedroom to go to sleep. You didn’t want to seem desperate to make him stay, but you didn’t expect him to leave before you even woke up. 

JJ would have to wait though because today was Midsummers. You had been doing a pretty shitty job of spending time with Sarah so you invited her over to get ready with the rest of your friends. 

“Oh, my God, hi!” She practically fell through the front door with all of her belongings, barely sparing the time to lock her car before shutting the door. “I have so much to tell you.”

“Thank God,” You laughed and locked the door before following her into the kitchen. Jeremiah and Steven had already started their personal pregame on the patio, neither of them in their dress clothes yet, unbothered by the idea of getting ready. 

Sarah didn’t hesitate to reach into the fridge and grab a vodka seltzer to gulp down. She let out a sigh of relief when she finished. “I’ve been dreaming of one of these, I think.”

You laughed at her enthusiasm. “Go for it. We bought plenty on our last alc run. What the hell has been going on?”

“You have no idea,” Sarah groaned and let her head rest on the coolness of the counter. In all the years you’d known her, she was glowing despite how overwhelmed she seemed. You knew it had something to do with the Pogues, obviously. Especially since JJ had told you things were heating up between Sarah and John B.

You let her finish the rest of her drink and grab another before heading upstairs where Belly was busy getting ready. The sound of music flowed from the large master bathroom as you two walked into Belly’s personal concert.

“Sarah, hi!” Your friend jumped up excitedly to hug the new guest. Sarah returned the embrace and handed Belly one of the drinks she brought up to sip on while getting ready.

“So,” You held the letter out as you popped your own drink and got started on fixing your hair. “Are you gonna tell us what’s going on with you and John B or should we just guess for ourselves?”

The Cameron girl gave you a side-eye and pulled her makeup bag out. “Who said it had to do with John B?”

You scoffed, “I mean if you don’t wanna share, I can just call him and ask for additional details…”

“Additional?” She made a dramatic gasp but didn’t seem too mad, “I can’t believe he spilled! It took him weeks to cough it up to his friends.”

“I mean, it was pretty much written all over his face,” Belly added as she swiped some blush across her cheeks. Her hair was curled and pulled half up, away from her face. She already had her dress on, a soft pale pink dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves. You knew Jeremiah’s eyes would practically fall out of his head when he saw her. She looked elegant, as always.

You envied her natural beauty. Belly had always been gorgeous but she truly grew into her skin over these past few years. Long gone were the pink glasses and braces that you knew and left in their place was bright, happy Isabel. 

Sarah filled the rest of the time telling you about her adventures with John B. Their trip to Chapel Hill for some documents that he was secretive about, the kiss in the rain, and how it all led up to their night at the bell tower.

“You had sex in the bell tower!”

Sarah’s cheeks went pink at the volume of your exclamation. “Shh! Yes, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, my god! Wait, I need to know every detail!”

“Every?” Belly repeated your words with a wince. “I don’t-”

Sarah flipped you off and finished straightening her hair. “It was amazing, okay. That’s all I’m telling you.”

You let out a groan but accepted her answer nonetheless. “Thank God you got rid of Topper. He didn’t really bother me, but dude was a dick to you sometimes.”

The three of you finished getting ready and moved downstairs to join the boys for their pregame. 

“Oh, shit. Let me grab my shoes,” You left them at the top of the stairs to dart into your room for the shoes that you’d bought to match your outfit. Closet doors were thrown open before you located the pair of shoes in mind and sat down on your bed to put them on. 

Quickly getting to your feet, you moved toward the door before realizing someone had been standing there. You blinked in surprise and took a step back. "Conrad!"

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized softly, not that he needed to. "You look amazing."

Your cheeks warmed, and you smiled in return, feeling your nerves dissipate. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment. But then, you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's gaze flickered briefly to your neck, and you realized that you weren't wearing the necklace he had given you.

A wave of self-consciousness washed over you as you reached up to touch the empty space where the pendant should have been. You weren’t sure what led you to take it off for this occasion in particular. Maybe it was the conversation you’d had with JJ…maybe it was time to move on, even if it hurt. You would hate yourself if you hurt Conrad in the process though.

Conrad seemed to notice your hesitation. He tried his best to keep the disappointment off his face, "Is everything okay?"

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and sadness. "I, um, left the necklace behind. It's just... I didn't want it to get lost or damaged at the party."

 “Yeah, totally fine.” He gave a simple nod, though his expression looked slightly pained. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You ready?"

With one final appreciative look, Conrad turned, leading the way out of your room. As you followed him down the stairs towards the festivities, you let out a deep breath. You watched out the window as everyone gathered outside, minus yourself. Pausing in the kitchen, you opened one of the cabinets to pull out the bottle of tequila your dad had left behind last year. 

A shot was poured and downed, followed by another one before you deemed it good enough to join everyone else with the bottle still in hand. What better way to get your mind off things than some friendly competitive cup pong?

--

navigation

lowkey don't like this too much but whatever :(

one part left! let me know what you want to see here

[demo-bats]

& ,, AN OFFER I CAN’T REFUSE

eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: ‘sharing a bed for the first time’ trope, hurt/comfort, pure fluff, swearing, mentions of voyuerism, mentions of vomiting, one mention of sex/sexual thoughts, this is purely sfw though!

after a night of fighting monsters and holding back tears, eddie offers a new acquaintance his bed for the night. 2k +

DROPLETS of rain cascade down the foggy windows of the trailer, slick with grease and dirt from years of neglect. Eddie had never noticed the deterioration of his home’s exterior until now, grimacing at the way the water mixes with specs of mud and leaves murky streaks upon the glass.

But then again, he’s never wanted to impress anyone before. The trailer had simply been four walls and a roof, with a bed to sleep in and a shower to use whenever he could remember to wash his hair. It was a pitstop for local drunks or rebelious teens who needed their fix; They never cared for it’s upkeep, and frankly, neither did Eddie nor his uncle.

That was until you sat against his window ledge.

A storm continues to brew above Hawkins, both physically and metaphorically. You hadn’t expected your start to ‘Adult Life’ to be easy, already struggling to find a job in the two years since you had graduated high school. But then Family Video came along, and so did Robin and Steve.

And with their friendship came even more friendships, with people that you never thought you’d be trying to save the world with. Like Eleven, and Dustin Henderson, and Mike Wheeler, and Eddie Munson.

“Uh… Do y’want some water?” His voice is soft, almost timid, as though he’d been afraid of asking such a simple question. In all honesty, he had. The night had been filled with being pulled underwater and fighting monsters in an alternate universe, a sight that had been far too much for you to handle. The nausea of seeing Steve bleed out and creatures roaming in the sky had been pushed to the back of your head, adrenaline kicking in to fight for survival. But then reality had come flooding back once you’d climbed up and flipped yourself onto Eddie’s mattress, and you’d thrown up less-than-delicately from the steps that lead up to his trailer.

Eddie shuffles on his feet after not receiving a response, riddled with nerves. His ring-clad fingers are stuffed into the damp front pockets of his jeans, frizzy hair still matted to his forehead from the spontaneous swimming. He cracks under the tension, his usual awkwardness seeping through the silence. “I was gon’ offer you something stronger buuut…”

“Water’s fine,” You manage, throat burning as you produce the words. Too much lakewater, you conclude, trying to ignore the bitter taste that mixes with your saliva. Your head turns slightly, catching eyes with him for the first time since you’d heaved on his front lawn. “…Thank you.”

Eddie knows he’s an egotistical man, but he can’t recall a moment where he’s felt prouder than this. He salutes, limbs waving about as he spins on his heels and exits quickly, the faint sound of his fingers drumming along the walls growing quieter as he moves towards the kitchen.

You hear the faucet run, glad to be met with something other than the deafening silence you’d both been sitting in for the last hour.

The offer for you to spend the night had just been out of politeness, not really much thought put into it other than wanting to keep the few friends he’d made tonight, adding to his very short list.

But when you had jumped at the chance, a little too eagerly, Eddie had found himself holding his breath since the minute the last person walked out of his trailer.

He inspects the glass once, twice, ensuring there’s no stains or marks. Once satisfied, he repeats his journey until he’s stood in front of you once more.

He all but shoves the glass towards you, water spilling over the edges and trickling down his fingers. “S-Sorry—“

You smile.

He stops breathing.

You pry the glass from his fingers, taking small sips of the cool liquid. It eases the burn, if only by a little, now feeling a lot more comfortable in the plaid pyjama pants and black tee he’d kindly lent to you.

Your body no longer feels as though it’s on fire, able to relax in your own skin. Relaxation brings peace, and you take a moment to dive back into reality. The rain disappears from your line of vision for the first time since you’d sat here, now observing the bedroom you were in.

Eddie is shuffling by the bed, patting at his duvet and pillows until he’s certain they’re plump enough. He’s rolled the blankets back, a silent way of telling you that the bed is welcome for you at any time.

He busies himself next by digging through his dresser, skimming over various clothing items until he finds a set of pyjamas for himself.

He briefly lifts his head to find a private place to change, only to catch eyes with you.

An anxiety ripples through his body, his usual defence mechanism kicking in almost immediately.

“You know, most people stand outside the window when they want to stare at someone getting changed.”

A scoff leaves your lips, slight amusement dancing across your face as you stand from your position slowly. Your knees crack under the new movement, dulling the ache that had started to form. “I’m pretty sure I saw you catching a glimpse when I was in the shower.”

He raises a finger in protest, although the words die on his tongue. “That… was by accident.”

“Sure,” You let out slowly, dragging the word as you wander over to the bed. You glance down at the duvet, keeping your gaze on the cotton sheets as you think over what to say next. You don’t want the conversation to die, especially now that you’ve found the confidence to hold it. “…You okay with this?”

Eddie watches you gesture down to the bed, eyes widening before softening again. It’s not like anything dirty was going to happen, he knew that. But still, the thought of having anyone in his bed other than himself was a new adventure, one that he wasn’t sure how to express his emotions on.

So of course, he results to comedy.

“As long as you don’t mind the jet-engine snoring I let out.” He watches your skin crease beneath your eyes, the corners of your lips upturned in the most failed attempt of hiding a smile. He grins in return, a wide and beautiful act that has your heart skip a beat.

He was good at distracting you. Whether it was his voice, or his good looks that grabbed a hold on you first; Eddie Munson was your saviour tonight, and you’d wondered why you’d never found the time to properly get to know him before.

“I don’t remember it being that bad,” You give him another small smile, hands reaching down to peel the blankets back. He watches your every move, eyes never shifting. The clothes in his hands slip an inch within his weakening grip. You finally sit on the mattress, sweeping your feet under the duvet still held in your hands. “Back in my senior year, you fell asleep in the cafeteria that one time. It was loud, definitely, but it wasn’t annoying.”

It takes a moment for your words to kick in, his body stuck frozen in front of you. You use that time to sink further into his bed, now lying horizontally as your eyes stare up at him. He’s always been the centre of attention at school, even if not for the best of reasons— But he hadn’t expected you to have remembered something small like that.

Sure, you’d been in his original senior year, but Eddie had had a lot of defining moments. Getting caught smoking, drug deals with a teacher, a few hook-up rumours that made him the butt of a never-ending joke. But that particular one was tame, a memory that you’d only hold onto if you were really paying attention to him.

In those few seconds of revelation that maybe he hadn’t been viewed as a freak by everyone in Hawkins, he looks at you differently.

He no longer sees a weak person in desperate need of mummy and daddy, or a tissue box and a trip to the counsellor’s office to unload those childhood traumas. Instead he saw you, just you. A person who had risked their life tonight to assist him and his new friends in trying to save the world.

Behind all those layers, maybe, you were just like him.

“I need to change.” Is the only thing he’s able to blurt out, cringing internally at how he’d left your previous statement hanging.

You simply nod, seemingly unbothered by his lack of response to your trip down memory lane. “I can close my eyes.”

A part of him nearly scolds you for the idea, knowing full well that anybody would want to take a peek at him, just to ridicule his body and spread rumours of how his skin was somehow red like the devil’s. Or that’d contracted some sort of disease.

But then he remembers the moment of revelation he’d just had about you. He thinks back on how he’s trying not to judge you.

He looks at your face, closed eyelids on display, and undoes his belt buckle.

You hear the clank of metal hit the floor, ears twitching out of sensitivity. You’re curious, of course, but keep to your promise of no peeking. There’s a few shuffles, floorboards creaking as he shifts from foot to foot, the scratch of fabric rubbing against his damp skin.

And then the bed dips beside you, warmth radiating your side.

You keep your eyes closed, trying to ignore the way your breaths both hitch from finally crossing the line you’d both been working up to over the duration of the evening.

Eddie stammers, body laid out taunt and straight, suddenly overly aware of how much space he might be taking up. “I can take the couch. Trust me, I’ve spent one too many nights curled up on that thing after getting high and it’s really not that bad—“

“I-I don’t wanna be alone.” You finally admit the words you both knew deep down were true, spoken aloud and sealing the deal of fate between you both.

The subtle movement of his feet shifting back off the bed halts, before settling back into their previous spot.

Eddie slowly rolls onto his right side, now facing you and your closed eyes again. Your breathing is even, despite a few shakes every now and then. “Promise me you’ll stay?”

“Fuck…” He lets out under his breath, so quiet he’s sure you’ve probably not even heard him. His head nuzzles into the pillow until he’s comfortable, curly locks of hair tickling at his cheeks as his hand presses into the small space between your respective pillows. “Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “I promise.”

You sigh contentedly, shifting slightly until you too find a comfortable position. Eddie closes his eyes, trying to ignore the nightmares that already threaten to carve themselves into the backs of his eyelids, ready to play a never-ending repeat of the night you’ve both just endured.

As if by instinct, your finger brushes against his own, both of your hands trapped within the tiny gap. Another hitch of breaths fills the room, adventuring your hand further until it envelopes his. His rings are warm, conducting his body heat, which brings you an odd sense of comfort.

He feels you trace the intricate designs of the jewellrey, unable to open his eyes, much like you. He doesn’t complain, nor push you away. Instead he turns his palm upwards, ignoring the stutter in his heart when you press your own palm down firmly against his. Your fingers interlace, and he listens carefully until your soft breaths turn to even gentler snores.

Eddie Munson opens his eyes, watching you sleep throughout the night until the sun peeks through his curtains and they strain from a lack of rest.

He never often found himself scared. But that night, he swore to protect you.

Even if it meant a little more sacrifice of himself.

[justnat15]

BfG!Shifter!Ghost and the pack baby

Hey, hello! This is just a little snippet of feels inspired by my lovely wifey @writeforfandoms series, Born for Greatness. I highly recommend reading it first so things make more sense. We've had many a talk about the characters and how life went on for them outside the story and she gave me permission to play in her sandbox and write this! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, small moment of angst thanks to our Ghostie boy. Baby (does that need to be a warning?)

Word count: 1.2k

You stood in the doorway to the pack room, blinking back tears that threatened to fall due to the adorable sight in front of you. Most of the pack was out on a training exercise, except Simon. He’d gotten a serious injury on their last mission and was still healing. He hadn’t complained much about it, though. Usually, he was prowling around base, chomping at the bit for Medical to clear him for active duty. 

In fact, since little Audrey had been born, Simon spent even more time in or near the pack room, which you didn’t think was possible. You were sure Soap and Gaz hadn’t noticed yet, due to the lack of heckling towards their quieter pack member. 

You continued to observe the scene in front of you. Ghost was laid out on the LoveSac, sans mask for once, and had Audrey curled up on his chest. It was quickly becoming a common thing, particularly when the other guys were out and it was just you and Audrey around. 

You purposefully made a little noise as you walked into the room, even though Simon most likely already knew you were there, and knelt next to the pair. Audrey’s eyes were closed as she snoozed. Carefully, so as to not disturb her slumber, you ran a hand over her little brown curls. 

Some days, you still couldn’t believe that you and John had made this precious little baby and you had carried her in your body for months. 

A soft rumble from Ghost turned your attention to him and you smiled at him. “How long has she been sleeping?” You kept your voice quiet, not worried about your packmate being able to hear you.

“Just a few minutes,” Simon muttered softly. He cupped his hands around Audrey, the large appendages dwarfing her tiny sleeping form. 

The shifter really was a gentle giant when it came to the pack baby. All of the boys were, but Simon took it to a different level. He was always the first to step in when you started to look a little frazzled and Audrey was feeding off your stressed emotions. He’d swoop in and oh so gently pluck your daughter from your embrace while telling you to go have a snack or go ‘rescue’ your mate from his never ending pile of paperwork. You’d do as told while he rocked and hummed to his niece, calming her almost instantly.

When you had mentioned this to Logan over a video chat one night, he had just smirked and shook his head. 

“Riley better not think he can replace me in my grandcub’s heart. I’m going to be her favorite, after you and Price, of course.” He added the last part when you glared at him.

You placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder and nodded towards your daughter. “Want me to take her and lay her in her crib?” You knew what the answer would be, but you still felt obligated to ask.

Ghost’s answering glare would have sent a lesser being running with their tail, metaphorical or literal, tucked between their legs. You just grinned and patted his shoulder before turning away. “Find me when she’s hungry,” you called over your shoulder as you returned to the small kitchen where you had set up shop for the day. 

You heard Simon grunt in reply and you chuckled softly as you got back to work.

Some time later, you stood and stretched. Your bladder was never the same after carrying Audrey and screamed at you more often to take breaks. John and the rest of the pack weren’t back yet because nobody (Soap or Gaz) had interrupted your work. It seemed physically impossible for the two younger males in the pack to not come greet you right away whenever they returned from a mission or training. And then, if you were working, they would not leave you alone until you agreed to join them for a movie in the pack room. Or unless John stepped in and gave them that look that made them get in line.

As you walked through the pack room, you looked over at the LoveSac and paused. Simon had fallen asleep with Audrey on his chest. Quickly and quietly, you pulled out your phone and snapped a picture. It really was too sweet a sight to not capture. Although you would only be sharing this image with your mate and with Simon himself. You were viciously protective of Simon’s bonding moments with Audrey. There would be no teasing from the other two members of your pack. You worried sometimes that Simon would pull back from Audrey and the rest of the pack if he were teased about his softer side that you rarely got to see like this. 

A low grumble caught your attention and you turned your gaze from your phone back to the pair in front of you. Simon was staring at you through half-lidded eyes. You smiled when he lifted a hand and gestured you closer. 

Kneeling next to the couch, you held your phone so the big man could see the moment you captured. “I couldn’t resist. The two of you look so cute like this,” you murmured softly. “I’m definitely adding this one to her book.” You and John had started a photo album for Audrey after you had returned with the news of your pregnancy. John was insistent on it, actually. He had gone out and bought the biggest album he could find and spent so much time decorating and personalizing it. 

Simon huffed and shook his head. “You don’t want me in that book.”

You frowned at his self-deprecating tone. “Simon Riley, you stop that right now. You are more than worthy to be in Audrey’s book. You’re her favorite uncle and it wouldn’t be fair to her to keep you out. Johnny and Kyle both have a section in the album, right after yours.” You reached out and gently ran your fingers through his hair, politely ignoring the way his eyes were starting to water. “Now, if you’re uncomfortable with your bare face being shown in the photos, that’s one thing.”

Simon let out a choked growl and moved one hand from Audrey’s back to cover his face. You didn’t say anything, just continued combing your fingers through his hair and watching your daughter sleep on his chest. 

“Thank you,” Ghost’s voice was so low, you almost missed his words. You just smiled at him and leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“You’re a member of this pack, Simon. And we love you. Don’t ever doubt that,” you whispered. Your eyes closed as you just basked in the presence of your pack member and your daughter.

You woke up in a very different position than you last remember being in. You were now on the couch with Audrey on top of you and a shifted Simon curled around the both of you. His large head rested on your torso next to a still sleeping Audrey. You smiled and carefully scratched behind his ears. You felt his body vibrate with a purr of contentment at the action. His head felt heavier as he somehow went even more limp than he already had been. You laughed but didn’t stop scratching his head. Eventually, you were pulled back to sleep thanks to Simon’s purring and warmth.

[asherloki]

7 and 15 for Sherlock and reader. From the grumpy sunshine affectionate list pretty please 🥺

His summer girl

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 1261

Fluff

Prompt list, and many others I find endearing!

"Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.." So on I read as I held my book of Shakespeare's sonnets in front of me. Sonnet 18 is indeed my most favourite. The first time I read it when I was in school, then I read it again for college and then to my delight, there's nothing brighter than a soothing summer's day and if your lover brings such brightness to you, you're indeed lucky. As for my dearest lover, the detective, rather the cold detective as people say sat with me. He held me closer to him with an arm, and as soon as I started reading he put his phone down, shifting his full attention towards me and my reading.

"and summer.." I continued reading until his heavy, beautiful voice continued with me,

"And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.."

We read the lines together.

"you're prettier than a summer's day" interrupted Mr Sherlock Holmes, wrapping another arm around my waist as we both sat in his chair. Snuggling closer.

"someone's not paying attention to my reading, isnt my voice appealing anymore?" I replied. He, having such a voice himself has often loved poems when I read them even more.

"ofcourse. it's still beautiful, your voice will never cease to be amusing to me, at the least your reading." He answered. Our flat is calm at the moment, no client, no shouting at Mrs Hudson and all. Perfect for a poetry session. Sherlock placed his chin on my shoulder from behind, his breathing touching my skin. Just like the sunrays hitting directly at us from the window.

"you're cute, you know that Mr grumpy?" I said booping his nose lightly, when we first met he was this cold distant man, never quite came to talk to me on his own. However, he listened everytime I read or talked, to be more specific talked in metaphors.

"no, not me, you're cute" he said snuggling more. And I didn't object.

"do you remember, four years ago, when Christopher and I broke up? I was talking to my friends and family on my phone when I quoted, "The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much!" you stood outside my door and listened and when I turned to you, you were startled, yet you gave a nod and went away".

He chuckled softly, uff his voice, so close to my ear,

"I do, from Jane Austen's sense and sensibility it was, also because I wondered what love actually is as you talked of it in phone" he replied, "I've often stopped playing violin to listen to you, reading loudly, like that one time when inspector Johnson called me a fool, you were sitting in the kitchen. I felt bad for taking long to solve the case, and I muttered, "perhaps I am" you came quickly and quoted, "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool" from as you like it by Shakespeare and glanced at him. That ... that motivated me, and in two days I solved it."

I nodded, ofcourse I remember it clearly. I smiled at all the memories of us, from quote talking to trust, trust to friendship, and then here, now as lovers. He doesn't ask for much, isn't like other men who are clingy and... may I dare say like some who are lusty too. He's just him. How come I found him?

"how come I found you?" he asked out aloud, "my summer day? my Sunshine? you filled my world with light. Everyone else seemed to have liked me getting hurt emotionally but you..."

I paused realising he's opening up? he doesn't do it much, so I listened without interrupting,

"you... having you, I feel... I." he stuttered, "I love you, walking by you makes life easier and happier" he finally said, holding me tighter. How come I not love this man? I caressed the back of his hand. However after a few seconds I let go off his grip on me, baffling him slightly, just to face him. To look at him, the vulnerable Sherlock Holmes, which is pretty rare. I leaned on my hand, resting my elbow on the top back of his chair.

"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek!" he quoted shakespeare, caressing my cheek.

"oh" I said, "well hello Romeo". It made him giggle and me as well.

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." I replied.

He thought for a moment, perhaps this time I gave him a good move, "and it's from?" he asked.

"oops, was it a bouncer detective?" I teased and got to see him pout, he's adorable at home, "Emma by Austen ".

He hummed and nodded, point one goes to me. He didn't stop, rather started reciting, "And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;"

He continued Shakespeare's sonnet 18. So I, too looked at my book and began reading,

"Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:"

Sherlock held me even closer as he recited next lines looking at me,

"So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this,"

Then I continued with him, reciting my favourite line, "and this gives life to thee".

And we sat in silence, looking into eachother's eyes. The closeness and silence never bothered us. His green eyes gazing at me made me blush and I looked down, smiling softly. Remembering some time has passed perhaps, since we sat like this, so to break the silence I said, "You know what Sherlock" I got up, "I wanna read something casual" saying so I went to look for a contemporary romance novel in our bookshelf when my dearest lover rolled his eyes and said,

"you mean those smutty books, that gives you weird fantasies and you ask me to imitate that in bed?"

I giggled, because that's what I do, I read smuts, get an idea and ask him to do it, "well" I said looking at him, "you don't wanna do it?"

He smiled, shaking his head he replied, "I can't say no to you, can I?"

He too knows how much he likes to have control in bed, and I give him all of that. Was that too private to share? I turned around to choose a book when

I heard his soft footsteps, walking towards me, I turned to him and raised my brows,

"what now detective?"

He said nothing instead came closer and cupped my face, I love it, his big strong hands cupping my cheeks, he leaned to me then said,

"Make me immortal with a kiss"

And his lips met mine. Here, in this flat, the winter man kissed his summer girl. My detective, considered to the cold one met me, the sun girl they say. And the spring that blossomed in our hearts, hope it never fades away.

[pilotispunk]

I Could Fall

Frankie Morales x F! Reader

Summary: You meet the gorgeous Frankie Morales at a wedding and a Selena song seems to follow you throughout your relationship.

Rating: T

Content: Pure fluff, girl! dad Frankie, weddings, allusions to sex, Selena the queen herself

Words: ~1600

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!!! This is my submission to the @pedrostories Secret Santa for the lovely @simpingcowboy. I hope you enjoy this Frankie filled fluff and have the best holiday!!!

Masterlist

I could lose my heart tonight

If you don't turn and walk away

'Cause the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

The first time you saw him was at your cousin Sarah’s wedding. Dealing with an intense deadline at work, you almost didn’t make it. But you also didn’t want to miss her wedding for the world and you knew she’d kill you for skipping out on food and festivities you’d already paid for. You’d met her now-husband Benny a few times at family gatherings; he was a former Army man and an MMA fighter. He had energy and loyalty like a golden retriever; you knew they were good for each other. He came from a good family; he didn’t have friends—he had a brotherhood. 

That’s where he comes into play. You’d tried to leave a table, talking to your family members when you ran smack dab into him. He’d asked if you were alright, you just gawked at him for a moment. Broad in a way that didn’t feel all encompassing but comfortable, a strong nose that sat between gorgeous dark eyes, dark, shaggy curls adorned on his head. Beautiful without trying. 

Instead of thinking you were an oddball, it seemed like he was speechless too. Was he feeling the same thing you were? When you didn’t respond to his question, he blurted out “I’m Frankie. I’m here for Benny.” 

“I know, I saw you in the wedding party..” You smiled. 

“Well, I guess walking down the aisle is the easiest way to see someone.” He blushed. And then it began.

You’d talked for the rest of the night, drawn to each other in conversation as people came and went from the table grabbing food, going to the dance floor. Selena’s “I Could Fall in Love” played and suddenly you found yourself back 10 plus years ago, a metaphorical school gym walls behind the both of you as you fiddled at your nails, waiting for the cute boy to get the hint and pull you out to the dance floor. 

“This is a great song.” You quipped. 

“Yeah. My mamá loves Selena.” Frankie grunted. 

For the first time all night it was quiet between you two as the song continued to play. You’d felt that familiar feeling of self-doubt creep up — was he even interested in you? You were two strangers just passing the time at the wedding and it looks like his friends were occupied with their dates.

You hear the silence of the song end and you realize you could’ve also asked him. Just as you’re beginning to kick yourself, a faster song comes on and you decide to build the courage to ask him. 

“Would you like to dance? With me?” Frankie blurted out, breaking you out of your trance of thoughts. 

Before your mouth could say yes, you stood up and led him to the dance floor. 

—----------

“He did not!”

“I promise you, he ate shit once we landed, and he was too cocky to wear a belt so his ass was just out in the air.”

You almost choke on your mountain of fries. You can’t remember what time you’d gotten there but the fact that the servers were armed with mops and buckets around you gave you a sign. 

You can’t remember what number of dates this is–you’ve stopped counting. Your first kiss happened almost instantaneously during your first date, the two of you drawn to each other like you were at the wedding. He spent the night after your third date; you remember tidying up your apartment like the Tasmanian devil, hoping that maybe something would happen and then you spent the morning dirtying up your kitchen again cooking breakfast together and making love. 

It’s closing time at this diner but neither of you are ready to end the night; you both have work in the morning so a sleepover isn’t possible–but you’re just not ready to end the night just yet. 

As Frankie takes out his wallet to pay, you hear a familiar song on the speakers.

I can only wonder how

Touching you would make me feel

But if I take that chance right now

Tomorrow will you want me still?

The both of you exchange a knowing look. 

“I’m gonna sound like such a creep…” Frankie starts. “But I remember this was playing during the night we met. At Benny and Sarah’s wedding.” 

“I remember where we met. How could I forget?” You grin.

“Oh, you’re rhyming now? Don’t tell me you’re gonna start singing, too.” Frankie jokes. 

“The whole time that song was playing I was wondering if you were going to ask me to dance.” You say. 

“That whole time, I was wondering how to ask you to dance.” Frankie smiles. And the two of you are laughing as you finally get up to leave the restaurant at closing time. 

It’s so early into your relationship but you genuinely enjoy spending as much time with Frankie as you can–you love his friends, you adore his daughter, there’s an ease that you’ve never had with anyone you’ve ever dated and it doesn’t scare you at all. You just feel a calm that’s so sturdy because you know it’s heading somewhere special in the long term. 

But as for tonight? You wish you could be with him. 

He drives you home and you share syrupy, slow kisses in the front seat of his truck. He walks you to your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. You let out a deep sigh. He caresses your cheek and his lips hover over yours. 

“Fuck it,” He grunts. “I can go in late tomorrow.” 

—----------

And I know it's not right

And I guess I should try to do what I should do

But I could fall in love, fall in love with you

I could fall in love with you

The warm summer haze peeks through your windows. They’re bare without curtains to block them, you still need to unpack them. 

There’s still so much to unpack. The flurry of packing for and moving for one is always a blur but to combine that with someone else’s things? Not to say you weren’t ecstatic when Frankie asked you to move in together. 

What started out as sleepovers turned into copied keys and then before you knew it the two of you were just always together. The one time you weren’t there with Frankie to pick his daughter up, Gabriella’s lip wobbled and eyebrow furrowed in the backseat as she asked “Where did she go?” 

The attachment that his daughter had developed with you, plus his deep, devoted love to you is what made this decision easy. And now here you are, in your bedroom, unpacking your new life together. 

You heard the lull of music in the background, humming along to Selena as you felt two broad hands slide onto your hips, swaying you to the music. 

“Isn’t this a bit sappy for your playlist?” You quipped, leaning onto Frankie and embracing being engulfed by him. 

He sings along, loudly as you turn to laugh at him. You grab at his baseball cap to get his attention but that’s no use, his arms are quickly back around your waist. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be unpacking?” You say in false protest. 

“Listen to the song, mi reina.” He says, placing his head on top of yours. That familiar Selena song continues to play as you break away from his embrace and look up at him. 

“It feels like this song is following us, sometimes.” You grin, reminiscing on old times. 

“That’s because it’s our song. Our song in our new home has a nice ring to it.” Frankie leans down to meet your lips and all you can think about is how you couldn’t agree more. 

—----------

November just might be the best time to get married in Florida. It’s not as sticky, hot and humid as the summer and it’s not abnormally-cold-for-the-south under 60 degrees. 

It’s the perfect time for friends and family to get together to celebrate. 

It was the perfect day to marry Frankie. 

The ceremony was intimate and beautiful, Gabriella being the flower girl and giving you the rings. From the top of the aisle you could already see the sprinkle of tears in Frankie’s eyes through the glistening of your own. 

At the reception, you had just been introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Francisco Morales and though you didn’t prepare a speech, Frankie clinked his glass to your surprise. 

He thanked everyone for coming and participating in your wedding, jokingly thanking Gabriella for staying up past her bedtime and then he turned to you, taking your hand in his. 

“I met my beautiful wife two and a half years ago at Benny’s wedding. It’s funny, my mamá kept asking me when I would meet the right girl and then I literally ran into her. I remember we sat there talking all night and then suddenly, “I Could Fall in Love” by Selena started playing. Fun fact–that song is 4 minutes and 41 seconds long and I think I spent every single second of that song trying to come up with an excuse to dance with her. I was just so damn nervous, and I could tell she was waiting for me to make a move already!” 

The crowd sprinkles in laughter. 

“Right after that song I finally plucked up the courage to ask her, but that song has seemed to follow us ever since. So although I missed my shot that night with that song, I finally wanna ask her to dance to it tonight.” 

He takes your hand and guides you to the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife. 

You think of the first time you saw him. 

The countless nights of laughs and passion. 

Merging your lives together. 

And now this moment. 

Whenever this song came next into your lives, you knew it would greet you together. 

I could lose my heart tonight

If you don't turn and walk away

'Cause the way I feel I might

Lose control and let you stay

[olivyh]

Haircut- Ruggie Bucchi x reader (Little bit of angst)

Publishing stories that I either wrote a while back or started writing and never got around to finish. May do a part 2 to some of these if I have time. Self-indulgent Ruggie fic because he has always been one of my fav twst characters and has been on my home screen for the greater part of two years ;;;; he has so much unexplored depth that people tend to look over and I would really like to write a character study on him (that along with a study on Kalim, and maybe a further study on their friendship dynamic...)(I've been doing a lot of analyzing and interpreting metaphors in my classes,,, the lines between school and hobby are blurring aaahhhh)

TW: Poverty, a little bit of blood but not a lot, injury, insecurity, absent parents, death

Ruggie nervously runs his hands along the now shorter, nearly shaved sides of his head, the fluff that ran between his ears and down the back of his head much more prominent and fluffed out. His ears twitch at the sudden summer breeze, unused to being so open to the elements. He no longer has to blow his bangs out of his eyes, the brown that was once a small portion of his hair now making up the majority, the blonde only coming out when he pushes his hair back with his hand.

His hair had never been cut so close to the sides, never been so short before. He keeps catching himself rubbing his hands over the short strands. Even when he was younger and had to cut it, his grandmother would always leave it a little on the shaggier side, cutting it so that he could see and it didn't cover too much of his neck.

It all started when he was about to return to NRC after spending the duration of summer break in his hometown, picking up extra hours because he didn't have to worry about homework, tutoring the neighborhood kids, and helping his grandmother around the house just as he had before he had to go to school. At some point, it got in his eyes so often that he had to continually tie it back out of his eyes, a short, flower like tuft atop his head with spiky strands sticking out of the sides and the rest of his hair cascading down the back of his neck, another hair tie going to putting that in a small ponytail.

He came home that night, sweaty, tired, and thoroughly worn out from the day. He collapsed on one of the wooden chairs that was in the kitchen, sighing as his grandmother walked in, laughing.

"What...?" He frowns, looking up at the woman.

"Ya look like a show horse," His grandmother holds him close, taking both the ties out and watching as his hair falls around his face, completely obscuring his eyes and draping down his neck. "Don't'cha think you should cut it?"

"Ya think I should?" She hums, detangling the strands with her claws as Ruggie sighs and leans into her comforting touch, allowing his eyes to slip closed as she fixes his hair. She pulls away, cupping his face in her hands and blowing on his face, making him squirm.

"Bibi..." He whines as she pulls away, ducking into one of the cabinets under the sink and rummaging around. "Let me get whatever you're lookin' for, I don't want ya to get hurt-"

She huffs, standing from her position with a groan as she brushed off her skirt, old scissors in hand. "Sit." He does as she says, a little unnerved by the familiar look of determination in her eyes as she brandished the object. "Don't you wanna look put together for your little friend back on campus?"

"Friend...?" He flushes.

"The one you're tryin' to court," She says matter-of-factly as Ruggie feels some of his hair be lifted and he hears the familiar snip of the scissors, watching the sandy strands fall to the ground in thick chunks. The blush creeps up his neck and he pouts.

"Bibi, it's not like that at all!" He winces when she grabs both sides of his head and moves him so he's sitting up straight. "They're just a friend of mine, promise."

"Do not lie to me, mister," She says. "I raised you since you were a minute old, I know ya too well for you to try playin' these tricks on me!"

"Right..." He sighs, staring at his clenched fists that sit in his lap. "It's not gonna get anywhere, though. They don't like me like that." He feels a rush of sadness, his heart aching as their smiling face flashes in their mind, quickly followed by the familiar burn of envy when he thinks about them being with anyone else. Nobody had treated him with such kindness before, nobody had listened to his story in earnest, taken in every detail and attached it to his character rather than just writing him off as a petty thief from the slums.

But even more importantly... nobody else had seen past that. Nobody else had looked him in the eyes and told him that where he came from didn't define his worth, didn't define who he was as a person. That yes, it was a part of him, but it wasn't him.

He was more than a petty thief, more than the slums, more than a deceased mother and absent father. He was Ruggie, and that's all they cared about.

Maybe that's why they were able to capture his closed off heart so easily.

"What makes ya think that?" His grandmother interrupts his train of thought, continuing to cut through his coarse hair, the strands making his neck and back itch until it's nearly unbearable.

"I..." He pauses. "They're smart, and strong, and kind. I-I wouldn't wanna drag them down with me, y'know? They... they deserve more than that."

"If they were really worth this much of your attention, they wouldn't be the kind of person to care about all that," She was right, Ruggie knew that. The prefect wouldn't care to live the kind of life that he had to live, but he didn't want them to. As much as it pained him to say, he wanted for them to not have to fight to live anymore than they already are in Ramshackle.

With a stab of pain to his heart, he realized that he would rather them marry someone like Kalim or Leona- someone with status, wealth, someone that could take care of them and keep them safe, keep them comfortable and happy for the rest of their life.

His grandmother sighs. "If they care about you this much, they'll accept everything about you."

"I-I don't know if they actually care," His gut twists at the thought of them liking him back- a mix of anxiety and excitement that makes him sick to his stomach. He knew it was a lie, though. Of course they cared for him. Of course, after everything they've done...

"They do. They stuck with ya during the Magshift match, didn't they?" She pushes his head down, cutting off another layer of hair from the back. His mind flashes back to that day, the intolerable pain of his throat and lungs being turned to sand, watching parts of his own arm crumble to bits and fall to the ground with drops of his own blood dripping into the dry dirt. And, of course, the prefect pulling him away from Leona, dragging him to safety and holding him in their lap as they tried to get his lungs to function normally, using their blazer to block his face so he wouldn't breathe in any more dust than he already has.

"Breathe, Ruggie," He remembers hearing their soft, shaking voice in his haze, hand rubbing the sides of his throat. "Breathe, please."

And, of course, the other times. Giving him their lunch when they 'weren't hungry', working with him in the Lounge and helping him fight off unruly customers, doing laundry with him, sitting with him while he cried on his eighteenth birthday, the familiar guilt of his life being traded for his mother's filling his heart as it does every year.

They cared. They cared more than anyone besides his grandmother had. That's what scared him the most.

"Listen, kipenzi," The woman's normally gruff voice is soft, taking on a tone that he heard often when he was a little kid. "This person means a lot to ya, I can tell," She resumes, now standing in front of him and cutting his bangs, making him wrinkle his nose and hold in a sneeze. "You're a smart boy, open your eyes and see what's really happening."

"I know I'm bein'..."

"A boy in love. That's what you're bein' right now," She chuckles, taking the hair on the sides of his head off in thick chunks, going shorter than she had with the front and back of his hair. "I know you're not the kind of person to do these things without thinkin', or without fightin' it as much as you can. You've been that way since you were a little boy, y'know?" She chuckles and he closes his eyes, feeling tears well up behind his eyelids. "You're smarter than that, and I know that you know what you're doing."

"I don't-" His voice breaks and he fights the urge to sniffle. Ruggie's face flushed a light pink in embarrassment, crying over a school crush in front of his grandmother, who simply hushes him and wipes his tears with her thumb.

"You do know. You just have to be more confident. I know you can do that. You're my strong, confident little boy," She kisses the space between his eyebrows. "And ya always have been, nobody can change that fact."

"How can I...?" He gulps, trying to hold in his sniffles as she finishes cutting his hair, placing the scissors on the table and pulling him in for a hug, lightly pushing his face into the crook of her neck as he tried to control his breathing, the feeling of doubt that he's become quickly accustomed to muffling any coherent thought he could piece together.

"Do what you always do. That's what attracted them in the first place, no?" He nods as she backs away and hands him a small mirror. He smiles as he looks at his reflection, rubbing the sides and laughing at the rougher texture, playing with his bangs and shaking out the extra hair that may have gotten caught.

He's pulled back to the present, standing in the courtyard brimming with students, new and old. He recognizes some familiar faces; Riddle lecturing some of his new arrivals, the Octavinelle trio practically scaring their new students half to death, Kalim excitedly showing some students around, Epel from Spelldrive club last year adjusting the crown given to the Dorm Leader of Pomefiore every year, Ortho, now donning the Ignihyde Dorm Leader uniform, and the new Dorm Leader and Vice Dorm Leader of Diasomnia, Silver and Sebek, the latter of the two yelling so loud that Ruggie was sure that even the non beastmen could hear him from where he was standing.

His heart leaps when his eyes land on the Prefect, grinning and giving them a wave.

"So," He practically runs up to them, nudging them with his shoulder. "How was summer vacation with the Headmaster?"

They chuckle in response. "Short lived. He sent me to Crewel's after the first two weeks." Ruggie frowns at that, sighing dramatically.

"Oh how terrible~!" They punch him lightly and he laughs. "You seem pretty normal, though, so you weren't tortured or forced to be one of his dogs or anything."

The Prefect nods in response. "You seem pretty normal too, except," They smile, and he feels his heart soar at the sight. "Nice haircut. Trying something different?" He shrugs.

"It's my third year, y'know? Gotta switch things up," He, as if on instinct, pushes his hand along the side of his head.

They smile. "It's cute," He pauses, nearly choking on air as he fights the blush from creeping across his face. "I'm gonna miss the old fluff, though."

"It's still fluffy on top," He simpers, ducking his head. They take the hint and, although hesitant, run their hands through the longer part on top. He bites back a hum of contentment as he feels their delicate touch run along his scalp, brushing over the nearly bare sides before dropping off his head- much sooner than the hyena would have liked.

They smile at him before opening their mouth to say something else, cut off by their first year- well, now second year- friends.

"Prefect! Over here!" The prefect waves at them before turning back to Ruggie. "Hey, so, I have to run. But lets hang out soon, okay? Especially now that you don't have to babysit Leona," They both laugh at that. "See you later, Savanaclaw Dorm Leader."

"Y-yeah, bye!" He watches them run to the former first years, suddenly excited for the school year that lays ahead of him. With a pep to his step, he strides back to the mirror chamber, already planning to decide how he was going to confess.

[ezras--moon]

C'mere

named after and partly inspired by this Interpol song (one of my favorite bands) - this one's a continuation of Red Smoke.

It's real fluffy, with some angst, and some soft smut. Soooo soft, y'all.

I dedicate this to @sneetsnootyoit @dreamsofmandalore and @serenaxpedro who share my love for Ezra.

Ezra is back from The Green, and he's brought somebody with him - a teenage girl. He's lost something, too. You figure he's changing.

18+ Minors do not interact

word count: 3167

Warnings: slight angst, domestic fluff, soft smut, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected PiV sex.

Puggart Bench was mostly quiet at night, but ever since Ezra had left, you couldn’t sleep. Every day was a struggle with anxiety, a nasty fear stabbing your insides and twisting the metaphorical knife. What if he was dead out there? What if there was no way to recover his body? What if you had to figure out what to do with your life, alone? Ezra had been a powerful force creating a strong current in your life - he had an internal compass and an exact map of what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go, a list to cross off. 

He’d always wanted you around for his journey to any one of the pit stops along the way ever since you’d met, and now you couldn’t be with him, and you were filled with regret. Maybe you should have gone with him. You could have even stayed in the lander, made it homely and warm for him to come back to every night. But you didn’t.

That day when his crew returned without him and another missing guy was the worst day of your life. You didn’t know them, but still pressed them for answers, and one of them physically pushed you away, had you fall on your ass with tears in your eyes and desperation in your voice - and he made fun of you for it. 

They left you sitting there and you went home feeling like someone just dug their fingers into your chest cavity and ripped your heart out in a single motion. You couldn’t feel your legs. They said he started it, he brought it upon himself, and if he was lucky he might find a way to come back, but told you not to wait for him hoping. It was fucked up, the way there was nothing you could do, because everybody knew you could easily perish on The Green. The risk was so great that there was very little the galactic forces could do to intervene. It was so great that crews returning incomplete was a regular occurrence. 

The argument from before Ezra left came back to you then, and you wished you’d been more assertive. You wished you’d somehow convinced him to stay. These three cycles until he miraculously showed up in the middle of the night were the worst days of your life.

~~~

Eyes still puffy from crying, half asleep, you jolted upright in bed when you heard the door code being punched in and the lock snapping open. Hushed voices were audible in the hallway, one of them clearly Ezra, and you were running to the door. The silhouette of him made your heart drop to your knees again - he was missing an arm.

There was another thing; he was leading a small blonde teenage girl into your apartment, she was carrying a pack almost as tall as his own on her back and set it down in the kitchen before Ezra noticed you standing in the shadows near the door. “Little bird-” he said softly, holding out his remaining hand, beckoning for you to come closer.

Then, nothing could hold you back and you rushed to pull him into your arms. He smelled like he’d just been in the shower, and there was a professionally done bandage around the stump of his arm - he must have gone to the medic station before he’d come home. “What the fuck, Ezra.” you said, indiscernible tone. “Please, sit. I have a lot to tell you.” he said, motioning for all three of you to sit around the kitchen table. The strange girl kept her curious eyes locked on you, watching every movement, but giving you a shy smile when you caught her staring.

“This is Cee” Ezra introduced the girl, who gave you a wordless nod. She looked terrified. He introduced you to her and she nodded again. 

“Her father unfortunately passed on The Green-” “You killed him.” Cee interrupted, brows knitted together in a frown that said a thousand words. “You killed her father?!” “Now, hang on a minute there, that is simply not the whole unadulterated truth, Birdie. First of all, he was going to steal my Aurelac, and given that I promised you it’d be my last venture on the godforsaken Moon and had just spent a considerable chunk of time harvesting it, you can imagine that I wasn’t all too pleased with that development.” Cee rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. Seemed like this wasn’t the first time they talked, and disagreed, about it.

“And I didn’t intend to end his life. My partner however seemed too eager to take the first opportunity to do so, and in a subsequent exchange of projectiles - they killed each other.” he explained, and that made more sense. Ezra wouldn’t kill a girl’s father for no reason. Not the Ezra you knew. “By the time Cee here had taken off with her thrower, her dearly departed Daddy Damon was still breathin’, more or less. I ended his sufferin’.” Cee was fuming, boiling furiously, and it was clearly visible in her eyes even in the dim lighting.

You opened your mouth for a reply, but nothing came to mind. All of this was overwhelming and convoluted. Ezra pointed at his shoulder. “Now this, this… situation, that is Cee’s doing. I had it comin’, encroached on her space, you know? She was hidin’ out in her piece of junk lander, thought I’d come to exercise revenge on a little girl. Shot me right in the bicep, fierce little creature she is. Ain’t that right, Cee?” Cee stared at him, wide eyes, a layer of disgust beneath the surface.

Wordlessly you tilted your head, expecting him to elaborate further. He took a deep breath and shot you an apologetic smile which you didn’t reciprocate. “Well, then the two of us made our way to where Damon was leading her, to aid some Mercenaries in diggin’ up more Aurelac. The Queen’s Lair was real, little bird. I saw it” he said, as if you’d care.

“But on our path there, due to inadequate treatment, my arm was beginning to fester, and some Sater attempted to buy this little firecracker off my hands like cattle. Both of us narrowly escaped in different directions, found each other again soon after, and she made quick work of my arm. Got the incision down so clean you wouldn’t believe.” he said proudly with a big grin at Cee, who finally relaxed her shoulders and smiled at him.

“And by Kevva if I hadn’t had her with me, I would not be sittin’ pretty on my behind in our kitchen on Puggart Bench at this moment.” he concluded, and you were confused - was he expecting you to not be filled with rage right now? “Ezra, I thought you were dead. Your crew came back without you three god damn days ago. I’ve got all of your paperwork right here, I was ready to have them pronounce you dead, like officially, and I was going to have a funeral service with an empty urn!” you almost yelled, hands shaking and tears spilling over, running down your face salty and hot.

Ezra’s expression fell and he suddenly looked lost, sad puppy dog eyes as he reached out to wipe away your tears, but you swatted his hand away. His usual persistence gone, he lowered it into his lap instead. The scar on his cheek was shimmering silvery and he began crying too, voice and lip trembling. “I’m truly sorry, sparrow… I wish I could make right by you with something other than the money I made on this trip” You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, sniffling and leaning back in the chair. After a beat of silence, you collected yourself. “How much did you make?” you asked, interest piqued. The mischievous grin growing on his face was a thing of beauty - and you couldn’t deny it was exciting to think about the possibility of home ownership on any planet you felt like settling down on. 

“It’s in the millions, I-” he said and you cut him off with a shriek, throwing your hands over your mouth in shock then, and his grin got even wider. Even Cee smiled as you looked back and forth between them both. “Where do you wanna go, pretty girl? Take your pick, the galaxy’s your oyster” Ezra said in a low voice, leaning towards you. 

~~~

Cee decided to stay. She had no family left, she’d grown attached to Ezra despite their short and rocky history, and you liked her, liked what she had to say. She was intelligent and witty, eager to help you both around the house, and excited to dig into the collection of books you kept stowed away in the spare room she now inhabited. Making the place her own, she’d put up photos of her parents on the wall above her bed and spread her own knitted blanket over the sheets.

The teenager also had no small part in picking a planet to settle down on - you unanimously decided on Camrea. Finding a house with some land there wasn’t so hard either. 

You were sitting on the living room floor with them, Ezra’s head in your lap while you read through postings of property for sale and rides to Camrea you could take that would allow for heavy luggage. Cee’s music was playing softly in the background and she was wrapped in a blanket to your left. “Here, look” she said, holding up her tablet to show you an ad for a cottage that looked like something straight from a fairy tale. 

The cobblestone pavement, lush greenery, a moss covered half-globe shaped house and the surrounding land was photographed expertly. There were some kind of furry animals grazing within a fenced area to the side, tall concave windows allowing for an unobstructed view of the sky from inside and gorgeous hardwood floors in every room; it even had a fireplace - it was perfect. You nodded and Ezra turned his head to get a look too. “Bookmark that, girlie!” he said with a smile.

~~~

Two nights after Ezra had come home, you could finally sleep through the night again. He was still learning to do everything with his left hand, though he was looking forward to seeing a doctor and commissioning a prosthetic arm as well. The waiting lists were long and it was expensive these days - not that he had to worry about that last part. 

He was cooking something when you woke up, talking to Cee and laughing a lot; it made you smile into the crook of your arm. This would be easy to get used to. 

It took him a while to get comfortable with having only one arm, his dominant hand missing in his day-to-day as well as your time with him alone in the bedroom, when Cee was asleep just one door down.

You missed the feeling of him being able to loop his arms around your waist and lift you off the floor to throw you onto the bed, you missed his ability to hold himself up and touch you at the same time, and you missed his practiced snaps of his right wrist delivering sharp smacks to your ass. He was getting better at doing that with his left though.

He had you on your back, his big hand splayed on your mound and abdomen, fingertips tracing patterns into your skin there as he buried his face in your cunt. Moaning into you, he devoured you so hungrily, lapping and sucking and taking what you gave him. It was soft and sweet and slow, such a stark contrast to the last time he’d had you before he left. You thought maybe that side of him was gone for good now, deleted by the trauma he endured on The Green. Maybe having a child in the house made him want to be quieter and more careful with you, hesitant to leave bruises.

Whatever it was, you decided to just accept it and ride it out, like surfing a wave. 

His kisses lingered on your skin, wet and warm, trailing all along your sides, your back, your chest and your tummy. His hand was eager to touch all of you and while he explored the expanse of your skin, you were almost certain he was touching spots he’d never touched before. 

He was quieter too, and when he spoke to you, the words weren’t half as filthy. Maybe he was just savoring every second he got to have you all to himself, every moment he wasn’t parted from you.

“Scoot down here” he breathed, moving away and kneeling off the foot end of the bed, and you shuffled down until your legs hung over the edge, on his shoulders. His palm, his fingertips, his knuckles all stroked along your right thigh, slowly up and down as he kissed the inside of your left, and you sighed as you fell back into the mattress.

Fingers in his hair playing with the little blond streak at his temple, you watched him intently as he dipped down below and spread your slick on his tongue, swirling it around your clit just the way you liked. With your mouth agape, you shuddered when he held eye contact from between your thighs and pushed two of his thick fingers inside your cunt. You gasped when he curled them inside you, prodding into your front wall, where you were most sensitive to stimulation of all kinds.

You were in heaven with him then, the deep look into each other’s eyes, brows knitted together. He was full on making out with your pussy and had you unraveling, whimpering and arching your back for him within minutes. “Cum for be, beautiful girl” he coaxed, “wanna feel you squeeze my fingers before I have you ride me to completion-” “Shut up, Ezra.” He laughed and returned his mouth to have his tongue dip back between your folds.

You came with a soft whine you half bit down, he groaned into your heat and closed his eyes for just a moment - you couldn’t wait to find out how hard he was for you in his sweatpants.

He was shirtless already, a fresh bandage patched up the knife wound in his belly; he wiped his mouth on the inside of your thigh after he’d guided you through your orgasm, standing up helped by his palm steadying him on your knee. You could see the outline of his impressive manhood through the fabric of the gray sweats as you watched him come up to your side, standing there and palming himself for a moment just looking at your naked blissed out form in his bed.

You got on your knees and followed him to where he stood, whispering and wetting your lips with a swipe of your tongue, reaching out for him, “C’mere.” He smiled, calm breaths in his rib cage inflating and deflating evenly. You hooked two fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled him flush against the side of the mattress, pulling them down far enough so his cock was free and right in front of your face.

“You look radiant, you’re a goddess, little bird- fuck, you’re gorgeous like this” he praised as you curled your fingers around him and sucked the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. He smoothed your hair behind your ear and you helped him gather it all in his hand to hold on to and guide your head as you began to move along his length.

A soft gasp fell from his lips and he was being so careful with you - before he’d left this was rather rare for him, but now he was like this every night you had sex and you didn’t know if you wanted him to stop. Your eyes fluttered shut as he hit the back of your throat and you got him nice and wet, spitting on him and spreading your saliva with your fist.

He stepped out of his sweatpants and crawled past you, leaning back against the headboard as you straddled him. You handed him a pillow and you worked in tandem as he positioned it behind his head and you lined yourself up with his cock. Slowly sinking down, feeding him into you, you both moaned quietly; the delicious stretch of your walls taking him whole made you feel so full of him.

But you were filled with him in other ways too; his homely, earthy scent in your nose mixing with the smell of sex between your bodies, his lips against yours and brushing the side of your neck, his moans and sweet nothings in your ear and his hand squeezing your ass and helping you sink down on his cock in a slow, sensual rhythm -  these all made everything else fade into the background. 

“Baby, you feel so good” you huffed, feeling every inch of him squeezed so tightly in your center “I fucking love your cock inside me.” “I know, birdie, I know.” 

He kissed you. 

He kissed you on your mouth, sighing, rutting his hips upward to meet you halfway as you rode him. “I missed you so much when I was up there, baby, you have no idea” he whispered, “it wasn’t the same without your precious company.”

He kissed you along your jaw, tongue darting out hot against your skin with little bites he left there, quiet, low humming groans in his chest growing more needy and urgent with every set of thrusts in his lap.

He kissed your neck and pressed his lips all over your collarbone too, reaching out to tenderly squeeze your breast. 

Rolling the nipple between his thumb and pointer, stroking the knuckle of his finger reverentially along the curve around the underside as he watched you bounce in awe, he kissed you some more.

You came together, in the midst of a deep, open-mouthed kiss that left you breathless and full of wonder. Ezra was so beautiful then, beneath you with your tits in his face, his deep dark eyes peeking up into yours with so much love, so many words left unsaid - for now. You were sure he was going to find a way to say them soon, as were you.

This time, you took care of him after - sneaking to the bathroom and listening for signs of Cee being awake, finding her snoring in her bed. You cleaned yourself up with a warm washcloth, taking another one with you, along with a fresh bottle of water, for your lover waiting for you in your bed.

Ezra kissed you again as you helped him wipe the sweat off his brow and your combined juices off his still half hard length. He cupped your cheek in his palm and you’d never seen him so calm and content.

[nolita-fairytale]

just a little sneak peek from the bear fic that has consumed my brain for the past few days

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

a/n: hi hello this is just a preview. i wasn't going to write a fic about hulu/fx's the bear, and this story has taken over my brain. i also made reader a pastry chef and um... well, clearly so has everyone else, so while i'm hopelessly unoriginal, please enjoy. i'm hoping to post the full ch. 1 tomorrow. if you haven't watched the bear, this show if exceptional but heavy.

“Well, man, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. Sorry I haven’t called. Things at the restaurant have been… well you know how it goes,” Carmy’s old sous chef explains, a sigh of exhaustion escaping his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah. No, I-, you called now. Yeah… I uh, never thought I’d be here but… things are…” Carmy trails off. 

“Yeah.”

And then there’s quiet. It’s almost as if his old sous is waiting for him to ask the question – the question they both know he’s been asking in every silence, every pregnant pause left between them. 

Carmy weighs his options. He doesn’t know why it feels like he’s showing his whole hand if he asks if he asks about you. Not like anyone in the kitchen didn’t notice. 

You were best friends after all. Spent all your time together. 

Inseparable.

And then there was that night. 

The night you both agreed to forget but one he can’t seem to. 

He wonders if you think about it too.

And now? Now that the fog is starting to clear… now that the restaurant has a little money… and he can think for a fuckin’ second…. 

“How’s uh… how is she?” Carmy finally manages to get out. 

“You haven’t heard?” his sous asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 

Carmy is silent for a moment, his head swimming with anxiety. What was he going to say? Carmy braced himself to be metaphorically punched in the gut, waiting for what came next. Why was he so sure that whatever his sous said would upset him? 

“Uh-, um, no I-. We haven’t talked much since I came home.”

“Ahhh.” 

Another silence, before the man on the other line clears his throat before continuing with, “Yeah, she uh, well you’ll never believe it but she quit.”

“She what?!”

“Yeah, I think everyone was just as surprised, man. Something about being burnt out and needing some time to find-, well, I don’t know but…” he trails off. He knows that any advice that he gives Carmy will not only be unsolicited, but that there’s a slim chance he’ll actually take it. “Restaurant keeps saying she’s taking a sabbatical. Think they’re still hoping she’ll come back.”

“You should give her a call.”

And it’s as if Carmy can’t get off the phone fast enough. 

“Yeah, I uh-, thanks man. It was really good talking to you.”

And that’s how you ended up here, at six fuckin’ o clock in the morning. 

Chicago isn’t as hot as NYC in the summer. But the heat — or lack there of — isn’t why you’re here either.

Honestly, you’re not sure why the hell you’re here. 

Get out of dodge. Something about needing to find meaning. Because you could never really say ‘no’ to Carmy. 

Because… Carmy.

[nerd-at-sea5]

alright this is pt 2 to 'i spent my teens in rage, spiralin' in silence' AKA the long ass yellowjackets fic i'm writing AKA the sam fender fic

pt 1 is here, pt 3 is here, ao3 link here

and uh yeah. lets go pt 2

also, during any wilderness scene this takes place in-between s1e7 and s1e10, laura lee is alive, taivan came out slightly earlier (during/around the wolf attack)

it feels weird, she thinks, to be this focused on a girl when one of the greatest albums in nat's collection is playing-and for once, for once-no one on the team is complaining.

but natalie's sitting in one of taissa's chairs, nirvana's 'bleach' halfway over from her record player-and nat can barley focus on the lyrics.

they don't need to, they know it by heart, but there's something about the way lottie's lips move to the lyrics of 'paper cuts' that make nat's stomach feel fuzzy.

van flops down next to-practically on top of her, and after one glance at their pink cheeks, nat twists around to see taissa walking out of the hallway that leads to the bathroom. she smirks at van, raising an eyebrow, how'd that go? and gets a smile and a thumbs up in response, pretty damn good.

'and they cock and-' "WOAH."

natalie's jolted out of her wordless conversation with van, as well as their increasingly more concerning lottie thoughts (now that's she's taken the time to unpack with van and realized what they actually mean) by laura lee's shocked yell, quickly scrambling to stop the record.

"laura lee, the fuck?"

"that's not-i don't get-why would that be in a song?" her face is getting redder by the second, and nat feels a small twinge of remorse, "kurt cobain-"

"it's actually an abuse metaphor," lottie interjects, and natalie's jaw almost hits the floor. the taller girl’s words are soft, her hand resting on laura lee’s knee to calm them, and nat feels a pang of jealousy. “the lyrics before 'the lady whom i feel maternal love for / cannot look me in the eyes / but i see hers and they are blue' is about how the mom who's abusing her kid can't look him in the face, but the kid can-"

"and the kid sees her true self." natalie interjects, and lottie gives her a soft smile that sends a jolt down their throat, her brown eyes flickering in the light of the lighter van is playing with-who snorts and lets nat continue. "and that true self is a monster."

she twists their hands in her lap, laura lee's eyes flicking around while she processes it, maybe they shouldn't have jumped in to explain those lyrics. van notices, and a hand closes around natalie's as tai turns to lottie, "how do you know that?"

the other girl shrugs, "i knew nat liked them, i figured it'd be a fun thing to check out and research."

the fuzzy feeling returns, racing to nat's heart as she spots a little blush on lottie's cheeks.

"i...thanks, lot."

van audibly groans, "alright, um...nat can you grab me some water, dude?”

"why the fu-oh. yeah, anyone else want some?"

laura lee holds out her cup, “me please.” while lottie raises a hand, "i'll go with you?"

natalie nods as van shoves her out of the chair, flashing a thankful look at the redhead, whos already moved on to show laura lee how to make a paper airplane out of taissa's homework.

the two end up in tai's kitchen, and when nat remembers that van loves chewing on ice in their water, lottie offers to hold open the freezer door while nat grabs some.

they do so, thankful for the burst of cold air that can be used to excuse the pink tinge on her cheeks.

it's only when natalie straightens, turning around and placing the glass on the counter next to them-she realizes that with lottie's arm stretched to prop open the door, when they turn, natlie is not only standing semi-inside the freezer-she's also chest-to-chest with lottie, who clearly wasn't expecting being this close either, and who is looking down at nat with those goddamn brown eyes.

"i-sorry, i can move-" lottie reaches to pull her arm back, and without thinking, natalie's hand lands on top of her wrist, holding it in place on the door, they can feel lottie's pulse racing-mimicking the quick thudding in nat's chest.

"....don't."

they've somehow ended up even closer now, and it's a single look; lottie's already been looking slightly down at nat-but now, her eyes drop impossibly lower for a split second-right to her lips, and directly back up to their face.

it's the 'go ahead' that she needs.

nat's hand leaves her wrist, moving to grab and pull lottie by the collar of her blue flannel while lottie's hand simultaneously cups the back of natalie's head, pulling her up ever so slightly.

it feels so different from all other kisses they've had, from all the boys when they were drunk or high or both, the boys who she'd kiss so she could ignore who she really wanted to kiss, all the times when they've been fully in control.

lottie doesn't feel like she's kissing natalie to do anything else. not to go any further or to get something out of it. it feels like she's kissing nat simply to feel their lips pressed against hers. it's a breath of fresh air-a joyous laugh in the face of everyone who made nat think you had to go further.

lottie isn't kissing natalie to go further. natalie's never wanted to go further. lottie is kissing natalie's just to kiss her.

and natalie's heart is cheering.

there's no control, everything is sliding in their brain, landing perfectly in it's place-it feels so, so right.

lottie tastes like strawberries and chocolate and for some reason natalie loves it. she wants to bottle it up and drink it when they're having a shit day, or just hold in this moment and never let go.

she feels like she's on the step to the edge of the diving board, right before you jump in, the first breathe of summer air when the school bell rings, the way biting into buttered challah feels.

there's a glowing heat spreading to their chest, their lips, their fingertips as lottie's other hand rests on her hip, she's leaning forward and natalie steps back, intending to let her back hit whatever wall was behind them-forgetting it's an open fridge-and nearly headbutts the pickle jar.

they break apart, and for one terrifying moment, natalie thinks lottie's going to run, back upstairs, back, back and away from her.

but insted, lottie smiles, tracing her hand down nat's arm and intertwining their fingers together.

---------

natalie really thought that after seeing coach's crushed leg, maggots inside a deer, her girlfriends possession and her dad's half missing head every night in their dreams for the past few weeks-nothing gory related could shake her much any more.

clearly, based on how the moment tai's legs gave out and van crumbled in front of them, natalie caught one look at the soaked blood through the clothes on van's face, down their side, down taissa's side and froze-they were very wrong.

she could hear everyone else screaming around her, maibly coach ben’s voice-trying to give off some futile attempt to show authority-but everything tunneled down to van's hand, gripping nat's leg like a lifeline, and the repeated tapping becoming more and more urgent until-

'hug?' morse code.

"yes. yeah, god fuck. van-" natalie wraps her arms around van from the non-injured side, tai still holding tightly onto van's hand.

a vivid memory of both van and nat flinching away from needles during the flu shots given, van bursting into tears only seconds after natalie, comes surging back as nat watches akilah angles the needle to van's cheek, taissa’s fear stricken face, gently rubbing van’s forehead, nat feels van's legs shaking.

nat can barley even watch without feeling her whole body go into panic mode, instead forcing themself to look at laura lee's soft hands holding down van's arm, a carefully crafted mask over the blonde girl's face, whispering silent prayers. she nods at nat, then at akilah. coach ben is at van's head, terror clear as day in his eyes, “carful. please.”

nat holds down van's legs while holding back tears. why van? why happy, funny, kind van? why her best friend? the sudden stillness of van's movements letting nat know that they've passed out does nothing to ease her anxiety, in fact it might make it worse.

she refuses to leave, mirroring tai as the two sit and silently watch over van's sleeping figure. it's only when shauna and lottie come in, shauna sitting next to tai and slowly coaxing her out of the room (not without many protests on tai's part, and one minor attempt from ben-that does not work) and to sleep for the first time in what nat thinks is around 36 hours.

"if you're going to tell me to sleep-"

"never."

lottie's voice is calm and caring, as she takes tai's former seat, gently taking natalie's hand, breaking the grip that the blond had been holding her other wrist in, leaving small, crescent shaped marks.

lottie ran her fingers over nat's hand, tracing the lines and keeping it in place when nat subconsciously jerks back to indenting their own skin.

nat dosen't realize she's begun to cry until lottie's hand cups their head as they fall into her, shaking silently.

something about lottie and holding her head always made nat feel safe. maybe it was the way lottie's hands were always soft, despite the manual labor they'd been in for the past weeks, or maybe it was because she always held nat close and tight. maybe it was that natalie could just exist around lottie, she didn't have to say anything or do anything, just existing was good enough.

the brunette said nothing, just held natalie as close as possible, that same soft, caring way she always did, gently running her hand through their hair.

"they'll be alright."

"what if they're not, lot? what if they'll never be alright? what if-"

"nat." lottie interrupts before natalie can send herself into a spiral, "breathe, baby. ok? can you do that for me?" nat shakes her head, worse case scenarios popping up each time they try to inhale, fists clenched tightly in their lap.

they feel their body move, vaguely aware of her back pressed to lottie's front, lottie's hands worming their way into nat's fists.

lottie's good at this, diffusing natalie's anxiety-not as good as van, she thinks as a fresh wave of anxiety hits.

they don't know how long they sit there, but natalie can feel their breathing go back to normal, can feel lottie press a soft kiss to her temple, "feeling better?" "mhm."

van whimpers, lottie and nat instantly on their feet as van's face twitches.

lottie squeezes nat's hand, another soft smile that has natalie feeling warmer even after lottie's hand leaves, quickly leaving the room to go retrieve taissa.

"nat?"

van gets an answer, non-verbal, but physical, with natalie throwing herself onto van (avoiding all of the wounds) and squeezes them so tight she can feel her own arms straining, "if you ever" nat manages to breathe out, "scare me like that again and i swear on laura lee's bible i will fucking kill you."

van's chest shakes slightly, they wince, slowly forming words, "good to know you love me."

"so fucking much."

---------

only jackie taylor would find a way to have a team bonding moment while trapped in the middle of nowhere.

travis, javi and coach are off having a ‘boys night’ or whatever the fuck that means (lottie thinks they just wanted some alone time) so all the team members are outside around the shitty fire they managed to make with a lot of swearing, minor shoving, and nat’s lighter.

in all honesty, lottie didn’t even want to be here. it’s been getting harder and harder to block out the thoughts that aren’t in her own voice, or to not flinch when she looks at one of her friends and spots a bug on their face. it always starts small.

she’s been falling back in on herself, regressing to behaviors she hasn’t shown since middle school. laura lee notices, laura lee was there when she freaked out in seventh grade, laura lee was there when she got diagnosed, laura lee’s always been there, she always knows.

nat notices, but natalie dosent know, lottie doesn’t want them to know. she’s heard natalie waking up every night, breathe tight and fast, whispers of dead men who haunt them when they’re asleep and even more when they’re awake. natalie dosent need to know. she won’t, if lottie can do anything about it.

lottie smiles to herself at the sight of natalie's face, pushing back her mind and focusing on the shorter girl.

mouth slightly open, pulled into a slight smirk at the left side, brow furrowed with one eyebrow raised, freckles across her nose shining out bright as day in the firelight, she's scoffing at jackie, van snorting next to her, a tight lipped smile doing little to hide the humor on their face while tai watches, a lovesick expression clear as day on her face.

jackie's expression doesn't shift, and laura lee flashes lottie a look from across the circle, "what about never have i ever?"

natalie looks down, mindlessly drawing in the dirt with her fingers, shrugs, "what the hell else are we gonna do?"

"i can recite-"

"van, dude, babe, sweetheart, love of my love-i love you, i truly do, but if you recite the plot of 'dead poets society' again i do not think laura lee will recover from her tears."

"it's really sad, ok?!"

lottie grins again, "ok, next time how about 'heathers'?” van flashes her a grin and a thumbs up as they slump against taissa, the latter kissing them on the forehead as they do, “but for now, we don't need to drink, just hold up five fin-ok we all know how to play."

nat knocks her elbow into lottie, only to drum on her sleeves with her fingers while rolling their eyes at the taller-but it's accompanied with the same smile that lottie only ever sees aimed at her.

mari goes first, 'never have i ever thrown up in school', lottie's finger goes down-a side effect of the first meds her parents tried, so does van's-that one time their mom made them go to school with the flu, and right after seeing van vomit at practice-yep, there goes shauna.

gen next, 'never have i ever gone surfing' where, to lottie's surprise, taissa and melissa are the only ones to put a finger down.

it goes like that for a bit, natalie and lottie both go out for being high at school, jackie for accidentally hitting someone's mailbox more than once in the same car (lottie had to question laura lee's specificities), lottie goes out again with taissa, jackie and shauna for traveling out of the country before, and then it's misty's turn.

"uh..never have i ever had my first kiss?"

van snickers, but around the circle-jackie, shauna, nat, tai, van, lottie, akilah, and laura lee's fingers all go down.

taissa's eyebrows shoot up and lottie can almost predict what she's going to say before she does, "wait-laura lee, who did you kiss?"

the blonde grins shyly, "that wasn't the question."

jackie holds up her hand to laura lee, "nicely done, laura lee."

nat leans forward "ill give you a really cool lookin' pine cone if you tell me." but shauna interrupts before laura lee can respond, “we could go in a circle and say who our first kiss was?"

no one opposes, so she glances at jackie before at the rest of the group, lottie can see most people look calm, jackie looks slightly more on edge, but she's hiding it well.

"so..who's first?"

out of the corner of her eye, lottie sees van and nat glance at each other, then burst out laughing, through gasps of air, they each choke out the others name.

"what?!" taissa's starring at van in shock, and lottie can only imagine that her face holds the same expression as she looks at natalie.

van holds up their hands, giggling at jackie's startled expression and misty's wide eyes, "look. look-we were like 14, and-"

"it was so fuckin’ bad."

"nat!"

"i'm not sorry! it was, it was like kissing your sibling! hated it."

van pauses for a moment, composing themself,"yeah i hated it as well."

lottie sighs, scooting closer to nat, "jealous?" the blonde whispers at her, slight anxiety coating her words, lottie shakes her head, "i think it's funny." nat nods slowly, smiling up at her "ok, thanks."

van giggles, "hey, i mean-remember that spin-the-bottle a while ago when tai and nat kissed?"

taissa scoots away, van almost falling over, "dude!" "i thought we agreed never to mention that."

the four of them laugh again, and misty raises her hand, "wait-ok. who did laura lee kiss, and...how many people here have kissed natalie?"

laura lee catches lottie's eye from across the circle, tilting her head to the side, a silent 'is it ok?'. lottie nods.

"i kissed lottie."

"i beg your fucking pardon?" nat is staring at lottie with the same face she was just staring at them with.

"LOTTIE?!" jackie's mouth is hanging open so wide that shauna lifts up her hand to put jackie's chin back.

"hey! welcome to the gays, man." van is grinning madly when they say it, a double thumbs up in laura lee's direction.

shauna turns to face lottie, who can feel herself going red from how hard she's trying to hold back her laugher, "i was trying to figure out if i liked girls.....what are friends for?"

laura lee giggles, "it was a fun experience, it's not like it was anything bad."

mari shrugs, "i feel a little slighted by the fact that you've kissed someone before me, but going back to the other one-nat. how many team members have you kissed?"

lottie turns to natalie, who glances up at her with a sly grin, "van and tai we've already covered, lottie, shauna-that time at a temple trip on a dare, and ja-"

"it didn't count."

shauna's head snaps to jackie so fast that for a split second lottie thinks she whiplashed herself. "you've kissed natalie?!"

"it didn't count!" jackie repeats, "my first kiss was jeff. besides it wasn't even a real kiss, i'm not a lesbo, anyway."

instinctivly, lottie's hand gripped nat's, who's had already curled into a fist, laura lee and tai had both flinched slightly, while van was glaring daggers at jackie, “what the fuck, man?” -shauna looked hurt.

lottie watched natalie's gaze harden, "yeah, didn't seem to count-what with you pushing me into the locker and-"

jackie lunged forward, clapping a hand over natalie's mouth, knocking them flat on their back while jealously lottie didn't know she possessed spread out through her stomach.

"shut the fuck up." jackie nearly growled, she removed her hand from natalie's mouth, only for the blonde to flash a wicked smirk, "make me."

there was more venom packing the words than any other time lottie had heard nat speak them, and yet while jackie's face flushed red, lottie felt the urge to shove jackie off nat and kiss the latter seneless.

she caught nat's eye, the blonde flashing her a familiar look, 'i can stop if you want.' but as much as she was tempted to nod, some part of lottie enjoyed what she was watching. she shook her head, and natalie grinned.

"what's your problem anyway, taylor? i never said you were gay."

"i'm not!"

van's laugh was stifled by tai's elbow-but she was also giggling.

nat's grin only grew, "then how'd you like to stop straddling me, 'cause this looks pretty fuckin' gay to me."

"i wouldn't know if it was gay or not. i'm not gay." but she still flew off natalie like they were suddenly on fire.

now lottie was trying to refrain from giggling, even shauna-who had looked a little like a kicked puppy up to this point-had shaking shoulders and a hand over her mouth. laura lee looked as if she was about to cover her eyes, but also didn’t seem to want to stop watching.

jackie, on the other hand, was bright red and a mix of angry and embarrassed, "seriously just fuck off, scatorccio-i'm not a fucking dyke, i don't like any of that shit."

van flew to their knees before lottie even had a chance to react, "jackie taylor i swear to fucking god-" but the combined hands of taissa and natalie-both of whom looked like they were about to slap jackie to hell and back, pulled van back down.

looking back on it, it was not the smartest choice, or even the best-and god knows lottie could have come up with a better line-but she thought it was clever in the moment, and so with a glance at natalie, then to jackie, "well, maybe your not watching the right shit, here-let me help with that.”

and with that, she pulled natalie back up to their feet and kissed them as hard as they could.

she could feel natalie's hands digging into her t-shirt, always moving, the warmth radiating off of them, and when nat leaned back into a tree, pulling lottie with her, lottie couldn't help but smile into the kiss, nat grinning right back at her.

they broke apart at van's wolf whistle, that was quickly shut off by laura lee's stage whisper of 'van! let them have their moment!'

later that night, curled up under blankets, listening to mari and gen's soft snoring, lottie pulled natalie closer to her.

the blonde was already half asleep, so lottie faced no sarcastic, half-assed protests that would only really lead to nat cuddling closer like she did every night. she only felt the rhythmic rise and fall of nat's chest and their hands wound tightly in lottie's shirt.

"hey nat?"

"hm?"

"i love you."

nat's eyes shot open, bright blue in the moonlight, staring directly into lottie's.

"......"

"you don't have to say it back-"

"do you really mean that?"

it was only her tone that made lottie hesitate. for the first time that night-even after jackie's comments, they understood but it was still out of line, even after it all-this was the first time natalie's voice was anything aside from sure of themself.

to lottie, they sounded scared, terrified that she didn't mean it and that it would all go up in flames.

lottie didn't want to hear that tone from natalie ever again, not if she could help it.

"yeah. yes. of course i do."

relief washed over the blonde, and lottie felt herself smile, grinning like she was in a cheesy romcom.

"i love you, lottie."

[rancidpancakebatter]

Gripe Tape-Chapter 15 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: Peter offers to teach you how to skateboard and who are you to say no? This is a pre-bite fic so we get to enjoy Peter Parker in his full Dorky Display.

Word Count: 2.2k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijuana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying,

( Previous | Chapter List | Next )

Chapter Summary: Your dad picks you up from the party, but what does this mean for you and Peter? A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER! This is so crazy and there is so much I want to say but I don't know how to say it. So, just thank you. All of you :))

You had cleaned yourselves up by the time your father texted you back telling you he was on his way. You shoved your corset and Peter’s boxers into his backpack. You had decided that you wanted the mermaids to swim for longer. Peter had offered you his hoodie, as promised, and you laid with him on the bed. Giggling and sipping on your magic potion. 

“So which do you like better, weed or alcohol?” Peter’s hand was passively passing through your hair, you lay on your side, your head on his chest. You hummed in thought. 

“Well they’re both so different ya know?” you began. He turned to face you and you continued. 

“Weed gets you high and light and…and…fuzzy, but like in a Christmas blanket kinda way.” Peter furrowed his brows trying to decipher your metaphor. He was more of a STEM guy. 

“But alcohol,” You lifted your plastic cup in emphasis, taking a swig. 

“Alcohol makes your muscles lose, it’s warm but in a fire way but not bad. Like a campfire. And you feel heavy, but not like trapped but like a comforter, or heavy blanket. Yeah?” You blinked at Peter, awaiting a response. He busted out laughing and you in turn began giggling too. 

“I think weed is more casual, I think. Like if I had to choose to smoke every day or drink every day I would rather smoke. But drinking is fun too.” Peter agreed with you, kissing you on the forehead, careful not to spill his drink. Your phone began to ring and you jumped. 

“Hey sweetie I’m outside, You and Peter ready?” You told him you were and got ready to leave. Peter put the rest of the Titos in his backpack and you both chugged the rest of your cups. When you opened the door the bass came flooding in once again. Had the music always been this loud?

Peter grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out to the hallway. You left your empty cups on the kitchen counter with a bunch of others, unable to find a trash can. You fought your way through the throng of drunk teenagers before finally reaching your dad’s car. Peter slid across the seats and you entered after him. You greeted your father and then moved Peter’s backpack from the middle seat, where he had set it, with an indignant huff. You buckled yourself and settled into Peter’s side. Your father simply gave you a look before chuckling to himself. 

“What?” You huffed.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, smiling still.

“Dad, What?!” Peter started chuckling too. You smacked him on the arm and he frained a pained ‘ow’. 

Your dad took the aux on the way home and you didn’t complain. You wiggle your fingers to the music while Peter drums his finger against your arm. Moving was fun now. You don’t think you had ever let yourself enjoy the simple pleasure of your muscles moving. You were home before you knew it. 

Your father lead the way into your home as you played hopscotch to the doorstep. When you entered you saw your father had moved the couch and placed a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor. You cheered jumping onto the makeshift bed. 

You father clapped his hands together to grab your fleeting attention. “(F/n) (M/n), Can you hear me?” Your response was muffled but he understood it as a ‘yeah’. 

“Great, I need you to go upstairs and get changed, then come back down here to drink some water.” You started getting up to walk away before turning back with a heavy frown on your face.

“What about Peter? I don’t wanna go alone.” Peter’s face reddened and he refused to make eye contact with your father. Your Pops let out a tired huff before responding. 

“You can do it. Peter will be right downstairs, okay?” You hunched your shoulders in defeat dragging out an ‘okay’ before climbing your way up the stairs. 

Peter watched you unsure what else to do. He was now alone with your father, something he had never really planned for. He heard something scrapping against the tile and turned to see that your dad had pulled out a stool, he patted it signalling for Peter to take a seat. He walked to the cabinets pulling out a glass, then walked to the fridge to fill it up. The house was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the stove, the only sound the running of water. That is until your father spoke up. 

“So, Peter Parker, how was your night?” Peter felt his face flush as he was slid a glass of water. Your father leaned against the island looking into Peter’s eyes. He felt his throat close up. Peter brought the cool glass to his mouth before taking a tentative sip, clearing his throat.

“I had a fun night sir.” He simply said. He tried his best to enunciate despite his drunken lips. 

“What did you do?” Your father’s gaze was unwavering. 

“We, uh,” Peter took another sip, “We danced and talked and uhhh…” Peter took another sip of water, he was blowing this, he knew it. “We got bored, ya know, so we asked to leave.” 

He watched as your father considered his answer, unsure what the man thought. Your pops had so many questions but he knew interrogating a drunk teenager wasn’t the best way to get answers, not morally at least. He had to remind himself several times tonight that he trusted you. You were his child and he had instilled in you all of the wisdom he had, he had to give you the opportunity to use it and grow. Your father didn’t think Peter was being completely truthful but he decided to let it go. 

“Are you two dating?” Peter choked on his water and your father passively passed him a napkin, unphased by the response. Peter felt the warmth of his face spread, rising to his ears, sinking to his neck. 

“Uh, no sir.” You father’s face fell. 

“So then, Mr Parker, what are your intentions with my child?” His voice was level, but there was an edge to it. One he had never heard from your father before, one he didn’t know he was capable of. He had only seen glimpses of Your father around you, he was kind, patient, lovely. Peter truly didn’t think that there was a bad bone in the man he had seen frolic in a corn maze. Peter was so wrapped up in thought he didn’t respond. He wasn’t masking his emotions at all. Your father watched as shock and confusion waxed and waned across the young boy’s features. 

“Look, I think you’re a great kid. You’re smart, you’re nice, you’re respectful. But most importantly, you make (Y/n) happy.” Peter stared at his glass, absorbing everything your dad was saying to him. 

“(Y/n) has been through a lot, it has taken them a lot to get where they are today. I am beyond proud of the person I have raised.” Your father ducked his head to try and catch Peter’s gaze, once he had it he continued. 

“I fear, that they are fragile, though. My child is very fond of you, and has been for a while. I don’t think you fully understand the effect you have on them. (Y/n) would do anything you asked. Be anyone you wanted them to be. So please, I’m begging you, if you don’t have an interest in dating my child, I need you to let her go.” Peter didn’t realise he was crying until he watched as his water rippled. He brought his hand to his face to swipe roughly under his cheek. 

“Mr (L/n), sir, You have to know…” Peter sniffled, trying to collect his thoughts. “You have to know that I care for (Y/n) so much. I would never want them to be anything other than themselves. I just want to make her happy, sir. I would…I would go to war if she asked. I…I really, really, like them.” You father offered the boy a tissue before nodding his head. He turned to make another glass of water. 

“I’m- I’m scared to ask them out. They just seem too perfect. Your child is the single most beautiful human I have ever met, inside and out. I’m lucky to just be in their life let alone to be someone they care about.” Your father remained silent, seemingly in thought, while the sound of trickling water filled the dark space. 

Before they could say anything else your giggles were heard from the hall. Both men turned their heads to see you scooting down the stairs on your butt, one step at a time. Peter giggled and your dad suppressed a smile. 

Your father grabbed your hands once you had reached the end and guided you to your feet, before sending Peter up. “There should be plenty of clothes upstairs you can wear, she steals most of mine anyway.” 

You let out a loud gasp alerting all other parties to your shock. “You knew about that?” 

Your father only chuckled saying, “You notice when half of your clothes are missing.”

Peter trudged up the stairs feeling much more sober than before. The water really helped. Also, probably that very shocking and depressing conversation he had with your dad moments before. He shut the door to your room leaning against it. He couldn’t get your father’s words out of his head. 

What hard times had you been through? Was he talking about your mom? You had never really gone into detail and he never pried. Was there more? He thought for a moment, about how kind you are. About how when Charlie had hurt both of you, you could only seem to focus on his hurt. About how that kind of empathy is often learned, and not in a healthy way. 

Maybe Peter didn’t know you. When he started thinking about it he realised that he never really did. He didn’t know your favourite colour, your favourite book, your favourite movie. He didn’t know how you took your coffee, or if you even drank coffee. He didn’t know if you had any allergies. Were you a cat person or a dog person? Do you call sitting cross legged, ‘criss-cross applesauce’ or ‘pretzel style’ (He doubted you said ‘Indian-Style’ because you were kind and an advocate). 

He made his way to your dresser looking for some comfy pants to wear. In the bottom drawer he found some shorts and sweatpants that he thought would fit. He felt bad going commando in your clothes but there’s no way in hell he’s putting his boxers back on. 

Back downstairs you were collapsed on the pillows and blankets your father had laid out. Your eyes were blinking slowing, trying to stay awake until Peter returned. Your father tried to ask you about your night, how you were feeling, but you didn’t answer him very well. Your father to let it be, knowing you were home and safe. 

Peter made his way down and your father kissed your forehead, saying goodnight. You didn’t see the look your Pops gave him or Peter’s guilty gaze. His stomach felt like gravel, he felt bad even being here. Peter was a good kid, he didn’t often get scolded. Not that your father had done that, exactly. But it didn’t feel good. 

You saw the boy of your affection and you felt warmth run through you. You sat up making grabby hands at him. Peter’s heart paused in its breaking. A small smile graced his lips and he sat next to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck burying your face there too. His legs were folded, making it harder to get much closer. 

Peter melted in your touch. With each pass of your fingers you were tucking pieces of his heart back together. With each soft breath you breathed on his skin you mended sections of his soul. By being nothing but yourself you were healing him, and you didn’t even know. He pushed away the warnings of your father. This, whatever it was, was real. It was raw. It was everything he needed. And he was selfish, unwilling to give it up. 

He guided you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist, and buried his head into your hair. Memorizing all that he could. The groove of your finger pads on his neck. Your fingernails against his scalp. The weight of your body against his. The smell of your shampoo. Your slowed breathing pattern on his skin. 

“Hey” He lifted his head, rubbing your back. You hummed in acknowledgement and Peter continued.

“What do you call this?” You pulled your head away (very reluctantly) with furrowed brows. You looked to see Peter pointing at your legs. 

“Sitting on your lap?” You questioned and Peter chuckled at you before clarifying. 

“No, no, silly. How I’m sitting.” You looked again before you understand. 

“Uh, criss-cross applesauce.” You said with a shrug. 

Peter’s smile grew tenfold and you didn’t quite understand why. But you didn’t complain when he pulled you in again. Peter knew your father was right. You deserved the entire world, and he would do his best to give it to you.

Tag List: @andrews-lovr @cherriescherriesred25 @ilovemoonknight @negasonic-teenage-asshole @preciousbabypeter @princesskittycatofmeowland @rudy-the-winged-wolf @wannapizzamymindposts @whoreforklitz

[terrence-silver]

When Demetri found that article about Terry, the picture of him has short hair. Can you write something about him cutting his hair since that really happened in canon according to the picture? That would be so great since you always have good insights ❤️ Thank you!!!!

― 

-"Did you forget me, man?"-

That familiar voice is there, when on one occasion, year 2001, Terry Silver crops his hair off on an impulse --- not unlike amputating a finger with a kitchen knife. He didn't think he'd hear that voice ever again, clear as a bell. After all, it has been forty years now, give or take. He wanted to leave the past behind. Let it rest in peace. Let this be a good metaphor for new beginnings. But, the very same evening Terry returns from a meeting with Hong Kong at one of his offices and lays his head on the pillow, finding his own scalp strange as if lacking a limb where his wisp of tied hair stood for decades, he's right there beside him. An old friend. Terry's sleeping with the dead. Ponytail's in bed with him. Laying on his side, opposite of him, leaning curiously, smiling with blackened teeth. In his torn green fatigues. His muddy marching boots. Lacking half a skull. The place where the Vietcong's bullet came in and out red and gashing, showing a patch of brain matter, pulsating and fleshy, just like on the day it happened. Terry's tempted to call out to Johnny and tell him, in simple terms, I see him! I'm seeing him again! He's right here! But, Johnny and him weren't on the best of terms. -"Uh-oh, swiggly-arms!"- Is all his friend says initially, teasing, almost sheepishly as he touches Terry's bicep, pinching with mossy fingernails, only to continue;

-"Eyo, Twig! What's this? New hairdo, huh!? Not gonna lie, I hate it."-

Terry employs self control and forces his eyes shut that night. Discipline, he repeats. Never forget disciple. He's been on a prescribed diet of medication strong enough to put down a horse, but it didn't help the way it should've. The way he was promised it would help him. He was still haunted. Still having the strangest side-effects. Pills can't wash away guilt and a broken promise, he tells himself. Weeks pass. Ponytail is everywhere. In limo rides with him. In the tub. Watching him curiously in the reflection of the mirror as Terry goes through his meticulous daily routine, leaning on the ceramic counter --- a ghost smoking a cigarette or chewing a tooth-pick. He's never truly alone. The dead are better, far more devoted companions than the living at times. Weeks turn into months and months into a whole year. Terry always figured he'd wear the hair long for the rest of his life as a way to commemorate a friend. It was a hallowed vow. The only way Ponytail could come back home to America, was through him and him alone --- his body and remains never returned to US soil. He was executed on enemy territory. It was simply too perilous to retrieve his bones for burial and risk losing more soldiers in the process of the covert mission, so the grave his memory was placed in was strictly formal. Entirely empty too.

If Terry wore his hair long, it was so Ponytail could return home.

He was never superstitious, but he believed in the honor of the act.

Honor --- how strange the thought was in his mind.

He felt he had honor; towards people deemed his.

Ponytail was his; Ponytail was him. He was Ponytail now.

Fused as one, if he took on his manner and attitude and way of speech, well, it was so Ponytail can live on, somehow, somewhere. In some shape, way or form. The least Terry could ever do; take him on as a trophy and carry him. -"So, why'd you cut the hair then?"- The vision asks him on one occasion as they lay in bed together, no differently then they did back in the army barracks, bunking side by side. What could Terry answer? It was such a complicated question. There were so many variables. He wanted a new beginning? But, did he? Did he really now? He wanted to be himself? Yet, Terry didn't like any bit of himself that wasn't Ponytail in the first place. Who was he anyway? He wanted to cease being controlled by the past? Who was he without it? Who was Terry without the past? A ship without an anchor, drifting aimlessly in an endless sea. At least a storm would crash him into the rocks and let it be over with. He was nobody in particular, he supposed. Sort of empty. A shell. Borrowing bits and pieces from everyone, changing like a chameleon. Bored of himself and the world. Lacking roots. That hallow thing you reach when you strip every layer of masks. He wanted to cut ties with everything that traumatized him, the way his therapist suggested? So, why did it hurt even more than before then? By it, he meant something acute, inside of him. Terry had no definitive response and he loathed that fact. A man without answers was as good as useless.

It reeked of ignorance.

-"Let me come home, man. This ain't right. C'mon! It ain't funny!"-

Like a sleep paralysis demon, Ponytail hovers over him, grabbing his hands and squeezing with inhuman strength, eyes unnaturally wide and pale and Terry finds he cannot move in the darkness of his own bedroom, overtaken by an astral projection from the beyond, watching Ponytail's perpetually bleeding head wound drip over his forehead, cheek, and down unto Terry's silken pajamas, leaving a dark, rancid stain consisting of black bile and dirty mucus. How long has that wound been bleeding? Decades now? Will it ever stop? -"Let me come home. I don't wanna stay in the friggin' jungle, Twig! C'mon, man! It ain’t fucking fair at all! You all got to come home and I didn’t!"- His dead friend is practically shaking him and begging and Terry feels his own unblinking eyes shed soundless tears as he watches his hallucination unfold in front of him, tangible, real, believable. This wasn't a demon. This was just a boy killed in action who never got to come back the way he and Johnny did. And it was his fault. He was partially responsible for this. He was the reason poor Pony had carrions crawling out of the rotten holes of his nostrils, maggots pultruding out of his mouth, fattened and sickly white, flies buzzing around his scalp like a putrid halo, his lips purple and dry.

-"Don't cry, man, just please, help me."- Ponytail collapses on his chest, hugging him, hands, skeletal and long-nailed digging into the sides of Terry's cropped hair, pulling, and he feels the pain his bones. -"You barely look like me. You've gone grey! What are we going to do!?"- Ponytail shrieks. He's sounding inconsolable and the whole bedroom vibrates. His friend sobs like a literal child.

Terry wakes up the next morning, in cold sweat.

The quietude of his bedroom is stark.

The servers cart in his breakfast and he can't even look at it.

The sunshine peaking through the drapes is agony.

Terry orders that bullshit shut post-haste.

His pajamas are crisp and clean.

No sign of blood.

Terry comes to a decision then, when his assistant offers to help him shave and crop off the few tiny wisps of curled up silver hair at the back of his neck, right before drawing a morning bath and relaying the messages from last night back to him. -"I think I'll leave it. Thank you."- Terry answers from bed, looking off to some spot on the wall. -"I'll let it grow back. The way it was before."- Ponytail keeps returning to his nightmares, but he's quiet.

Present, watching.

By the time Terry's hair is down to his shoulders, he disappears.

Disappears back inside of Terry where he's always been.

They both slumber.

[residentdormouse]

Karma Kicked Out Those Killer ‘K’ Words

Alright @mrsmungus, I want you to know how much you killed me with a few keystrokes. Kindly tell me how I compete with that?!?! Kudos to you. Excuse me while I knock my knucklehead against my keyboard hoping to kickstart my brain.

My Words: Knife, Knee, Knuckle, Kitchen, Kid.

These turned out to be really good words. My characters often fall to their knees, and beat their knuckles against things in frustration. Add in a five year old kid to the supporting cast, and this had a pretty decent selection.

Your Words: Lucky, Linger, Lonely, Loving, Listen

If you want to jump in on this - Please do so - Open Tag for All - Join in the insanity!

Knife

After a deep breath, she continued on. “I don't do all the-" her hand waved about flippantly "...magic, witches, spell bullshit or whatever. I'm the muscle of the group. All natural gifted talent right here. Besides, I’m only stopping by to get our girl back. Your world, sorry to report, still very much hemorrhaging."

Their comments all came at once.

“Hang on a moment…”

"Wait, what?!"

“Are you fucking serious?”

Max shrugged as she gave them another quick glance in the rearview mirror. "You all just pulled the knife out. Taking away the weapon does jack shit to heal the wound. You should know that."

So what did this mean for them? Glen turned to Hayden, and could only watch as a slow realization washed over her features. Clarification wasn’t needed, he knew exactly where her train of thought had gone. Her sacrifice, it may have all been for naught. In that moment, he would have given anything to offer her more comfort. Reassurance. But there was no place for it right now; Harold was already continuing down this new line of logic.

"Well, that metaphor leaves a bigger question. If that fucker was just the knife, who exactly stabbed us in the first place."

Max gave a sly smile as she checked in on him. "Oh, gold star for you sweetheart. Truly." The two shared an unspoken exchange of expressions that neither Hayden nor Glen could miss, but it faded shortly after it appeared. “While I’d love to delve into the shit show that your world is clearly immersed in, I’m still waiting for some clarification here myself. And to be honest, think I’ve been pretty damn patient about it to this point. So spill.”

Knee

“So what seed are you sewing, Randy? Am I a horrible hardened killer not worthy of my group, or a weak little girl failing at my protection gig. Pick a paranoia and stick with it."

She looked down at her hands, and watched the blood disappear. With it came a charge, the familiar feeling rushing in her veins, and it spurred her on. "You want to keep coming here and giving me shit, you go right ahead. But this is my head, I'm in control here, and I'm not buying into your bullshit!"

Oily disappeared, as did the trailer, the cars, the bodies; it was just her and Flagg in the middle of the road. A different road, one with a tall structure in the distance. She had no knowledge of this place, but Flagg looked uncomfortable standing there. The sky clouded over, and lightning struck beside them. Emboldened by change, she pushed another step forward. Another. But then her vision began fading. She took another step, but an unexpected weight pulled her down to her knees.

Laughter echoed as she looked up, and the surroundings faded back to the trailer.

"Everything has a cost, remember; do you really want to burn all your energy for a silly dream? Almost as bad as throwing it away saving dead men." In this moment, he was a shark circling the waters. "See, I'm not planting one seed or the other. You're afraid of who you were, and you're failing at who you are."

Knuckle

(Larger number than I expected, but most are violent with spoilers. I also found a knucklehead in regards to Teddy. Its appropriate (affectionate), I promise, but figured I’d stick to the request.)

It was then that she fully registered the contents of the room they found themselves in. Monitors covered the full back wall showing what she assumed were various locations inside and around the buildings.

“Is that…?”

Nick was already on the move towards the monitor in question. He nodded in reply, and clarification wasn't needed.

So that was their nightmare man.

He wasn't so scary sitting against the glass wall in a small cube similar to the one they arrived in. Whether he was ever let out, or if they just kept him locked in there, she wasn't sure. She didn't know that she cared. Let him rot. Could he rot?

The screen was decently clear, and the small sections of smeared blood on the glass and his knuckles indicated he had been fighting against the containment at some point.

‘So he can bleed too.’

As she finished interpreting the signs, her attention was pulled behind them. At least the heavy metal door was louder than your standard ones, and Steph was immediately alerted that they had company coming.

Kitchen

Upon his return, Glen took one look at their faces and smiled. "The generator was my wife's idea." Digging into the fridge, he pulled out a couple beers and gave an underhand toss to each of them. One more for himself, and he joined the group so they all could pop them open together. Stu held his up as a toast, and Hayden followed the gesture with a laugh.

The liquid caught in her throat, and she tried her best to hide the involuntary nose crinkle that hit her.

Another mental note. She was not a beer drinker. At all.

She took another sip to not seem ungrateful, but at this pace, she would be nursing this all night.

Her attention was drawn back to the kitchen as Glen started clanging pots and pans together, rifling through his cabinets. "Can I give you a hand?"

"No, I can manage just fine, Giggles. Why don't you two go sit down. Looks like you had a rough trek to get here."

She couldn't argue with him. Hell, she couldn't even dispute the new name he gave her, although she wasn't sure how to respond in kind yet. Since meeting Glen and Kojak, she felt a weight lifted. One she hadn't fully realized she was holding. Travelling with Stu was comfortable, but quiet, and the unknown weighed on them. But Glen was carefree; the levity was palpable around him.

Pulling out chairs at the dining room table, she sat down with Stu before Glen jumped back into another line of discussion. "So, how exactly does one not know if they're from the south or not?"

Even a room away didn't stop Glen from continuing conversation. It was only a matter of time until her past, or lack thereof, would be brought up. She knew that. Actually she was surprised it took this long.

Kid

(Hey - throwing in an extra ‘Kitchen’ for good measure.)

"And you aren't the least bit concerned–"

She sat up to cut him off. "Shhh!"

"What–"

"Hadz is over in that room with her lovey dove, Vegas, and Mr. Rockstar. Red and her boy are in the kitchen with the kid. And The-o-dore, if you don't stop squeaking those wheels, I swear to everything holy I'm gonna toss your ass on the ground."

"Hey! It’s just Teddy!"

"Not when you're squeaking those wheels it's not!"

Harold looked around, unable to hear any change, but she was able to relax back against the couch cushions again, smug in the display of power. To an extent, he knew the feeling. When he had a plan, plotting to outplay his opponents, there was a satisfying thrill that came with it. The objectives were questionable, but the feeling… the rush of knowing you’re in control of the situation when everybody else expected nothing from you. Meticulous planning and predicting future moves were his tools to achieve this, but she did it with an ease he could barely comprehend.

"How can you–"

"I hear it all, Harold. One of the perks of being me. There's nothing else moving right now."