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skys-oc-corner · 2 years

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Our Last Summer

Verse: Crown of Thorns- modern au (teenagers)

Pairings: Kate, Letty, Henry and Robert (brotp: my friends are my family)

Words: 820

Tagging: @thatdarnyellowsubmarine

"Last night of the trip," Henry reminded the group, who all reacted with varying degrees of theatrical disappointment. "Favourite part?" he demanded with a grin. "Go."

Letty knew her answer straight away. "The food." Kate took a moment to consider before she decided. "The sights?" Robert flashed a devilish smile before he spoke.

"Letty getting scammed fifty-something for a piece of string on her wrist."

In an instant, Letty's free hand was covering the bracelet tied around her other wrist. "Well, what was I supposed to do? I didn't know what he was doing until half of the thing was made, and when I finally did, I was too anxious to tell him no. Besides, it was too late to say anything anyway-"

"You didn't need to let him take a fifty note from your purse!"

"I thought," she began defending, "that he was going to give me change!"

"He'd have gotten a good piece of my mind if it hadn't taken us so long to realise." Henry took a sip of his drink, as if to make his point.

"He'd have gotten more than words if you three hadn't stopped me running after him," Kate muttered.

"Anyway, at least we let the police know about it, Robert. You just stood there laughing," Letty pointed out.

"What were the police going to do? We had no idea who he was-"

"Henry," Kate called across the table, interrupting Robert, "I've changed my mind."

"Yeah?"

"My favourite part of the trip was Robert thinking a waitress was flirting with him, when really, she was trying to tell him that there was bird shit all down the back of his shirt."

"Fuck." Robert flushed, hissing the curse under his breath while Henry spluttered beside him, having just taken a generous drink from his glass before Kate made her announcement. "I thought you'd all forgotten about that."

"Forget? We couldn't possibly forget." Letty giggled mischievously. "Not when Henry has your whole reaction on camera."

"You have what?" He turned to Henry, who was fighting a losing battle of trying to hold in his laughter. "Why would you- How did you even know to record it?"

"I guess," Henry offered, "you could say that... a little bird told me?" Robert followed his friend's eyes to the other side of the table; Letty was laughing freely, while Kate had fixed a smug grin in his direction. "I think you ought to see it, personally. It's incredible, it really is."

"There's a moment," Letty explained to him through her laughter, "where your face goes from normal to white as a sheet to bright red, all in the space of a couple of seconds!"

"It's a skill, Rob, it really is, and now we have evidence to prove it," Kate teased.

"Well, thankfully, Kate," he returned, pulling himself to be sitting at his full height on the chair, "nobody needs any evidence to remember your... overly inebriated rendition of 'Africa' on karaoke night."

"Oh, he absolutely has you there!" Henry nodded his head, clearly recalling what Kate mostly couldn't. "That was an experience to say the least..."

"I've definitely never been happier I refused one of the microphones," Letty conceded from beside Kate, who huffed a little.

"Come on, it was not that bad-" Henry raised an eyebrow.

"You took off your shirt and threw it at me."

"One, I was wearing a vest underneath. Two, I'm sure you'd rather it be thrown at you than a random stranger in a crowded bar. Besides, everyone else there was enjoying the performance."

"I'm pretty sure they were mostly enjoying the fact you'd just launched your shirt at Henry's head," Robert replied with a smile, finally getting his own little revenge. "You looked about two seconds from crawling across the stage." He considered for a second. "I suppose I should be thankful there's no videos of that. Your dad would find a way to gut me for being the irresponsible one."

"Wait," Letty piped up. "Is Henry the only one of us who hasn't utterly humiliated himself yet?"

"That's both terrifying and completely unfair. I'd expected him to be the first, if I'm honest."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Rob."

"There's still plenty of time at the airport tomorrow," Kate reminded them.

"Speaking of, maybe we should head back to the rooms, get some sleep?" Letty suggested. "Early start and everything."

"One more drink before we do?"

"Henry-"

"Look, once we're home, everyone's packing for universities and we're all probably going to different corners of the country. Let's enjoy being together for as long as we can." With everyone agreed, he signalled a waiter and ordered four shots. When they arrived, all of them took one.

"To our last trip together, until next summer," Henry announced, standing up and holding out his glass, the others followed suit.

"To us," Letty added, and everyone echoed the sentiment.

"To us!"

#oc; katherine #oc; henry #oc; laetitia #oc; robert #brotp; my friends are my family #my characters #cj's characters #my writing #story; summer times (modern teen au)

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itachi86 · 9 months

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lol summer banging on marissa's trailer door "my hand doesn't even remotely hurt"

#the oc #3x19 rewatch #character things #summer roberts #she's so aggressive

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

#pre-steddie #my fic #prompt #sophomore eddie is a jerk #but only because he thinks steves gonna be a jerk first so hes gotta beat him to it #also steves very mean to eddie in his thoughts but its only his thoughts #tw: minor character death #its an oc tho #tw: suicide implied but not stated

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astheskyisblue · 2 years

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Of Sunflowers and Rose Thorns

Chapter Three: Brielle's P.O.V.

Author's note: Hey! I'm sorry about missing last week. Here's chapter three.

Triggers: slight mention of sex (nothing explicit), domestic and parental abuse, more Eating disorder content

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Aunt Meredith didn't look as mad as I thought she would. In fact, she didn't look mad at all. My pulse slowed and I smiled at her. She smiled back.

Mrs. Kipp seemed to be apologizing profusely for my mistake. "I'm so sorry, Meredith. I didn't know. If I'd known I would've had Brielle call you right away!"

Aunt Meredith took a step back, "That's alright. It's better that Brielle is here than out on the streets doing God knows what!"

I flinched at Aunt Meredith's pointed words. "Come here, sweetie! Did you have a good day at school? What classes do you have?"

"I did. I had too many to count. I'm sorry that I made you guys worry auntie."

She wrapped her arms around me. "It's alright, pumpkin. Don't do it ever again."

"I promise that I won't."

"Good. Come on, the others are waiting in the car."

"Alright." We walked out to the car together.

"Oh, Meredith! One more thing!" Mrs. Kipp called after her.

I got into the car to let the adults talk privately.

"Oh,boo. I thought that we had finally gotten rid of you for good." Ariel remarked with her signature eye roll when I sat down between her and Aria. I was the smallest so I always got stuck with the middle seat.

"Hey! That was meannnnn!" I whined.

Ariel shrugged and went back to texting someone on her phone. "I meant it to."

"Who are you texting?"

Ariel moved her phone away. "Mind your own business."

"Okay." I sat back in my chair and was quiet for a moment. "Did you make a new friend? What's highschool like? Is it different than middle school? Is it hard?"

"Why are you asking so many questions? Do you know how not to be annoying?"

"Why do you have to be so mean, Ariel? She's just excited to see you." Aria put in.

I was near tears again. "Gracie, please."

"I've told you to stop calling me that!"

Aria reached over me and snatched Ariel's phone out of her hands.

"What was that for?"

"Do you seriously have to ask? You're being a bitch."

"Well… one of you was an accident!"

I laughed. "How can a person be an accident?"

Ariel looked like she was about to say something else but looked at Aria and decided against it.

Aria glanced at the texts. "Who are you texting anyway? Reese's? Please. I'm going to puke."

"Shut up. Give that back." Ariel tried to get her phone back but Aria yanked it away.

"Apologize."

"Fine. I'm sorry."

Aria handed the phone back and Ariel flipped her off. "Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

"Guys, guys! Will you please stop fighting? Aunt Meredith is coming!"

Aria and Ariel grumbled but leaned back in their seats and went back to texting on their phones.

Aunt Meredith fastened her seat belt and looked in the backseat to make sure that we'd done the same.

"I have some news! But I think that I should wait until we get home so that I can tell Uncle Christopher too…. Actually, I can't wait! I'm too excited! So, you all know, John, right? Who am I kidding, of course you know John. Silly me! I'm sorry! Welllllll, John is my boyfriend now!" I squealed.

"That's great, Brielle! I'm very proud of you. I'd give you the sex talk but we both know John won't be ready for a long time. You better not be ready either!"

She laughed and so I laughed along with her. I felt myself getting flustered. "I won't, Auntie."

Ariel nodded but barely looked up from her phone.

Aria pursed her lips. "Good for you."

My face fell. "Neither of you are happy for me. I can't believe it."

"When did we say that?"

"It's what you didn't say." I crossed my arms over my chest but uncrowded them because the seat belt was choking me.

"Of course they're happy for you. Aria, Ariel, aren't you happy for her? She'll be the first of the three of you to get married!"

"Mhm." Aria sighed.

"Sure." Ariel rolled her eyes.

I pouted. "Why aren't you happy for me?"

"A relationship isn't really a big deal." Aria shrugged, "Are you even mature enough to have one?"

"I am plenty mature!" I huffed.

"Sure you are." Aria patted my head and went back to scrolling through some app.

"We're the same age! If I'm not mature then you're not mature either!"

"I'm older than you, actually." Aria put her nose up in the air.

"By a minute!"

"Shut up. Both of you are literal fetuses."

Aunt Meredith gripped the steering wheel "Ariel Grace Roberts! We do not say shut up in this house!"

"We're not in the house, we're in the car."

"Don't be a smartass. You know what I meant."

"Do I? So, I'm not allowed to say shut up but you're allowed to say smartass? You're a fucking hypocrite."

Aunt Meredith slammed on the brakes and whipped around in her seat. "You know what, give me your phone."

"No!" Ariel hugged her phone to her chest.

Aunt Meredith snapped and slapped Ariel across the face so hard that the red imprint of her hand was left behind.

Aria stared out of the window like nothing had even happened.

Ariel's hazel eyes shone from tears and shock. Aunt Meredith looked shocked herself like she couldn't believe she did that. Maybe it would've believed she was shocked but it wasn't the first time she'd hit Ariel. It had just been the first time it had been hard enough to leave behind a mark.

Shocked silence made time stand still. The light turned green and cars behind us began a symphony of honks. "Well, I bet that you'll never do that again." Aunt Meredith straightened up and started to drive.

"Can I keep my phone?" Ariel asked. Aria snorted.

"Sure. We all tell Christppher that Aria hit her, do you understand?" Aria and I shared a look.

Aunt Mer raised her voice. "I said, do you understand?"

Ariel nodded meekly, her usual strong spirit stolen.

"Yes auntie." I looked at my lap. Whatever happiness that John's lips on mine had given me left. I felt empty. Trapped in the family and in the car.

Aunt Meredith parked the car into our driveway. The three of us couldn't wait to get out. Uncle Christopher waved at us and Bentley, the family dog wagged his tail so hard that it could be used as a propeller. He jumped on me and I scratched behind his ears.

"Hi babyyyy." He licked my cheek and when I giggled he started to lick all over my face. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Ooh! I love you, I love you, I love you. Yes I do. Yes I do!" I kissed his nose. "You're so adorable. Go say hi to Ariel."

Bentley jumped at Ariel, his tail was just a whir of brown air. Ariel scooped him up like he weighed nothing more than a chihuahua. Bentley weighed almost half as much as she did.

Uncle Christopher and Aunt Meredith shared a quick sweet kiss. He looked at her with so much love. It made me feel happy for them but I wondered if my parents had ever been like that. I'd never really gotten a chance to ask about my father. Any time that I brought the topic up, Auntie acted like I hadn't.

I knew vaguely of my mother from memories when I was a little girl. She looked like me, lively and kind. She smelled sweet like vanilla perfume. The perfume I used was the closest I had found to it. A cheap bottle from Claire's. The smell never lasted long. The last memory I had on her was her saying goodbye in a flash of red and blue. I hadn't seen her since. This was my life now. What a beautiful life to have. It had to be better this way.

"Come inside girls, I was about to start on a new S'mores cookies recipe. Do you want to help me with it?"

"Christopher, you know the rules. No dessert or junk food on pageant week."

"Oh come on Mer, one cookie isn't going to- what happened to her face? Ariel, come here." He hugged his daughter Hello. "What happened to your cheek?"

Ariel looked at her mother and gulped. "Aria and I got into a fight."

"Aria, we talked about this. You have to use your words when you're mad. Violence is just not the answer. That won't fly when you're an adult…"

"I know Uncle, I'm sorry."

"Alright… Ariel, let's get you some ice."

"I'm going to go lay down, it's been a long day. My cases didn't go very well. I lost out on money because the other lawyer decided to settle out of court."

"I'll bring you some dinner in a little." He kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"A glass of wine too." Aunt Meredith requested with a hug.

"She didn't say I love you back, did she?" Uncle Christopher asked, crestfallen.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "No, she didn't."

"Maybe she just forgot. That's okay. Let's make cookies."

"But Auntie said we weren't allowed to make cookies! We have a pageant this weekend! What if we look bloated?"

Uncle Christopher sighed, leading us into the kitchen. "Brielle, don't believe that… Mer can be a little too intense. It's good to care about your appearance but she takes it too far sometimes. Don't let her get to you. You are a beautiful girl, all three of you are. Brielle, you are the kindest soul I've ever met and always willing to help someone out. You're an amazing baker too. You cause magic in the kitchen. Ariel, you're confident and speak out for what you believe in. Sure, that can land you into trouble but it can also be what makes you stand out. It can make you a leader. Aria, you're a great listener and you're very smart. You put your heart and soul into your art, a true artist. See? You all are so so so deeply beautiful, inside and out. Don't forget that, please. Please don't forget that. I love you all so much."

"We love you too, Dad."

"Now, who wants to make cookies?" All four of our hands shot up. "Great! Brielle, get the eggs, butter and milk. Aria, flour and Pam. Ariel, chocolate, Nutella and marshmallows. I'll get the dishes and preheat the oven."

Once the ingredients were gathered, we all aproned up. Uncle Christopher in his pink and white, me in my white one covered with soft yellow flowers, Aria in a simple black one she'd splattered with paint, and Ariel with her purple one that was covered with black butterflies she'd ironed on herself.

We all helped each other tie ours and got to work on the cookies. In no time, all of us were laughing and singing along to Lover. I got to choose the music. The kitchen was a beautifully chaotic mess of flour, water, and butter.

Somehow, Nutella had splattered on the cupboard. Everything was bright and happy as I took the first bite of one of our creations. It was delicious! Gooey and sweet enough to make me wonder why I was so worried in the first place. Until, a dark fog rolled into the room. "Aunt Meredith!" I yelped and dropped my cookie.

"What are you guys doing? Why do I smell cookies? Christopher! I told you not to do that!" She smashed her wine glass against the wall and threw the tray of cookies onto the floor.

"Kids, go to your room." Uncle was staring down Auntie like a wild animal.

Aunt Meredith's eyes flashed with pure rage. "Yes, girls. Go to your rooms."

So we all scrambled out of the kitchen. They didn't stop fighting for hours.

#sky's writing #my writing #my fic #my ocs #my original characters #Brielle Summers #Aria Summers #Ariel Roberts #angst #writeblr #original writing #writing

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