#9 months. i tried everything. sometimes she’d respond with a one word answer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dongofthewolf · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Can I request no.9 from the cliché prompts and fake dating au?

Making Amends

Abby Anderson x Reader

Prompts: 9. “There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling” 18. Fake dating au

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hint of angst, Owen and Mel slander (sry I had to)

No pronouns are mentioned for the reader

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: Both tropes are literally my favourite things ever and it was so fun to write so ty for requesting it. It ended up way longer than I intended so uhhh yeah hope you enjoy LOL (esp if you requested it)!!

“What the hell Abby?! Have you been telling people that we’re dating?” You had cornered Abby into a secluded hallway, trapping her against the wall with your finger on her chest accusingly.

There was a flicker of fear in Abby’s eyes as she chewed on her lip nervously. Abby was considerably stronger than you and you probably looked like a mouse trying to intimidate a lion, but you didn’t care.

Abby couldn’t meet your burning gaze, all she replied with was a prolonged “Uhhhhhh”.

“Abigail Anderson, answer me right now or I swear to God-” It was rare for you to whip out her full name. And maybe it was kind of a cheap move, but it was a cheap move that almost always worked.

“Fine!” Abby interrupted, letting out a short sigh and preparing herself for the worst. “I kind of told Owen we were dating and I'm pretty sure he’s been telling other people.”

She said the words as quickly as possible, closing her eyes like a bomb was about to go off. Your reaction wasn't far off to say the least.

“You what? Why the fuck would you tell him we’re dating?” There was venom in your words and Abby flinched just slightly.

You were angry, incredibly so. You and Abby have always been close friends, or more so you had been until she started dating Owen. At first it was small things; cancelling plans or leaving early because she was busy and you completely understood. It’s not like you didn’t want her to hang out with him, and obviously you wanted her to be happy, but eventually it got to a point where she hardly ever spoke to you. Aside from the occasional greetings in the busy stadium, it was like you guys had never even been friends.

Now, after completely ignoring you for the past months, she decided it was a good idea to tell people that you guys were dating? It only seemed right for you to be pissed off.

“I just... Everyone kept looking at me like some sad puppy dog because I broke up with Owen, which normally I can handle. But every single day I kept getting the same sad fucking looks and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told them I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name but they kept prying, and prying and you were the first person that popped into my mind. I’m really sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything at first, instead you looked at Abby without a hint of emotion on your face, and even less in your tone when you did finally speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?”

Abby paused, she didn’t know what response she was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. “I um, I figured you knew. Pretty much everyone in the stadium knows.”

“Yeah well… I didn’t.” You were quiet. A part of you was angry and annoyed, but another part of you pitied Abby. She had never been one to lie, especially about something as petty as this.

Before you could think of something to say, Abby broke the silence. “Listen, I know you probably hate me right now, but I need to ask you a small favour.”

“Seriously?” You nudged Abby’s chest, pushing her into the wall again. The pity quickly dissipated to nothing, leaving you once again with a seething rage.

“Look, I know things between us haven’t been ideal but-“

“Haven’t been ideal?!” You interrupted, the absolute ignorance in her words tipping you off the edge. “Abby, you threw me away like I was trash! We were friends and you left me to hang out with Owen. I didn’t even know you guys broke up because you don��t tell me shit anymore!”

“I’ll do anything Y/N, okay? I’ll do your laundry, clean your room, I’ll even take your shifts for patrols.” Abby’s hands were on your forearms as she spoke. “Please just do this one thing for me and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying you back.” There was sincerity in Abby’s face, a hint of desperation too.

You paused. What could Abby possibly want so badly that she’d be willing to do all this for you? Even though you were angry at her, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit intrigued.

“I’ll do anything Y/N, please. There must be something that you want.” Abby pleaded, absolute seriousness in her eyes.

“What I want is to never see you again.” Your finger was pointed at her chest again, poking her lightly.

Immediately you could see the hurt on Abby’s face. Okay, maybe that was a little bit harsh (and kind of petty) but you weren’t just gonna let Abby off that easily. Not after everything she’s done.

“Fine…” Abby paused to contemplate her next words, wiping the sadness from her face. “Fine, after tonight if you do this thing for me, we’ll never have to see each other again, I promise. I just need you to come to this party with me. We don’t have to talk or hold hands or anything and you can spend the whole night hating me, but I just need you there.”

“I-“ You couldn't do that. You couldn’t just pretend and lie to all of Abby’s friends for a whole night… Could you?

“Please Y/N. It’s embarrassing, okay? When we broke up, Mel immediately jumped in to fill my space. Everyone knew it and I had to pretend like I didn’t care so people would stop treating me like a wounded animal. If they find out I lied about you? I don’t think they’ll ever stop seeing me that way.”

You looked at Abby and felt a tinge of sympathy, she looked so sad and desperate, and for a second you even considered it. One night couldn’t hurt, right? Wait, no.

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to snap yourself out of it. You were not going to give in that easily. Nope. This was Abby, the same girl who threw away your friendship like it was nothing, and you were not going to let her use you like this. Not even while she’s looking at you with those sad, blue eyes. Nope, you’re mad, you’re angry, you’re-

“Fine.” Fuck.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Abby’s eyes lit up as she wrapped her arms around you, lifting you into the air while she let out a breath of relief.

What did you just get yourself into?

—

“I can sleep on the floor, it's really no problem.” Abby offered, there was a slight nervousness in her tone as she stood in front of you shifting her weight on the balls of her feet.

“Abby, that’s stupid. It’s not like I’m infected or something.” You huffed, reaching for the box of matches to light the candle next to you.

Sometime after the party there had been a power outage and the entire WLF base went lights out. Meaning there was no heat and most annoyingly, no lights.

After a night of uncomfortable looks and even more uncomfortable conversations in which you spent most of the party trying to avoid Abby’s friends, she was walking you back to your room when everything suddenly went dark.

The both of you practically crawled to your room before you could locate a light source of some kind. It had been an hour since the power went out and you insisted that Abby sleep in your room, for… safety purposes.

You shook the match till it was out, suddenly you were thankful for impulse buying those candles last week.

“It’s fine, I’ll just crawl halfway across the stadium until I find my room. No biggie.” You couldn’t tell if she was joking, but something in you felt like she would actually do it if you didn’t insist she stay here.

You sighed. “Just sleep here Abs, it’s easier and I’m offering. Plus, I don’t need you army crawling across the entire WLF base. It’s hard on the arms, even for someone as strong as you.”

“You think I’m strong?” Abby smiled teasingly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, looking away as you tried to hide the small grin on your face. God, it was hard to stay mad at Abby.

“Shut up and take the bed.” You could tell Abby was reluctant but she still plopped herself onto your bed. She sat awkwardly on the edge, unsure of how this was going to work.

You tried to ignore Abby’s weird energy as you buried yourself beneath the covers. It took a minute for her to actually lay down in the bed but when she did, she was careful to keep her distance. It was pretty funny (and pretty cute) how unsure she was.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Abby whisper your name softly, almost like she wasn’t sure if you could hear her.

Nuzzling your nose into your pillow you whispered back a small “Yeah?”.

“Thank you.” You could hear the genuity in Abby’s voice, how grateful she was for such a simple act and suddenly it hit you, you didn’t want her to leave you alone. You missed this—missed Abby.

Instead of responding you nudged her foot lightly with yours. It was something you guys had done as kids, like a silent way of saying “I’m here.”. Under the dinner table with the Fireflies or during training when you first joined the WLF; it was an unspoken thing between the both of you. An action that spoke much louder than words possibly could.

The both of you laid on opposite ends of the bed, your backs turned to each other. You shifted under the sheets before finally finding a comfortable position, you fell asleep that night to the steady sound of Abby’s breathing.

—

You were first to wake up, confusion washing over you when you felt your head rising and falling. Why the hell was your pillow moving? Then it hit you; it wasn’t the bed moving, it was Abby. Your head lay resting on Abby’s chest, her arm over your back while your limbs were wrapped around her like a giant stuffed animal. The sound of her beating heart was soft in your ears and you could feel her breath coming out in steady increments, blowing lightly against your head.

You weren’t sure what to do about your compromising position. It was already too late for you to leap out of her arms and a large part of you didn’t want to move anyways. So you decided to pretend to sleep until she woke up. That way you wouldn’t have to decide what to do, she would.

Abby woke up shortly after you, you could tell she was awake by the way her breath hitched in her throat upon noticing how you guys were situated. However, instead of jumping out of the bed in a panic, Abby didn’t move either, and it took everything in you to not open your eyes.

After a few moments of stillness, you almost thought she had fallen back asleep. It wasn’t until you felt a light touch on your temple that you realized she was awake. The touch so light you nearly missed it when Abby brushed a small strand of hair away from your face.

Then slowly, Abby pried you off of her and you nearly let a small groan slip from your lips when you felt the absence of her warmth. She gently rolled you over, covering you with the blanket before walking into the bathroom.

That’s when it happened: the ache. A sharp, jarring ache in your heart that you only felt with her— that you haven’t felt since the two of you were best friends. It had left you when you and Abby stopped talking, but it returned just the same when you witnessed the tenderness of her actions. You never thought to put a name to this feeling (and maybe a part of you didn’t want to), but it was near impossible to ignore it.

You couldn’t possibly be harbouring secret feelings for Abby, right? You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts, it was way too early to be worrying about these things.

Feigning tiredness you rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You knocked on the door and when Abby opened it you noticed she was in the process of redoing her braid.

You leaned against the doorway as you watched her skilled fingers work. “Abs?”

“Hm?” She replied as she tied off the end of her braid.

“I didn’t really mean what I said to you last night… about never wanting to see you again. I’m sorry.” You picked at your thumb anxiously, eyes wandering around the room, looking anywhere but at Abby.

Abby turned to face you, letting the braid fall to her side. “You don’t have to apologize Y/N, I deserve it. I didn’t even hesitate to leave you when Owen and I started dating, and I was-“

“Stupid?” You finished for her, looking up from the floor to meet Abby’s gaze.

“Stupid. And for what it's worth, I’ve really missed hanging out with you Y/N, even if it is under these circumstances.”

“You know… I think I know a way you can make it up to me, if you’re still up for it?” Abby looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you noticed the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

“Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“You see, there’s this guy that’s been trying to ask me out for weeks even though I keep rejecting him.” You gave Abby a tiny grin as you continued. “Well, maybe if he found out I was dating a certain soldier who could pound his ass into the ground, then he’d leave me alone.”

Abby nodded her head nonchalantly as she took a small step towards you, crossing her arms across her chest. “You know what’s crazy? I think I have just the person for you.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #requests #fluff #a little bit angsty #I’m big gay

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halloweenhoneylover · 3 years

Text

serendipity

summary: spencer cannot wait to propose, but you accidentally beat him to it (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5k

warnings: some language! some minor angst!

author’s note: this is 100% based on one of my favorite episodes of new girl (google doc name is winston bishop type shit), also this is mega self-indulgent so if u don’t like dinosaurs and/or ferns i’m sorry :/

You let out a satisfied hum. Everything was quite nearly perfect. Presently, you were sitting on a bench next to the little duck pond in the park by your apartment, and you watched as tendrils of the weeping willow grazed the surface, sending gentle ripples across the water. It seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight. An adorable duck family was nestled into some of the reeds, and your heart was happy as you watched the mother tending to her ducklings. This was your favorite spot in the entire city.

“Hey, Spence?” Your head rested on his shoulder as he read one of the Ray Bradbury novels that he loved dearly. You weren’t sure which one he was on now; he’d been determined to read his entire collection this weekend and had been flying through.

“Yes, dear?” His eyes didn’t leave the pages, but you didn’t mind.

“What do you call a group of ducks?”

“There’s a couple names actually. It can be called a raft, team, or paddling; it’s a matter of preference.” Finally, he shifted his gaze toward you, and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The flush of your cheeks and the wisps of your hair, he was so incredibly enamored, he loved you so much. And he was so excited to let you know so soon, but not quite yet.

“I think I like paddling.”

“Yeah, me too.” Shutting his eyes to revel in this moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you wanna get married?”

What.

Spencer floundered in the absolute contradiction of feelings that he found himself submerged in in that moment. Ice flooded his veins, and his face heated. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and oh God, it’s not supposed to happen like this. Yes, he loves her terribly, and yes, he absolutely wants to marry her, but he had a plan! An incredibly intricate and thoughtful twenty-two step plan that was going to take place over the course of the next month. It was all laid out in an entire binder in his desk. All he could muster in response was an extremely eloquent, “Uh—well, uh—”

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you finally lifted your head to look at him with the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but feel so, so guilty. “I just thought, why not, you know? Spencer, I love you a whole lot, and I’m pretty sure you love me a whole lot too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want the rest of my life to start right now.”

“No.”

Judging by the look on your face, that was clearly not the answer you were expecting. “No?”

“Uh, yeah, no.” God, stupid dumb idiot, telling the girl you want to marry that you don’t want to marry her. What’s the point of having 187 IQ points if you use exactly none of them when it actually matters?

“No, you don’t want to marry me?” Your heart dropped into your stomach and was falling further and further every passing second.

“Wait no, hold on—”

“No, I get it,” you choked out, hastily standing up from the bench. “Actually, I don’t get it, but that doesn’t really matter, I guess.” You jammed your arms into the sleeves of your jacket, so you could get out of this moment as soon as humanly possible. Holy shit, had you been blind-sided. “Um, I think I’m gonna go hang out with Penelope, might spend the night, I’m not sure. Enjoy your book.” And with that, you were speeding down the path out of the park.

“Wait, (Y/N/N)!” Spencer tried to gather his belongings to run after you, but you had a head start, and he couldn’t gather all of the books in his arms fast enough. Leave the books!!! Go after her!!! But you had already turned the corner and were out of sight.

With his books finally secure, Spencer sprinted in the direction of your shared apartment. He needed to fix this. And fast.

———

Morgan sat at his desk peacefully looking over the plans for a house he was renovating when the phone rang, and he couldn't help but internally groan at the sound. If Hotch is calling on his weekend off, so help him God, he would hang up and chuck the phone out the window.

Instead, he was met with Garcia’s voice, which was so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Let’s take it down a few notches.”

“Alright, fine, babycakes,” she hissed, and Derek was shocked at the unfamiliar venom in her tone. “Would you please be so kind as to explain to me why your dear friend Reid is the most evil, most reprehensible, most despicable—”

“Garcia, what are you talking about?”

“You mean that little rat boy hasn’t come crawling to you explaining his crimes?”

Despite his infinite patience for her antics, he sighed quietly. “I’m in the dark, baby girl, but I’m sure whatever Reid did, it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it can be that bad! He told (Y/N) that he didn’t want to marry her.”

“He did what?” Derek’s eyes were practically popping out of his head at the news. There’s no way that happened.

“He said that he didn’t want to marry our precious lily flower (Y/N)! I love that boy, but now, (Y/N) is here bawling her eyes out on my couch, and I don’t know what to do!”

His heart broke a little at the thought of his friend being so devastated, but he couldn’t help the roaring confusion that plagued him. Derek knew that Spencer was planning to propose to you; he’d seen the binder. He’d even been recruited to help with Steps 4, 9, 10, and 18!

Oh.

And that’s when Derek had a sneaking suspicion as to what had occurred. “Penelope, were his exact words ‘I don’t want to marry—” But his attention was drawn away from the phone by a knock on the door.

Speak of the devil….

“Garcia, I gotta go, but tell (Y/N) everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna have a word with our boy.”

“Oh my God, is he there with you?! That little bastard—” He hung up before her words could become any sharper, and the knocking became frantic.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” He jogged to go unlock the door. “You’re gonna knock the door down, kid.”

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, huffing and puffing with a red face and a binder in arm. “Morgan, I am the stupidest man to ever walk the Earth.”

“Did you run here?”

Ignoring the question, he pushed past him with an agitated step. “I am a complete idiot, a dumbass, if you will.”

Morgan shut the door and crossed his arms, walking to stand opposite Reid who had sat on the couch with his head in his hands. “Yeah, I might agree with you on that one. Garcia called me, told me (Y/N) is crying on her couch ‘cause you told her you didn’t want to marry her, which I know is not true.”

“I didn’t say that!” he cried, gesticulating wildly. “Not exactly. She asked me if I wanted to get married—”

“And what did you say?”

His hesitation was palpable. “...No.”

“Yeah, I’d say that constitutes dumbass behavior, especially because I know you only said that because you have your proposal all planned out, and you want it to be perfect.”

“Morgan, you don’t get it,” he implored, the desperation evident in his eyes, and Derek finally started feeling a little bad for the kid, an inkling of sympathy squirming in his gut. “No one deserves the most perfect proposal more than (Y/N). No one. You know how she’s always felt unwanted, and she’s told me that she felt like she always has to ask for love, and I couldn’t let her feel like that with me. I had to make sure that she had a special proposal because she’s special. And I want her to know without having to ask that I want her more than anything else in this world.”

Reid looked down at the toes of his scuffed Converse, hoping that he hadn’t permanently fucked up his best chance at happiness, and Morgan’s expression softened. “I know, kid. And I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, but you do know that this was not the best way of letting her know that she’s wanted and loved?”

“Yes, I know, Morgan,” he muttered, voice breaking around the slug in his throat. “I wasn’t thinking.”

A sigh. “No, you weren’t. But I’m gonna help you fix it.”

Reid looked up with wide eyes. “Really?”

“You both deserve to be happy...even if you make some pretty stupid choices sometimes.”

Reid didn’t think he’d ever felt so grateful for his friend, and he offered a smile in gratitude. “Thanks. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Quirking an eyebrow and returning with a grin, Morgan picked up the binder from the table where it had been set. “I’ve got a couple ideas.”

———

“How is she doing?”

“Erm, it’s not looking great,” Garcia responded.

She was openly hostile when Reid had called her (he’d never been on the receiving end of Garcia’s wrath (so few people had been), and he was sure that was something he never wanted to experience again), but she’d finally restrained herself and offered a little empathy (not a lot though, she was too loyal to (Y/N) for that) when he had explained himself. However, when she’d been informed of the plan to apologize, regain your love and trust and to maybe, just maybe, ask for your hand in marriage, she had wholeheartedly avowed her support and pledged her help despite still being a little miffed at boy genius’ idiocy.

“She’s been sitting on the floor of the bathroom for an hour listening to Landslide on repeat and crying, so I would say she’s, um…not well.”

Spencer winced at that, and he felt physically sick at the thought that you were hurting because of him. His heart clenched unbearably, and he wished so badly that he could take back his words and just say yes, but unfortunately for him, time is linear, and he was just going to have to do his best to fix things.

“I just need a couple more hours to get everything ready.”

“Well, hurry up, pretty boy! I love our girl immensely, but if I have to hear Stevie Nicks mourn the passage of time and love one more time, I will lose my mind.”

“Garcia, please, just be patient.”

She groaned. “You’re lucky I love you.” And with that, she hung up.

———

You huffed a sigh, clutching to your chest a shiny pink pillow covered in sequins and giving Garcia the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. “Please, Penny, let’s not go out to dinner. Let’s just stay in and order Cheesecake Factory; you love Cheesecake Factory!”

“You’re right I do, but I love you more, and right now, you need to get up and get some fresh air!” The almost excessive amount of peppiness in her voice and her refusal of Cheesecake Factory was slightly suspicious, but you didn’t really have time to consider it as she dragged you up off the couch and to the door.

“Okay, counterpoint: what if you went out for dinner, and I stayed in and wallowed in self-pity?”

By the look on her face, you knew your evading tactics were not going to fly. She tutted slightly and said, “You’ve got to know I can’t let you do that. I’m legally obligated to stay with you until you feel better, that’s the deal when you’re friends with me.” She grabbed your coat, holding it open for you.

Reluctantly, you sighed and slid your arms in, grumbling, “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, but let’s get a move on!” And with that, she herded you out the door.

———

It was a nice dinner, the two of you out on the town, and for a while, you were granted the solace of distraction. Garcia took you into the city, and somehow it felt a little easier to breathe there under the streetlights amidst a bustling Saturday night crowd. You nestled together in some street corner diner, ordering an absurd amount of food and jabbering on about anything and everything. If she noticed the moments when you fell silent, eyes distant and glassy, (and she definitely did), she never said anything; she just offered a new topic and redirected you from the very sad place that was thoughts of Spencer. And you would latch on eagerly, seizing the opportunity to forget.

So, you spent the evening with late night waffles and french fries and milkshakes and the unending source of cheer that was Penelope Garcia, and by the end of it, your mind didn’t immediately redirect to that morning’s tragedy, which Garcia would define as a success. Together, you found your way back to her car, and you tumbled into the passenger seat, your eyelids immediately fluttering shut. Penelope grinned and drove off.

When you woke again, you were engulfed in bewilderment and not just the regular post-nap disorientation. “Penny, why are we at the National Mall? This is the opposite direction of your house.”

She tapped her acrylics on the steering wheel and nervously surveyed the street in front of her, trying to escape your prying gaze. “Uh—no reason!”

Too exhausted from your day of grief and distraction to be suspicious of her terrible lying, you leaned your head back against the seat, watching the glow of the streetlamps as they roved over the interior of the car.

Garcia seized this movement to set the next part of Reid’s plan in motion. “Hey! You know, what’d be fun is if we went to the Natural History museum! There’s nothing better to cheer you up than dusty old dinosaur bones.” (She didn’t necessarily understand the appeal, but she was trying her best.)

A small chuckle escaped you. “As much as I’d love that, it closed at nine, so we wouldn’t even be able to get in anyway.”

Garcia’s mind thundered furiously as she tried to come up with some way to get you in that freaking building. “Let’s just walk past! Take a peek through the windows, see what we can see!”

Something in you sensed that she wasn’t going to let this go, so you relented as she finagled some sort of street parking that was definitely illegal. You could barely get your seatbelt off before she was dragging you the stone steps, the massive corinthian columns looming. You squeaked a quick Penelope! and tried to keep up. Entirely ready to give up and head back to the car when she tried the door, your mouth fell open in shock when it gave way with ease.

“Oh, look! It’s open! Let’s go inside.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond before she was ducking in the building, and you followed, completely and utterly baffled. Stumbling into the atrium, you were met by a receptionist at the desk. She smiled warmly, “Miss (Y/L/N), I presume?”

You nodded slowly before turning to Garcia whose devious smirk was undeniable. “Penny, what is going on?”

She grabbed your hands and looked at you with tears in her eyes. (Where the hell did those come from?) “Just remember that you’re a very forgiving person, and that sometimes the smartest of us can also be the most stupid.”

Furrowing your brows at that slightly cryptic message, you went to respond when the receptionist stood and said, “If you would, miss, please follow me.”

And so you walked with this stranger through the empty halls, the click of her heels echoing. It was odd to see a space that was normally flushed with people completely empty, and you studied the walls as you walked. “Um, may I ask what’s going on?”

The receptionist grinned, “I’m sorry, but I’m under strict instructions from Dr. Reid to not reveal anything.”

Strict instructions from Dr. Reid. You gasped a little at that, and your thoughts raged with possibilities of what Spencer could possibly have planned. If this was an elaborate attempt at an apology, you were a little overwhelmed; the little dispute this morning absolutely did not necessitate a response of this degree. Sure, you were disappointed, and you needed time to deal with it away from him, but you weren’t mad at him, not really. You had talked about marriage and knew that it was something you both wanted, but you had never discussed when. If he wasn’t ready to marry you quite yet, that was fine; you’d adjust. You were pretty sure you’d wait a whole lifetime for him. Besides, you had sprung it on him quite abruptly, and you knew Spencer and that he was not always well-equipped to deal with monumental change, and how could you blame him for that? You’d wait as long as he needed.

“Here we are!”

Her words broke you from your thoughts, and you looked up to realize you were at the Hall of Fossils. (You had always been fond of the dinosaurs.) Glancing at the girl, you asked, “What do I do now?”

She laughed a little at that. “Just go inside. Take a look around.” And with that, she turned around, leaving you to wander the exhibit.

So you ambled easily through the prehistoric relics and fossilized memories of a past Earth. It was rather haunting, the eerie silence and the illuminated dinosaur skeletons. You peered down at one of the explanatory plaques and instead found a blue post-it note. COLD. A grin wormed its way onto your face, and you jogged a little to the next plaque. GREENHOUSE GASES—WARMER. Spencer was always one for a game. So you zig-zagged through, collecting post-its. GLACIAL PERIOD—COLDER. CRETACEOUS WARMING. EOCENE KIND OF HOT!

With the last note, you looked up and gasped yet again. Spencer was standing in a sea of different plants and flowers placed throughout the central clearing, and donning his signature tight-lipped smile and your favorite of his cardigans, he gave you a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Your response was breathless, and now that you had met his eyes, you couldn’t tear yours away. A weight lifted from your lungs, it was such a relief to see him, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed him in the hours you spent apart until you could breathe properly again. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He chuckled at that, but the tension in his shoulders never released; he was clearly anxious, but for what reason, it was hard to say.

An amusing gleam in his eye, he replied, “Same to you.”

“How did you get into the museum after hours?”

He took the moment to examine the toes of his shoes, replying delicately, “I have friends in high places.”

“Ah, Dr. Reid, I always forget that you ruled the world of academia before your time fighting crime.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”

You gave him a tender smile, and his racing heartbeat eased ever so slightly, you just had that kind of effect on him. “Well,” you began, “I remember you were wearing that cardigan, the one that I love, and I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out—”

“I was definitely more nervous. I was so anxious I forgot who Carl Sagan was at one point.”

“I’d forgotten about that!” You giggled at the memory. “But I remember being in this room, and we were making stupid dinosaur puns, and I believe I told you that you are dino-mite….”

He nodded meekly with a subdued grin. “I think that was the moment I fell in love with you.” Meeting his eyes once again, you felt the wind knocked out of you. The utter honesty you found radiating from his soft golden irises hurt your heart, and it was impossible to not believe him. He fell in love on the first date, how sweet and lovely and perfectly Spencer is that?

You took a breath and began to walk closer, skimming a hand over the lush greenery around you. “You know, the last time I was here, I didn’t remember there being so much flora.”

As if he had forgotten the miniature forest that surrounded him, he surveyed the plants surrounding him. There was a sea of succulents and ferns and honeysuckle and peonies and almost every other plant under the sun. “Yes, they’re a new addition. And if I recall correctly, it seems that lots of your favorites have made an appearance.”

“It does appear that way.”

He reached out to gently lift one strand of a nearby fern. “I believe you’ve mentioned before that you would ‘take a fern over a flower any day of the week.’”

“That would explain why they seem to be taking over the windowsills of our apartment.”

“True. Did you know that in the Victorian floriography, the fern represented sincerity and humility? So maybe if somebody had made a stupid mistake and they were trying to let someone know that they were really sorry, they might give a fern to say that they know they were being an idiot and they felt really bad for what they did.”

You laughed airily, “No, I was not aware of that fact.”

He closed the gap between you, reaching to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear. He simultaneously managed to pull a small bouquet of purple-ish flowers from thin air, causing more laughter to bubble from you. The laughing is a good sign, he thought, grinning. Keep going! “To really drive the point home, they might also give some columbine which represents foolishness.”

You looked up at him, your expression bright. “Oh man, this guy feels really bad.”

“Yeah,” he agreed before his words took a more somber cadence. “Yeah, he does.”

Your face softened. “Spence—”

“Um, before you say anything else, (Y/N), I just need to let you know how sorry I am for this morning. I love you so, so much, and I never want you to doubt that, and—”

“Spencer, slow down. Really, it’s okay! I’m not mad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not angry with me, but it’s not okay because you still deserve an apology. A good apology. So,” he took a deep breath, “I am so very sorry for my actions and for letting you think for even a second that you’re not the most important thing in my life, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I want to marry you when you asked because I do. I really, really do.”

Something warm and elated simmered in your stomach, and you beamed at him. “I’m glad because I wanna marry you too.” But before you could get too caught up in the moment, you remembered your earlier thoughts. “I don’t want to push you in any way, though, or make you commit to anything before you’re ready because marriage is kind of a big deal, and I’m happy to wait. Spencer Reid, I’d wait for you forever.”

“I don’t want to wait.” He shook his head and began digging in his pocket.

Your eyes widened in shock and spluttered, “Spence, seriously, if you’re not ready—”

“I am ready.” Finally, he found it and pulled out a small velvet box, looking you dead in the eye. “(Y/N/N), I have been planning this for so long because I wanted it to be perfect for you. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and I wanted to give that to you.”

His admission gave you pause. “Wait, you’ve had this planned?”

“I’ve been planning this for months! This isn’t me trying to fumble around and fix my mistake. I have a binder and everything, you can ask Derek. That’s the only reason I said no!”

“You said no because you had a binder for your proposal plan?” you teased.

You both broke out into laughter at that.

Recovering his breath and trying to suppress his ever-growing grin, he said, “No, that’s not why. The only reason I said no earlier is because I needed to show you how much I wanted to say yes. You deserve the best, you deserve every star in the sky and every beautiful thing on this earth, and I wanted to make sure I gave that to you when we decided to spend the rest of our lives together because I want to be enough for you.” Trying to swallow around the slug in his throat, he continued, voice breaking slightly. “This is me giving you all the love I have to offer. You’re it for me, (Y/N). And frankly, I don’t want to spend another second without you.”

He settled on one knee and opened the box, looking up at you with the gentlest gaze and a pounding heart. The wetness of your eyes matched his, and you gave him a watery smile. “I’m saying yes now. I would really, really like to marry you, (Y/N/N), if you’ll still have me.”

“Of course, you absolute dork.” Yanking him up from the ground and grinning like a madman, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for the messiest kiss. He clutched your waist and held you as close as he could possibly manage. (His desire to never be parted seemed to be coming to fruition in the sort of melding of bodies that was occurring.) Clashing teeth and knocking noses, it was hard to settle things when neither of you could stop beaming. Overwhelmed by the complete and utter joy bubbling up in his chest, Spencer hugged you tightly before spinning you in a circle, both of you devolving into boisterous giggles.

“Wait,” he murmured. “I forgot to give you the ring, I still need to seal the deal!” To which, you responded with another peal of laughter (something he thought he would never tire of hearing), as his trembling fingers floundered for the ring.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I’ll take it either way.”

He finally secured, and taking your hand in his ever so gently tenderly, he slid a glimmering emerald on your finger.

“Oh, Spencer, it’s beautiful.” He let out a sigh of relief. With light confusion, you asked, “What’s the sigh for, handsome?”

“I know you wanted a special ring, but when I went ring shopping with Derek, there was nothing I thought you’d like, so I special-ordered one from this shop that was going to be your size and everything, but that ring wasn’t going to be ready for a couple weeks. So today, when I knew I had to propose tonight, I ran to that vintage store you love and came across this one, and I thought you’d like it, but I wasn’t sure it was gonna fit, and—”

“I love it,” you looked at him, trying to will him to understand the depth of your sincerity. “And it fits perfectly!”

“How serendipitous.” He thought his face was going to split in half, he was smiling so wide. He couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your finger. How could one silly little rock make tears well in his eyes? Nonetheless, the sight of it made his heart race and his stomach churn with unrepentant butterflies because looking at it, he knew the girl he loved more than anything else on the planet, his favorite person had chosen to spend the rest of her life listening to his rambles and laughing at his jokes and sitting next to him by the pond in the park. The listless dream that had seemed so hopeless and romantic finally came to fruition in that shiny green stone, so no, he would not stop staring.

“Indeed,” you mused, subtle and irresistible risibility fizzing in the silence that followed. You contemplated for a moment before asking, “What do we do now?”

A thoughtful frown graced his lips, and then he shrugged. “We have the museum until midnight. We could just wander for a bit.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and you tugged on his sleeve, your excitement palpable. “I’ve always wanted to be in a museum when no one’s around at night! Oh my god, Spencer, it’s just like Night at the Museum!”

He quirked a brow, and a sly smirk turned up the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean I have to protect you when the dinosaur skeletons come to life?”

You scoffed, “Please, we both know that I’d be the one protecting you.”

Another devolution into giggling. It seemed to be your thing tonight.

“Fair enough.”

“Also, do we get to keep all of these plants?” His eyes remained glued to your flushed face as you peered around the room. He wasn’t ashamed to admit just how besotted he was, shamelessly beaming at his fiancée.

“I bought them for you, so yeah.”

“Sick! Our apartment’s gonna turn into a little greenhouse!”

He extended a crooked arm to you, to which you looped yours in his and proceeded to set off on your museum adventure. You learned your head on his shoulder as you walked, completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

“Hey, Spence?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you very much.”

“I love you too, dear.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #anyone else obsessed with winston bishop?#i'd die for him #also can anyone tell that my fav literary device is polysyndeton #bc i feel like i use it way too often :/#actually i don't care!#bc i love it #also i counted three allusions in this bad boy if u find them all u get extra credit :)#jkjkjkjk #i hope all of the three people awake rn enjoy this

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quietlyimplode · 3 years

Note

drugged + (Do you write Laura?). Maybe Clint and Nat came back from a mission and although Nat seemed okay, Laura finds her during the night not doing so well.

Hello Anon! Thanks for sending this one through. This was supposed to be a drabble that turned into 1800 words so uhh thanks?

Also @paperairplanesopenwindows this was completey written with you in mind. I hope the rest of the month is kinder.

Kind Words.

Laura drys her hands and smiles at the now familiar sounds of the quinjet landing. Clint’s home. And if she’s very lucky, Natasha will be here too. She stands at the door with Cooper in her arms, his squashy baby face outwards on the baby carrier, his arms and legs free. Clint has been trying to make it home more to see him grow, she knows he’ll be devastated if he misses milestones, but as she’d confessed to Natasha, he was missing them anyway.

She walks out on the driveway, and down the stairs, watching as Clint appears down the ramp, Natasha trailing behind him. They’re both smiling, which she takes as a good sign. She frowns in the sunlight and thinks it may have been the trick of the light to see Natasha suck in a big breath, because when she looks again, nothing is wrong.

They greet each other with hugs and kisses and she passes Cooper across to the two of them, stretching her back and sitting down for the first time that day.

It’s a quiet affair, their homecoming, and she thinks she likes it better that way. She ruffles Clint’s hair; tells him he needs a shower as he pouts and asks her to join him. Laura concedes as Natasha offers to take the baby, the first shower she’s had baby-less in almost six weeks. It’s bliss.

She’s quiet as she heads downstairs, and finds Natasha staring. Not just lost in her own world, but it takes three goes of her name to get her attention. Laura frowns again. That is not at all like Natasha, who always at least acknowledges her on the first. She’s been able to get Cooper to sleep, and Laura smiles, wiping the concern off her face, tells her she’s magic and offers her some tea.

Natasha watches and they lapse into easy conversation, the goings on of the farm, the chickens and horse, right down to the vegetables Laura has been growing. She hopes this is a safe place for Natasha, that she doesn’t have to hide anything, because Laura distinctly gets the feeling that’s what’s happening.

She presents Natasha with the tea, Clint checking in on them before heading out into the garden, there’s nothing like seeing the land rather than just hearing about it. She talks softly to Clint, asking him to much out the chicken coops even though it’s almost 5pm, it’s a small job that will help in the long run. He pouts and kisses her telling her he’ll be an hour.

Laura returns to her chair, finding Natasha gone but the steaming mug of tea still there. Laura sighs. Nothing like a ninja assassin in her midst. She picks up her phone and scrolls through it, losing time on stupid things but liking the abstract company whilst the baby sleeps.

When she realises it’s almost hit 6pm, concern for Natasha sends a cold shiver down her back, unsure whether to go look for her or let her be. She has no idea how long it’s been since she’s had time to herself, and she doesn’t want to ruin that if all she has had lately is people around her.

Making a decision to start dinner instead, she sets the mince on the stove and spaghetti in the saucepan and makes an easy dinner that she knows both of them love. Cooper wakes with a cry and snort and she pulls him into the high chair, feeding him like normal; just the two of them. Clint wanders in as the spaghetti finishes and they move around the kitchen with practiced ease, finishing cooking dinner and providing simple entertainment that only babies like.

They share a look when Natasha doesn’t appear for dinner and Laura asks if there’s anything she should know. Clint shrugs and shakes his head, making Laura frown. Twice in the six hours they’ve been back, she’s seen Natasha space out and that just when she’s been in the same room, now she’s been missing for almost three hours, she just wants to know she’s ok.

Stomping up the stairs and leaving Clint to have some floor time with Cooper, she checks the bedrooms and the upstairs space, not finding Natasha anywhere. Nervousness curls in her guts as she sends a message to her, and hears the vibration of a phone in Natasha’s room. Poking her head in again she sees the phone on the nightstand.

Laura hurries back down stairs and tells Clint she’s missing. She could be lost, cold or passed out from an untold injury, for all Laura knows. Clint laughs it off and says she’s fine, she probably just gone for a run. He maintains that nothing has happened in any mission over the past two weeks that would make Natasha on edge or even remotely triggered. He says it with such conviction that it makes Laura go from frantic to pissed off in a matter of seconds as she moves outside, the cold air hitting her making her wish she had a coat.

She tries the chickens first, and then the barn. With no luck she looks around the farm in twilight and spies the light of the quinjet door.

She calls out, hoping that it’s nothing like Clint said. She doesn’t think so though. Sometimes, he just doesn’t understand. Sometimes it needed to be Laura.

There’s no response as she makes her way inside, as she navigates to the cockpit, she finds Natasha curled in the seat, asleep.

Laura smiles. She sits down next to her on the other chair and sends Clint a message she’ll be here if he needs any help with Cooper. He sends a thumbs up back and she rolls her eyes.

A little after 9, Natasha shifts in her chair and looks over to Laura whos sharp eyes are watching her every movement.

“Hey.” She says, softly. Natasha lips curl up in a smile that doesn’t even touch any of her other features.

“What’s wrong Nat?” She asks, before anything else can be said.

Natasha turns away and has her face schooled when she turns again.

“Nothing.” She replies.

Laura looks at her, piecing eyes break through Natasha’s now glassy ones, unaccustomed to being the one under this much scrutiny.

“Did something happen?” Laura asks, ready to play twenty questions.

“No?” Laura’s eyesbrows raise around the negative answer that’s clearly positive. “Yes?”

Natasha drops her head into her hands.

“Nothing happened.” Natasha groans. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Laura doesn’t respond. There’s a sadness or maybe frustration that’s oozing from Natasha. She knows she’s asking the wrong questions.

“Did Clint do something?” She loves her husband but sometimes he is an idiot. She doesn’t think he’d do anything deliberately, but she knows that Natasha’s head can be a minefield, and so a small part of her wonders if this separation from him in the house is Natasha’s way of getting space from him and trying to work it out in her own. She knows she’s close to the mark as Natasha closes her eyes and tips her head back, pushing it against the headrest.

“What did he do?” She asks quietly.

Natasha doesn’t respond but keeps her eyes closed. A tear slips out to which she furiously wipes away.

“Nothing.” She gets out with a stuttering huff.

“Hey,” Laura reaches over and grabs Natasha hand. “If he’s done something, anything, you can say it. It’s ok,” she squeezes her hand. “Ok?”

Natasha shakes her head.

“It’s not him. It’s me. It’s always me.” The hand not holding Laura’s hand comes up and covers her face.

Laura’s heart breaks for her, she keeps hold of her hand and squeezes it again.

“Hey.”

When she doesn’t get a response, she gently pulls the arm away.

“Hey. This is not on you. If there’s something he did, he needs to know not to do it again, yeah? If it hurts, if it hits hard, it’s important?”

Natasha is silent, perhaps contemplating Laura’s words.

“It’s stupid.” She whispers. “Please don’t tell him.”

Laura rubs her her thumb over Natasha’s knuckles.

“It’s not stupid.” She assures.

“He yelled.” Natasha admits. “He was yelling at Peter and Wanda for doing something stupid, I don’t even know what,” she exhales deep, “and it just sent me back. Yelling always lead to pain, and I don’t… didn’t want that for them. I can’t stop thinking about it, and when I do I get stuck.” Natasha finally looks over to Laura.

“It’s not his fault. He wasn’t wrong.” And then quieter. “Please don’t tell him.”

Laura isn’t really sure what to do.

She’s not sure if Clint has realised. Feels that he would have said something if he felt she was off. He hadn’t known. Natasha is far too good at hiding her feelings and she never wants her to feel like she has to do that here. Whether it be with her or Clint, she wants her to be able to say something.

“I’m not going to say anything.” She whispers.

Natasha looks at her, face blanked.

Laura continues, “Nat, your triggers are nothing to be ashamed of, the fact that you’ve survived all that you have is a miracle and amazing in itself and I am so so glad you are here. Sometimes though, you need to say something, and not battle through yourself. If you don’t want to tell Clint, you can always come to me.” She squeezes her hand again.

“Ok?”

Natasha nods. Laura’s sure her words are lost, and shame is overriding everything, but the words bare saying.

“Do you wanna come in or do you wanna stay here?”

Natasha shrugs.

“I have to go out Cooper to bed, but if you choose to stay here I’ll come back with blankets and some food. If you wanna come in, the house is warm and there’s food ready.”

She kisses Natasha’s hand, and as she leaves, she feels Natasha follow behind her.

She slows her pace and they walk comfortably back to the house.

“Thanks.” Natasha says, over the crickets.

Laura opens the door for her and smiles.

“Hey. Sometimes you just need to talk it out right?”

Natasha nods, there’s still an air of sadness around her but she seems more out together than when she’d left Laura alone with the cup of tea.

They don’t say anything as they find Clint wrestling Cooper in his onesie. Laura laughs.

“I can help.” She says, relieving him and tag teaming out. She puts the TV on and points to the food on the table, giving Natasha something to do away from where Clint is.

She hands Cooper back to Clint and sends them off to bed. “Good luck,” she grins, hugging them both.

“She ok?” Clint whispers as he holds her close. Laura nods her head into him.

The night ends quietly, with Clint snoring on the couch, and Natasha watching television, some balance restored.

#blackwidowfest2021 #clint/nat/laura #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #laura barton #my fic #ask away #marvel fic #prompt fic #to all the people who have sent in fic requests #thanks so much :)#heads up they’re probs not all gonna be this long #this has not been proof read #I just wanna go to bed #sooo I’ll reread it in the morning and correct from there

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rhyrhy462 · 4 years

Text

Sleepover (G.D.)

Pairing: grayson dolan x best friend!reader

Warnings: bad writing, pining, one swear word, semi-sappines, self-indulgent because of the big mouth thing and the snacks

gif by @pinof

Everyone knew that Grayson Dolan went to bed early. It never failed that he was turning his phone off and putting it on his nightstand at midnight.

His best friend, Y/N, was a night owl. She went to bed at 3 in the morning most of the time.

Grayson and Y/N tried to squeeze in sleepovers whenever they could. These usually happened on Friday nights and consisted of, in no particular order, eating dinner, watching a movie, begging Grayson to take you to a grocery store to buy snacks, listening to music, begging Grayson to get you ice cream, and sleeping.

So just like all the other Friday nights, Y/N knocked on Grayson and Ethan’s door at exactly 6:53pm. She knows it’s a very specific time, but Grayson always has dinner ready by 7:05. So if she gets there at the perfect time, dinner will be ready and Grayson can’t yell at her for getting there too early when she complains about being hungry.

“It’s open, Y/N” Grayson yelled through the door, right as she was turning the knob and pushing the door in.

“I don’t even get a hello? I brought you homemade almond butter and everything!” If there was one thing Grayson loved in this world, it was Y/N’s homemade almond butter. He knew she just got the recipe online, but every time he tried to make it, it just didn’t turn out the right way.

“I’m sorry babe. Come give me a hug” Y/N felt her heart flutter when he called her ‘babe.’ Yeah, they called each other pet names all the time, but he said it so casually, almost as if she was his girl-

“Come gimme a hug.” Grayson pressed again, just as she started walking towards him.

She wrapped her arms around him, just as he wrapped one arm around her, still pushing around vegetables in a pan. “I missed you.”

Y/N and Grayson hadn’t had a sleepover in about a month and a half. They had both been busy. Whenever they did get to see each other, it’d be for an hour or so, but they never got to have fun with each other. “Missed you more.” Grayson replied, right as he was dumping the vegan stir-fry onto their plates.

“Looks good.” She said, as she started putting dishes in the dishwasher. If Y/N hated anything, it was having to do the dishes after she’s gotten comfortable. Lucky for her, Grayson had listened to her and started putting dishes in the dishwasher as he went along instead of having 30 dishes in the sink. She put the five dishes that had been left in the dishwasher, picked up her plate, and looked at Grayson questioningly. She was silently asking him if he was ready to go eat in his room.

“Let’s go.” Was all Grayson had to say to have her following him to his room.

Once they made it to Grayson’s room, Y/N plopped down onto his bed as he picked up the remote from his desk and tossed it to her. Every sleepover they alternated who got to choose what they watched. This time, it was Y/N’s turn. She turned his tv on and went straight to Netflix. Grayson had a feeling he knew what she was gonna pick. She threatened him with it all the time, but she did actually want to rewatch the show.

Grayson groaned as soon as he saw that she was hovering on Big Mouth. “What’s wrong with Big Mouth?” She genuinely wanted to know his answer.

“You’ve seen it at least ten times and you quote the whole show.” Grayson complained. He wasn’t wrong though. Y/N knew Big Mouth like the back of her hand. The reason why she watched it so many times was so she could directly quote the show. She already knew most of the iconic lines, but there were some she was still trying to learn.

“It’s my night to choose, babes. I hate to break it to ya, but I choose Big Mouth.” She said, just as she clicked on Season 1, Episode 2 ‘Everybody Bleeds.’ It was one of her favorite episodes because it was funny, but also because she knew the quotes. It was also the first episode Ladybug appeared in. If Y/N was honest, Ladybug was probably her favorite character. Ladybug was also the only character that she could completely quote.

With food in hand, she got as close to Grayson as humanly possible, just as he was draping a blanket over both of their legs. They ate while they exchanged jokes and talked about how’d they’d been, all while Y/N still managed to quote the best lines from Big Mouth.

They had finished eating a while ago. Now it was 9pm and Y/N wanted snacks. From their cuddled up position, she looked up at him, to see him looking at the screen. She smiled to herself because as much as he hated to admit it, Grayson thought Big Mouth was hilarious. “Gray?” She questioned, because yes, they had had dinner two hours ago, but she was ready for snacks.

He didn’t even have to look at her to know what she wanted. The first thing he did was look at his watch to confirm what time it was. It never failed. Around 9 o’clock, Y/N always wanted snacks. So he untangled himself from her and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes darting around the room trying to find something that Y/N is completely unaware of. “Grayson? What are you looking for? Where are you going?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m looking for two hoodies. You want to go get snacks don’t you?” Grayson said, realizing that none of his hoodies were anywhere in his room and he’d have to go into his closet.

“You know me so well.” She said, grinning when Grayson came out of his closet, two hoodies in hand, and tossed one to her.

Right after she slipped it on, on top of her shirt, Grayson was asking her, “Ready?”

He didn’t even wait for her response, just started walking towards his bedroom door, to which she followed right behind him, all the way to the Porsche. After they got in the car, he turned to look at her and asked, “Where we goin’?”

“Target.” She responded, as he started backing out of the driveway. Y/N always, always, let Grayson choose the music. Grayson always said the driver got to choose the music, but she never put up a fight with anything he chose. Which is why when Grayson asked her to shuffle his Young Thug playlist, she did it. No questions asked, bobbing her head to the music, even rapping some of it, on their way to Target.

When they got there, Grayson parked in the closest parking space he could find. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but not too many. Even if Grayson hadn’t seen Y/N in a while, he always kept three masks in his car. One for himself, one for Ethan, and one for Y/N. They both put their masks on and started walking toward the entrance.

When they got inside, Y/N was grabbing Grayson’s hand and dragging him all the way to the snacks section. The first thing she grabbed was pretzels, one of her all time favorite snacks, but sometimes she forgets how much she likes them. She went on a search to find Nutella, which in the process, Grayson made a smart comment about it not being vegan. Then she grabbed two bags of Doritos, cool ranch and nacho cheese.

Immediately after she grabbed the Doritos, she thought about ice cream. Grayson was on this stupid health kick getting ready for this match with Logan, that doesn’t even have a date. Because of that, it had become 200 times harder to convince Grayson to get ice cream. He knew that if he was around Y/N when she was eating ice cream, he’d cave. Which is why right now, when he saw that look in Y/N’s eyes, he knew exactly what she wanted.

He didn’t even let her get it out, “No.”

“But I didn’t even-“

“Absolutely not. I’m trying to eat healthy.”

“You don’t have to have any. Just let me get some.” She pleaded.

“Y/N, no. Are you done?”

“Grayson, please?” She begged, giving him that look that she knew would make him say yes.

“Fuckin’ fine. Let’s go” Grayson said, giving in.

So they walked to the ice cream section. Y/N already knew what she was going to get. She picked up two jars of Talenti. She made sure to choose vegan flavors, so she chose Alphonso Mango and Roman Raspberry. Grayson groaned when he realized she chose vegan ice cream. “You want me to have some that bad?”

She just nodded and told him, “I’m ready to check out.”

They walked to self-checkout and put everything down. Grayson always let Y/N scan because it was one of her favorite things to do. She didn’t know why, it just made her happy. When she had scanned everything, she went to pull out her card. “Uh-uh.” This was a conversation they had all the time. Y/N could afford to buy her own snacks, but Grayson just wouldn’t allow it.

“Grayson, at most it’s 25 dollars. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I invited you over, so I should pay for it.”

“I asked for snacks, so I should pay for it.”

“Let me pay for it this time and then you can pay me back later.” Grayson only suggested that because he knew she never carried cash and he didn’t have cash app.

“Fine, but I get to buy them next time.”

“Ok, fine.” Grayson just shrugged his shoulders.

“Promise.” Y/N said, holding out her pinky.

“I promise.” Grayson said, as he linked their pinkies together rolling his eyes.

The ride back to Grayson’s house was smooth, but it felt long. So long, that Y/N tilted her head back and closed her eyes for what felt like 2 minutes. It actually ended up being a little under 30 because when she was opening her eyes, they were pulling into his driveway.

Grayson didn’t say anything about her falling asleep. Every chance he got, he’d glance over at the sleeping girl beside him. Right now, though, he was running over to open the car door for her and help her out. Every time she fell asleep in the car she was always disoriented for a few minutes after.

When they got back to his bedroom, spoons in hand because they stopped at the kitchen to get napkins and spoons, Grayson dropped the bag in the middle of the bed while Y/N crawled right back in his bed. As Grayson was climbing into bed, Y/N realized that it was a little after 11pm. She knew once Grayson had some ice cream, he’d be out like a light and she’d be up all alone, but she just wanted to live in the moment. Turning Big Mouth back on, they snuggled, both holding ice cream and a blanket thrown over them because Grayson knew Y/N got cold when she ate ice cream, but refused to admit it.

It was closing in on 12am and she saw Grayson trying to keep his eyes open and converse with her about any and everything. “Go to sleep, babe. I can stay up on my own.” She murmured to him as she went to reach for the remote to turn the tv off, so Grayson could sleep well.

Grayson grabbed the remote before she could and sat up a little bit straighter, “Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.”

“Babyyyy.” She said, absolutely oblivious to the fact that he was in love with her and would stay up all night with her if it meant getting to hang out with her.

“I love you, Y/N.” And he meant it with everything he had.

“I love you more, bub.” She responded, as Grayson pulled her even further into his chest.

tagging: @blindedbythelightt @333dolans @foxglovedolan

A/N: hi! if you read it, thank you!! this had no business being 2k words, but it’s my longest fic thus far. if you have feedback let me know. if you wanna be tagged, which idk why you would, but if you do lmk. this literally took like 3 hours to write becuase writers block 😭😭😭😭 anyway, this is so self-indulgent i- anyway, love you sm. peace ✌️

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fic #grayson bailey dolan #rhyan writes

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notasdriedapricots · 3 years

Note

19: 9 hours for Liz and Lucas for June prompts x

I'M HERE. July is almost over, but I'm here. This turned into a monster and I am so sorry. There's probably so much I could cut, and it's poorly resolved, and the prompt got very lost in the way, BUT it's something.

As always, thank you Iris for sending these, even if I take forever to get to them. From this list. 2200 words because I am a monster. I am so sorry. Also there is a musical part in this one, so if you can play that it'd be cool :D Okay, bye!

9 hours

Liz stopped playing when she heard the front door open and then close. She looked at the guest room's door with a smile, waiting for it to open next. Nothing.

"Lucas?"

No response. She checked her watch; in the middle of practicing a particularly hard passage she'd lost track of time, and of the fact that he should have gotten home over an hour ago. An hour ago even if he had taken the extra shift and forgotten to tell her. After leaving the bow on the table and setting the cello on its stand, she peaked into the living room. Empty. No white lab coat on the hanger next to the door, like he always left it when he was back. I'm about to get murdered, aren't I?

"Lucas?" she tried again.

His voice, muffled and lower than usual, reached her from the couch. "Here."

Liz found him lying on his stomach, face burrowed into a pillow and hands linked over the back of his neck, with the lab coat still on. Everything screamed 'hard day'. She leaned over the back of the couch, worry behind her eyes, and rubbed a hand softly up and down his spine. He sighed to her touch, the gesture reminding him to relax his muscles.

"Everything okay?"

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on his surroundings: the flat, the couch, her hand on his back. His shift – what had turned into a 9-hour shift, breaks not included – was over, and he was no longer at the clinic. It didn't smell like alcohol and disinfectant, but like fresh flowers and coffee. He was home, with Liz.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he sighed. "Hi." He freed one hand and reached behind him to grab hers.

She leaned down to kiss it, and he squeezed back in response. Liz bit her lip, pondering whether or not she should push further. "Bad day?" she risked, brushing his knuckles with her thumb.

"Could have been better."

She bit her lip again; that was enough of an answer to not dig any deeper. Her other hand raked his hair softly and Lucas suddenly felt his shoulders relax, unaware of how much tension he'd been holding there. He moved his hand away so hers could run down to his nape, letting out a low grunt when she squeezed; even she knew those muscles shouldn't be that stiff.

"You shouldn't be taking extra shifts when you've been so tired." There wasn't a trace of reproach in her voice, just soft concern.

"It wasn't that." She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue if he wanted to; giving him an out if he didn't. "I… I thought I was discharging a long-time patient today and… I thought wrong. We thought wrong."

Liz didn't know what to do. He'd been coming home so happy from work for weeks, seeing him suddenly this down completely threw her off. He was used to her shutting down when she was nervous about work, but it was the first time she was the one on that side of the situation. What do you need? What can I do? She debated whether to leave him alone or not. Maybe that's why he didn't come find me when he got home? But leaving while he needed her was unthinkable, she wouldn't risk it; if he wanted to be alone, he would tell her.

Lucas felt her let go of his hand and lightly tug at the collar of his coat. "Off."

She tossed it over a nearby armchair and sat astray his hips, and he got out of his head for just a second, long enough to raise a curious eyebrow to himself before his mind was flooded again with that morning's events. She leaned forward to plant a kiss on his neck, and when she felt him let out his deepest sigh yet, she knew she was doing the right thing; he didn't want to be alone. Another kiss landed behind his ear, before she sat up again.

"He got injured over the weekend and half the progress he'd made…" he started. Her hands slid under his scrubs and pressed onto his lower back, slowly but firmly, with both force and care, working their way up as she tried to recall how he did this when they were in opposite places. He rewarded her with a low grunt as he rolled his shoulders back. Ah, god bless you, Liz. "I don't know which one of us was more heartbroken, if I'm honest. He worked so hard for months…"

Liz felt a weight in her chest, a weight she assumed was only a fraction of the one in his. "You'll get back there."

Frustration slipped into his tone. "Yeah, but we were supposed to be there already…" With another deep breath, his voice turned pensive. "It's odd sometimes. Working a job where your biggest reward is to stop seeing your patients? Hoping you never see their face again unless you're crossing paths during a run in the park? I was gonna miss him, but realising I wouldn't need to for at least another two months…"

The defeat in his voice made it clear which patient he was talking about. A young man, a boy, that he always mentioned as one of his favourites. A teenager that had been in a very bad accident where he'd lost his dad, so that on top of his physical recovery was dealing with an even bigger emotional one. Of course he'd stayed back late, taken the extra shift probably to bring him back and work out a new plan moving forward. And of course you're still thinking about it.

"Shit happens, love." She felt him breathe in to respond. "I know. I know that doesn't help. But…" She looked up at the ceiling, shaking her head as her hands pressed between his shoulder blades. "You've always said it's rarely a straight road. And this is no one's fault."

"It's just that I… I'd never had something like this happen before. I'd heard professors talk about it over and over again, telling us to be ready for it, to expect it, but in five years it had never… actually happened."

To you. It had never happened to you. "Lucas, this is not your fault."

"I know that. I know, but…" His voice died. He'd been fighting that thought all day, only managing to do so because there was another bigger, much more bothering and heavy one.

She waited for him to continue. He didn't. "But?"

Another moment of silence. "It's not fair."

Liz sighed and stopped her hands, fighting back sudden tears. He'd never sounded so exhausted, so defeated, so unlike him. She had never hated this much that job of his that she so deeply loved. She threaded her arms under his, grabbing onto the front of his shoulders as she leaned forward again, letting all of her weight fall onto his back, trying to somehow protect him from his own thoughts.

He welcomed the pressure of her body on his. Okay, I get weighed blankets now. Again, he focused his attention on his surroundings, on her, the warmth of her body, the lingering hints of her perfume, her breath on his skin when she nuzzled under his jaw and then kissed his neck, long and soft. Her temple rested against his.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered.

Her lips found his cheek and he turned his head to meet her mouth. It was sweet, calm, and soothing; a kiss that tried to convince him that 'it will be okay, you can still get there, you will get there'. He managed to turn onto his back, and wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. He brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek.

"Thank you, darling. I'm okay. Just tired."

She looked into his eyes and could tell he was lying, downplaying it. A frown crossed her forehead and she cradled his face in both hands.

"Stop it. Don't doubt yourself." If I'd managed to work faster this injury wouldn't have been a problem. She gave him a warning look. "Stop. I can't stand it."

"Maybe you should get another boyfriend, then."

She sat up. "Oh, you mean one that at least doubts himself over the right things?"

"Hold on, what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sorry, love, but there is such a thing as 'too much gel', you know?"

"I haven't used gel since we got out of the Villa, what are you-?" He smiled despite himself. "Oh, I see. That almost worked. Thanks for trying, though."

The playful look she'd managed to put on vanished. Okay. Big guns. "Floor."

"Excuse me?"

"Get on the floor. On your back."

"Darling, you're gonna hurt your knees…"

She slapped his chest, both holding back small smiles. "Har-har. I mean it. If even I can tell your back is messed up, it's because it's really messed up. Floor." She got off him and walked away towards the bedrooms.

Lucas sighed and complied, kicking off his shoes before lying on the floor with his ankles crossed on the couch, hands on his stomach. He closed his eyes. Why? Why did I have to play it safe instead of pushing him a bit further? I could have, he could have made progress much quicker and save… maybe 3 weeks? At least 2. And we wouldn't be here. Fuck, Sam, I'm sorry. He remembered the kid hugging him, apologizing to him for not being careful enough. 'You're the one back on crutches, what are you apologizing to me for?', he'd answered, trying to hide his own sadness to not bring the kid down even more. But truth was, he'd never felt more useless.

He heard a chair set next to him, and then Liz started to pluck strings on her cello. When the bow finally pulled the warm sounds he'd grown to adore, goosebumps instantly covered his entire body. He needed to make a joke or he was certain he would start to tear up, so he opened his eyes and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Really, Liz? Cyndi Lauper-?" She shut him up with a kick without missing a beat.

And so he closed his eyes again and followed the melody as it flowed through his body, seeming to relax the last tense muscles while his thoughts started to slow down. Things started to fall into place and seem – at least a little – less dramatic, for some reason. We will work through it. It will be okay. We will get back to that point. The goosebumps never left his skin, and he almost shivered every time the sound got specially high or low. Damn, you're amazing…

Of course Liz hadn't just chosen any song to play for him, but one with a chorus that would say something. She couldn't do anything to solve his problem. She couldn't even do anything to help him with it. But what she could do, what she would do, was be there for him; to play for him, or give him what were probably underwhelming massages compared to his, or whatever he needed… But she would always be there. If she had to play a cheesy 80s ballad to get her point across, so be it.

Lucas kept getting lost in the sound of an old melody turned into something familiar and foreign at the same time; the strange part was that he'd never expected to hear 'Time after time' played on a cello, but the known one was that it was Liz playing it. She finished the song and silence filled the flat again. Lucas sighed deeply, a small smile playing on his lips. The corners of his eyes burned.

"How the fuck do you do that? It's just metal and wood."

"And almost 20 years of training," she allowed herself to joke at the sight of him visibly more relaxed. "And, you know, my soul."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. I love you so much. "That must be it."

The corner of her lip twitched into a brief half smile before concern returned. "Lucas it's-"

"Gonna be okay. I know. Shit happens." He offered his hand and she rested the cello on an armchair before lying down on the floor next to him and setting her head on his chest. He kissed her hair. "It's nice to know that you'll be waiting to catch me when I fall, though."

She snorted a laugh and hugged him tighter. "Time After Time."

"Okay, that is a cheesy line."

"It is. But I Will Always Love You."

They were both grinning now. "Oh, thank god. This will be an Endless Love, then. I promise I'm Never Gonna Give You Up."

She let out a loud laugh. Just when I thought I couldn't love a sound more than you playing the cello… "Never gonna let me down?"

"Never gonna run around and desert you."

"Good." She sat up and pressed a finger to his chest. "Now go take a shower and then we'll see what happens if I put Careless Whisper on, shall we?"

#Luz 💕#Liz #Lucas #sofi tries to write #kill it #it's ugly lol #yes I did just do that and no I am not sorry #i am sorry for the wordcount but i'm not sorry for *that*#deal with it #I hope at least it's kinda cute #litg lucas #lucas x mc

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Text

Trials & Tribulations (CH. 4)

Me Without You

Chapter 1: Afterwards Chapter 2: The Next 4 Days Chapter 3: It All Falls Down

Love Interests: Ethan Ramsey, Bryce Lahela Word Count: 3.3k Warning: angst, adult themes, possible destructive mental health triggers Summary: Have you ever been so out of touch with your emotions that you constantly make choices? Yeah… That’s what Becca’s doing.

________________________________________

For almost two weeks Becca left him texts and voicemails at various times of the day - anything she could think of to reach him. She needed an explanation. Things were good, she thought. Why would he up and leave without saying a word? Weren’t they in a better place now? Why did he go?

They’d slept together a few days ago, breaking down every sacred barrier of professionalism they’ve erected since Miami. It was an initial shock for them to be on the same team come the fall but they could work though it. They were stronger than this. They’ve been through so many secrets together how could they not?

By day 9 Becca had long left the shock of abandonment behind and just needed to hear his voice, rationale be damned. His voicemail lulled her to sleep most nights when Rafael couldn’t come over to help numb the pain. The short curt message was so distinctly him;

“Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Leave a voicemail or call 911 if it’s an emergency.”

She’d always hung up right before the beep. Becca was embarrassed by how many times she called each day yet was more embarrassed to have him hear the desperation in her voice. As silly as she felt, it’s like a piece of her had gone missing. Eight weeks was a long time to pine after someone who ran away. More like an entire year… She had him once, why was he pushing her away again?

After catching him leaving their apartment that fateful morning after her ethics hearing, Elijah and Sienna held onto Becca’s deepest secret. They saw no need to start drama within their group after everything that has happened, especially for one briefly passionate weekend.

However short-lived, it was the most freeing three days of Rebecca Lao’s life. It felt right, he felt right. Why doesn’t he feel the same way?

Ugh I can’t keep thinking of him.

Becca pushed him to the back of her mind every single time he popped into it, forcing herself to focus on her patients and the little distraction known as her friends. Dr. Rebecca Lao was determined to move on, her completely decimated heart be damned.

***

At 1:12PM on that ninth afternoon Becca snuck back to the locker room and sent him another text,

Please let me know you’re okay.

She huffed as she shoved her phone deep into her coat pocket, ready to go on lunch and wallow in her misery.

For the last seven days Becca hadn’t worn a lick of makeup. She couldn’t bring herself to keep up appearances. Anyone could see the cracks through her painted face, so what’s the point in putting all the effort into it? She wore the bags under her eyes proudly a reminder that, albeit everything, she’s still alive and capable of thriving. Her greasy brown hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun and baby strands flying carelessly around her forehead, she hadn’t felt like washing it in a few days. Her eyes were dull. Nothing really sparked the fire in them anymore. No one was pushing her to reach past her potential anymore.

I can’t wait to spend all day in bed tomorrow. Maybe I’ll actually take a relaxing bath…

“Ah, Dr. Lao!” she heard the chipper and lively voice of Naveen call a few feet ahead of her. She looked up from her fixated gaze on the stark white linoleum and to the old doctor bounding happily towards her with his cane. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” she responded trying not to meet his inquisitive eyes. “How have you been?”

The question was simple enough. It was obligatory small talk in most circles however here and now they held a deeper meaning. Rebecca couldn’t have been the only one taking His departure roughly.

“Hanging in there,” he told her honestly with newly darkened eyes, and she gave him a sad smile back. Naveen extended an olive branch to the only other person that would understand, “Would you care to join me for lunch?”

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Wonderful,” he beamed “I’ll meet you in the atrium in 15 minutes?”

Beca forced a small smile, “It’s a date.”

Naveen and Becca sat at a table at one of his favorite local Indian restaurants near the hospital. During the fifteen minute drive over, the man raved about the chutney and how the family-run establishment was one of the only ones with a proper heat meter - “not like conservative dishes you’d find at chains”.

The two pleasantly spoke of their last few days as if they were two lifelong friends despite only knowing one another for a few months. Once the waiter brought over their meals she finally let herself ask the question causing hives at the back of her neck, “Have you heard from him?”

Naveen moved the rice around his plate to mix with his lamb curry and took a deep breath; he knew this was coming.

“He sent me an email once he got there,” he said as evenly as he could manage. “I’m sure he’s fine. Ethan’s tough.” Naveen wished he could ease the woes he’s seen pass the young resident’s features ever since that day of the announcement. But his loyalty towards his makeshift son outweighed conflict in his heart. There was a reason Ethan didn’t tell her and I must respect it. However misplaced. With a slight smile he tried to reassure her instead, “Surely enough, no matter his rank, he would have taken control and whipped everyone into shape. He’ll be back home to us soon enough.”

Email? She didn’t think of that… God, He is an old man.

Her attention was fixed on the salad in front of her, pushing the leaves one over the other. “I jus -” There were so many questions she needed answers to. If anyone knew Him well enough to help her speculate his motives it would be his most dearest friend. Her voice was small as she continued, “Why didn’t he tell me?” It took a lot of strength to keep her voice from cracking.

Her stormy eyes finally lifted to meet warm brown. The deep marks of age on his dark brown features arched downwards in sympathy. He set his fork down by his plate and dabbed the corners of his mouth, preparing to ease the mind of this doleful girl.

“He told me he applied the moment he quit but didn’t expect to hear back. It was a wishful thought; he never would be able to stay retired long. We have that in common, him and I. As for why he didn’t tell you I can only speculate.” The older doctor tried to keep his features impartial and failed. “The boy has a one track mind sometimes; when he puts his mind to it nothing will stop him until he’s reached the desired outcome.”

She’s seen Him exhibit that kind of behavior before and gave Naveen a sad smile back in recognition.

Naveen reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “He’s been through a lot in life and hasn’t always been the best with feelings. But when you know him long enough, and get to know his expressions, it’s easy to see something...” the Chief of Medicine chose his words carefully, “intimate has become of you two.”

Normally Becca would have scoffed at the insinuation, but now she just couldn’t bring herself to react. Naveen’s words were settling in - she knew He had scars from his childhood that he didn’t dare talk about. She knew He was closed off and an acquired taste. And she knew Naveen was half-right.

Sadly she replied, “I don’t think there’s anything between us.”

Naveen didn’t want to argue, he could see through the broken girl in front of him and his heart ached for them both.

Rightfully he changed the subject, “Are you working on any exciting cases?”

“Not as exciting as they are unfortunate,” she shrugged, picking at the salad. “I have a young girl with leukemia and a patient on dialysis with pneumonia. I’m not sure either of them will pull through.”

“If you need any help, I’m only a page away.” His gaze cascaded a sense of comforting warmth over her. “You’re not just my grandmentee, you’re family.”

She was happy to have Naveen in her corner but couldn’t help wondering if the offer was conditionally tied to him.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for joining me,” Naveen acknowledged, “I say we make this a routine thing!”

For the first time in a long time the corners of her lips perked up, “I’d like that.”

That evening she sent him an email;

Hey,

I know you’re kicking ass down there (you know I mean the outbreak, please don’t punch anyone!), but I hope you’re being safe. I had lunch with Naveen today, he’s really worried about you. We miss you. Please please please let us know you’re okay. I’m still mad at you for leaving but I’ll forgive you if you just please talk to me. If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. I just want to know that you’re alive and well. Even if you don’t want to talk to me, please keep Naveen updated.

See you soon,

R x

***

“Roo-mie Bar Crawl. Roo-mie Bar Crawl.” Sienna chanted from the middle of their living room. The gang was all dressed up and ready to let loose after a really harrowing week on the job.

Becca hadn’t contacted Him since that first and last email three days ago. She made her peace with it. After days of trying, a deep conversation with Naveen, and receiving absolutely nothing in return for her efforts, she settled on the assumption that He was ghosting her. Her heart ached but she didn’t want to let the heartbreak consume her. Instead she’d find other distractions.

Those distractions came in the form of Rafael, Bryce, and Sienna. Each friend mended a different part of her tattered heart. Sienna took care of her by way of baked goods, forcing her to talk about her feelings and retail therapy - Becca needed a bit of mothering in these last few days, especially since she didn’t have a close relationship with her birth mother. Bryce was her feel-good companion, he’d take her out for a drink or an excursion, anything he could possibly do to have her smile reach her eyes once again. Lastly, Rafael helped take care of her intimately - although he’s been M.I.A. the last week…

The group congregated in their shared living room, ready to go. Becca sat on the sofa next to Bryce as he helped lace up her heels. Sienna chanted once again and everyone cheered a response. Once more Elijah listed off items and everyone patted their pockets and their bags. Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. ID? Check.

“Is Raf not coming?” Becca asked as they paraded through the hallway.

“No, he’s got plans with his girlfriend,” Jackie said matter-of-factly.

Becca's footsteps fell behind her friend ever so slightly. What!?

“Really? When’d that happen?”

Jackie retorted like it wasn’t the most important bit of information, “I don’t know, recently?”

“She’s his childhood sweetheart,” Kyra piped in. “Just moved back and they’ve been on a few dates. Very romantic.”

Becca bit her lip, “Yeah… good for them.”

There were so many questions racing through her mind. They had just slept together for the fifth and seemingly final time less than 2 weeks ago. Was Becca the other woman? No matter the questions there’s just one thing Becca couldn’t shake;

I’ve gone and thrown myself at another man who doesn’t want me.

She was determined to have a good time regardless of the mountain of rejection forming at her core. Good thing alcohol’s the best medicine… She was prepared to spend the next few hours looming in her chaos, choosing reckless behavior instead of facing her feelings.

***

The group pregamed at Donohues for happy hour, choosing to spend their most coherent of hours in a familiar place. They downed 2-for-1 tequila shots each and played a round of darts until the board began to move. Becca did all she could to keep from staring at the empty far corner of the bar. Every time she did she took another shot.

Then the residents made their way to a dive bar for cheap drinks. It was a small hole-in-the-wall place with not enough space for the large group. Bryce and Kyra went in to grab the first and only round bringing it out to the side of the building where everyone else was waiting. The sun had now fully set and the group was getting cold. To warm up Jackie suggested they chugged.

Fifteen minutes later they ended up at a sports bar and grabbed some quick grub. Elijah was drawn to the TV playing a game Becca couldn’t care less about. Her and Bryce shared a plate of nachos and a double cheeseburger with onion rings. Sienna gave a side eye at how close her two friends were becoming. After the third bar the group started to fan out, Aurora and Kyra headed home needing a solid seven hours of sleep to be functional.

Feeling the buzz and forgetting about Raf, they powered on! On their way to the club the group passed an Irish pub with music blasting. They accepted the inevitable detour and danced in the middle of the floor to the house fiddle band. Everyone had one drink before Sienna, Jackie and Elijah bowed out afterwards overcome with exhaustion.

The last two troops gave one another a devious smirk and headed to the club arm in arm.

Bryce and Becca held off on drinks feeling full of life from the last few rounds and put off by the elite pricing. He grabbed her hand and led her onto the technicolor floor. They danced and danced to song after song. Occasionally she’d turn around and he'd hold her flush to his chest. The sensation releasing copious amounts of serotonin and oxytocin.

At one point she was sandwiched between Bryce and another hopeless stranger. It seemed the two men wanted to outlast the other. She found the determined glimmer in her friend’s eye so amusing. Becca turned away from the poor stranger and back to Bryce, the two men calling a silent truce. He raised his eyebrows and she mouthed “stay”. He moved in closer and kissed her temple causing the nameless hopeful to storm away.

They stayed. They danced. They drank.

Bryce leaned over to speak into her ear, “That guys totally checking you out.”

She cocked her head to see a dark skinned stranger in well-tailored clothes eyeing them.

“Maybe he’s checking you out,” she sneered.

Bryce’s contagious and magnificent smile lit up his face, “He’s definitely trying to figure out if we’re together.”

She made a show of rolling her eyes.

Pointing over his shoulder he said, “I’m gonna go get us another round.”

The mystery stranger used that as an opportunity.

“Hey,” his tenor voice smooth and unconflicted.

The stranger wasn’t much taller than Becca. He had dark olive skin, enchanting amber eyes, a buzz cut which is so different from her type - she liked a man with locks she could latch on to. His shallow beard accented his chiseled jaw. He wore a navy blue v-neck that drew the attention to the defined muscles beneath. He was a small man compared to those she surrounded herself with, and was a stark contrast to what she was attracted to. And maybe, just maybe he could help her forget for a minute.

“Hey,” Becca said back, scanning the crowd over the man’s shoulder for Bryce’s return.

Before she knew it she was bumped in the back and tumbling towards the handsome stranger. Bryce was the culprit walking hand in hand with another girl he picked up at the bar as he shot his friend an encouraging wink.

The stranger nodded over to Bryce’s retreating form, “Looks like you’ve been dumped.”

“I’ve been abandoned by my friend,” she clarified. Becca’s eyes locked with the olive strangers and shrugged, “Guess I’m in the market for some company.”

He raised his eyebrows and they both moved to close the distance, letting the air around them take control. His thin hand moved to her waist while one of hers laid to rest on his taut forearm. They moved in unison. She kissed the stranger fiercely for what felt like hours in the middle of the club, their tongues battling for dominance. His left hand trailed up to her hair and the right settled on the skin at the small of her back to keep her flush to him. When they came up for air he asked Becca to go home with him.

Without hesitation she said she’d meet him at the bar in five.

Sitting in the dirty bathroom she couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was intoxicated, alone and willing to go home with just about anyone that would give her the time of day? No. She was stronger than this. She shouldn’t succumb to this. She wasn’t desperate enough to do this.

But the alcohol took over.

She regretted the decision immediately.

After all this time she never expected a response.

First with a text, Are you ok?

Why now? She thought as she stood in the dingy bathroom watching the notification flash over her lockscreen.

She fled.

Becca shoved her phone deep in her pocket and retreated back to the commotion as fast she could. She scanned the room briefly looking for Bryce but spotted the stranger moving onto his next conquest. She reached the base of the stairs, her phone incessantly vibrating. She pulled it out to see the same message sent a second time. Against her better judgment she typed back;

Not at all.

Within seconds, flashing across the phone screen was the name she longed for.

Incoming: Ethan Ramsey

She didn’t have a chance to say anything as she made her way outdoors before he asked in a low and stoic voice, “Where are you?”

“Where are you?”

“Rebecca…”

She wanted to hang up so badly. But his voice… How she missed his voice. And he was there. He sees her messages - he called because he cares. Well that’s what she told herself. Why else would he finally respond after all these days?

Her words were caught in her throat - she had so many things she wanted to say to him - to ask him, but nothing came out. She was rendered mute between the embarrassment and opportunity.

“Becca are you still there?”

She had to open and close her mouth a few times before the words manifested on her tongue. “Right where… you left me,” she whispered more to herself than anything.

He left. He left me.

The two ex-lovers were silent, the load of everything she’s had to bottle up finally taking its toll and Becca started to sob. All of the feelings she’d tried to box away and shrug off came crashing down. Ethan Ramsey broke her heart. He let her into his world outside of Edenbrook and vice versa. She let herself fall for him and it became detrimental, a derailment to every hope she started residency with.

Another person she considered close had betrayed her.

Another man had disappointed and abandoned her.

Becca never talked much about her past, gently refusing to confront the heartache her father caused her, what Landry had done to her, how Rafael avoided her and how her idol, her mentor and lover abandoned her. The culmination broke her.

She dropped to the curb, her vision impared by her tears. She let her face fall in her left hand and clutched the phone in her right to her ear. One word kept running through her mind as she completely fell apart on a dim Boston street at an ungodly hour of the evening, praying that the son-of-a-bitch on the other end of the line would put her at ease;

Pathetic.

“Bec-”

She hung up the phone.

________________________________________

Taglist: @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @aylamreads @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie @interobanginyourmom @queencarb @perriewinklenerdie @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @choicesficwriterscreations @heauxplesslydevoted @schnitzelbutterfingers @purpledragonturtles @ramseyandrys @ermidc @mrsdrakewalkerblog @doilooklikeiknow @overwhelminglyaquarius @drethanramslay

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #choices fanfic #choices oph2 #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #bryce lahela x mc #bryce lahela #oph #oph ff #ff

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simp-for-spencer-reid · 3 years

Text

Sugar with a Side of Coffee- Ch. 9: The Friendship/Relationship Limbo

Masterlist

Spencer was not sure what overcame to do something like that. He did not drive straight home, instead he chose to drive aimlessly through the city. His palms were still sweating, even though Cate was long gone from his car. He was worried he had seriously messed up; she hadn’t even kissed him back. He left so fast he didn’t even want to see the look of disappointment on her face. Before he knew it, he found himself outside of JJ’s house.

It was late, just past eleven. He knew she’d be sleeping, and also that her kids would be put to bed. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled his phone out and called her to see if she was awake. She picked up on the third ring.

“Spence? Is everything okay?” JJ tried her best to sound awake. He tried to ignore the lack of butterflies when JJ called him by the nickname.

“Would it be okay if I came over? I think I ruined my friendship with Cate.” He chewed on his lip and drummed the fingers of his left hand over his steering wheel.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get a pot of coffee started.” He could hear JJ get out of bed and the ruffle of what he could assume was her putting on a house coat over her pajamas.

“Good because I’m already here.” He hung up and went to her front door, which opened as he got closer. He could see JJ’s tired figure.

“Of course you are.” She said, letting him inside. They made their way to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible due to JJ’s family sleeping. Will had walked through the hallway to the bathroom, mumbling a greeting to Spencer.

JJ had to listen carefully as Spencer recalled the events of the night. He had chugged the mug of coffee. His fingers jittered and his hands flew about as he rushed through his admittance of feelings for Cate and how good she was. Just an all around good person. Too good for him, too good to be brought down by his job.

“Then tell her, Spence.” JJ said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Spencer’s mouth opened and shut without making any words. “Tell her how you feel; you’re getting in your head.” JJ reached a hand out to Spencer’s shoulder. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

Cate paced back and forth in Marta’s small bedroom, not taking more than a few steps in either direction. She could still feel the buzz on her lips, but she wanted to blame the blur of thoughts on her tiredness from the late night.

“I’m sorry, why is this a bad thing?” Marta asked sarcastically. “I thought you were into him?” Cate pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes.

“I do! But I don’t know, I think I was misreading things.” Cate started to bite her nails. “Why would he just, like, run away like that?” Cate laid back on Marta’s bed and covered her head with a pillow. “Maybe it was a mistake.” Cate convinced herself. Marta placed a hand on Cate’s arm.

“Here’s a thought: how about you talk to him?” Marta was the logic to Cate’s unreasonable doubt. When Marta pulled the pillow off of Cate’s face, she was met with a glare from the brunette. “He always stops by for coffee. Why not just ask him about it when he comes?” Marta swept Cate’s stray hairs from her face.

Spencer’s three day absence had not gone unnoticed by Cate when she was working the cart. Something in her told her he wasn’t away on a case, like the usual reason. Even though Cate had wanted to address their friendship-relationship limbo, she was glad she hadn’t seen him because it gave her time to mull things over and think of exactly what she wanted to say to him.

Spencer had taken a short leave of absence from the bureau to visit his mother in his hometown of Las Vegas. He hadn’t been to see her in a few months, so he was due for a visit. He wrote her weekly and sometimes daily when he had time. The days he had seen her were good days. Seeing her, helped Spencer forget about the situation he left behind in D.C.

Cate would be lying if she said she didn’t miss seeing Spencer most mornings. They had grown close in their friendship and not to mention he still had her books. She missed laughing with him and fixing his coffee for him. She remembered their chess game and seeing him at the bar with a drunk Marta. Mostly, she just missed him.

Coming back from his getaway, he was met with relentless questions from Garcia about his trip to the Smithsonian with Cate. He tried very hard to dodge her questions and dance around them. He channelled nearly every tactic from his training to give as little information as possible.

“I know you’re hiding something from me, Doctor.” Penelope pointed a fuzzy-capped pen at the lanky agent. “And I will find out.” Her heels clacked against the tile of the hallway as she walked away. But, the questioning did not stop there. Spencer had entered the bullpen. After placing his bag down on his desk he made his way to the coffee corner they had. Even though they had started getting their supply from The Empty Mug, his coffee wasn’t the same as when he ordered from Cate. Next to him, Derek was making himself a coffee.

“So,” he stirred milk into his coffee. “How was your museum date?” Derek raised an eyebrow at Spencer.

“Pleasant.” he said curtly, heading to his desk.

“Really? That’s all you got for me, Pretty Boy?” Derek sat at his desk, next to Spencer’s and leaned towards Spencer with intent. “You take little miss coffee out on a full fledged date and you’re not going to spill the details?” Derek teased Spencer, but it was apparent that that was the last straw.

“I kissed her and I haven’t seen her since, okay? Is that what you would like to hear?” Spencer spoke a little too loudly, earning stares from other agents around them. He leaned toward Derek and spoke more in a hush, not needing any more prompting. “I ruined our perfectly good friendship and managed to scare off the only girl who even showed remote interest in me. Thanks for making me relive that.” Spencer opened a drawer in his desk to search for a file. Derek took the hint and let the topic go.

Spencer tried not to think of the stack of books on the table in his study that belonged to Cate. He tried not to think of her smile when they discussed theories or the first time he saw her in her glasses. He tried to push her to the back of his mind, but his memory wouldn’t allow that.

He found himself seated at the round table with his team. His mind looked to their latest case: a stalker who had been taking pictures of the team. Pictures of Hotch coaching one of Jack’s soccer games, Emily looking out her window with Sergio- her cat, Derek exiting the building, and the last one was of Spencer, walking down the road that The Empty Mug was on. He was pictured walking next to Cate. It was the night he had walked her home. He remembered their chess game.

The picture made Spencer hate his job. He tried so hard to keep Cate out of the mess of criminals and serial killers. It made him never want to talk to her again, even if it broke his heart. He wanted her to stay safe, and it was clear to him how to make that happen.

This stalker became sloppy and the team managed to catch him after a week and a half. It was a bootcamp drop-out. He failed the test to make it through to the FBI agent training and he wanted revenge for being overlooked. He wanted to show the team how easy it was to follow them and how vulnerable they could be to him.

Cate tried hard not to let thoughts of Spencer distract her from her work. It had been a few weeks since she had last seen him. Her life seemed to go back to normal: She was able to move back into her apartment, which helped ease her mind of the million thoughts running through it. The cart’s shifts seemed mundane without her chat’s with Spencer.

This particular rainy day she had swapped with Marta and was working the shop. Marta was in a stand-off with her parents and wanted to use the cart as an excuse to steer clear of them. Their fight was something about Marta’s monthly rent payment to her parents.

Cate had her back turned, cleaning their brewing machine before closing when she heard the bell of the door ring, signalling a new customer had entered the shop. Cate turned around, her face wearing her best customer service smile, when she had come face to face with the man she had least expected.

Her smile dropped when she saw Spencer, standing before her, wet hair stuck to his face and his dress shirt clung to his body. She tried to not look so surprised, and entered his usual order into the register.

“The usual?” she didn’t even cover his coffee like she used to. She extended a hand for his payment.

“Yes, and. Uh, can I talk to you?” Spencer wore his pleading eyes with a lopsided smile. Cate tried to stifle a sigh.

“About?” Cate hoped he was referring to what she assumed, because she had a lot to say to him on the matter.

“About the last time I saw you. I have some explaining to do.” Spencer started. Cate was ready to come clean and admit her feelings she had before she felt like he had abandoned her. She opened her mouth, ready to speak, but Spencer continued:

“I know that I was the first to make the move, but I thought about it a lot, and I think we should stay just friends.”

Cate couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. On one hand, she was happy that he was finally speaking to her. On the other, she felt like her heart had been shattered. When she finally could register that Spencer was still standing in front of her, waiting for an answer, she responded.

“Oh, yeah of course.” she tried to seem like she was happy with the outcome. She turned around to start making his coffee, speaking loudly. She said any reassuring things that came to mind. “I get it, makes sense. No hard feelings.” It was easy to see she was convincing herself more than she was Spencer. She returned to the counter, handing him his coffee with just about a cup of sugar in it.

“I, uh, still have your books at my apartment.” Spencer was still standing at the counter, coffee in hand. Cate was trying to make herself seem busy, wiping the counter and refilling anything slightly empty.

“Yeah, I just got to move back into my place, so I’ll have to swing by and get them.” She avoided eye contact. Spencer could tell this situation wasn’t getting any better, so he gave a quick goodbye and left.

As he was leaving, Marta was dragging the cart back in. Spencer held the door open. Marta was surprised to see him there, stopping midway through the door to give him a greeting.

“Hey there, Sweater Vest! How’s it going?” Spencer muttered a response and squeezed past her to go home. Cate filled Marta in on the standing of her and Spencer’s newly decided friendship.

The team could see how tense Spencer had been since he had decided to be just friends with Cate. He tried to convince himself he had made the right decision. It was hard to keep secrets from his friends and colleagues, especially since they were profilers. JJ tried to be supportive, but he knew she wasn’t happy with the decision he had made. Penelope couldn’t stop looking at him like he was a sad puppy and brought him his favorite donut every morning since he had come in telling them about the update of him and Cate.

He had also since apologized to Derek for snapping at him. Derek tried to give him advice on how to exit “the friend zone” but Spencer wasn’t a fan of any of the options. The one that stayed with Spencer the longest though, was the option of sending her a voice message. Well, Derek suggested texting Cate, but Spencer wasn’t a fan of texting.

After a day in the office, Spencer finally checked his phone and was met with a voice message from Cate. He waited until he was alone in the elevator to play it.

“Hi, Spence.” He tried to ignore the way his stomach fluttered at the nickname. “I wanted to let you know that I’m stopping by this evening to come get my books. I mean, if you’re free I’d like to come get my books. Um, bye.” He smiled a little at her nervous ramble. He held his phone up to his own mouth and spoke his own voice message for her.

“I’m just leaving the bureau now, I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Would you like me to pick you up?” His phone chimed almost right away.

“No thanks, I’ll walk.” was her last response. Spencer wished she had said yes.

Cate had arrived at Spencer’s apartment promptly after he had gotten home himself. She was still in her uniform. She gave him a slight smile as he opened the door. When she walked in, she didn’t bother to put her purse or coat down in the kitchen like she used to. Spencer got the impression she did not want to stay long.

They walked together to Spencer’s study. Cate gently opened her books, feeling the wavy, water damaged pages. She closed it, and walked to view Spencer’s large bookshelf with his collection of classics. He moved so he was standing next to her. He pointed to the oldest book on his shelf.

“That’s my copy of the House of Mirth.” He pulled it out, looking at the worn cover.

“I prefer Ethan Frome.” She replied. Her tone made Spencer think she’d like him to crash a sled into a tree. They looked at each other for the first real time since Spencer decided to stay friends. Cate eyed him, her squinted eyes softened. Spencer looked back, studying her face, but also mentally preparing himself in case she lectured him to death about how stupid he was. Instead, they laughed. He wasn’t sure who started it, but for the first time in months, they laughed together.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer confessed. He raised a hand to her shoulder, but hesitated making contact. “Can we go back to when it wasn’t weird?”

“Yeah,” Cate smiled at him. “Let’s go back.” It was hard to stay mad at Spencer, when all she wanted to do was feel his lips on hers again.

The two had somehow wound up back in Spencer’s kitchen. Cate was sitting on the barstool at the island, her coat and purse next to her. Spencer was standing on the opposite side of the island, sipping a mug of coffee. They had discussed everything they had been up to since their date to the museum. Of course, leaving out the details of the aftermath of the kiss.

It was hard to see how the current status of Spencer and Cate’s friendship-relationship limbo affected his moods. As hard as he tried not to let it affect his work, she clouded his thoughts and he worked better when they were on good terms. He started to go back to the cart every morning when he had the chance. Starting his workdays with one of her smiles counteracted all the horrific images he saw on the job.

Cate liked seeing Spencer in the mornings, too. Instead of the hearts she would write on the plastic wrap of the baked goods, she opted for a smiley face or a sun now. It would seem that Spencer and Cate’s friendship was on the mend now, though they did not hang out exclusively as much as they did before. They did not hang out at all anymore. They kept their meetings to the coffee cart before work, or he would walk her to the shop after her shift if he was in town.

Their voice messages were kept to a minimum. Despite wanting to get back into the swing of their old habits, they wanted to attempt to keep it strictly friendly. Spencer was glad that things weren’t as awkward anymore.It was nice to have a friend outside of the BAU. Cate was grateful that the one good male specimen (save for Shrimp) she’d encountered in a while was speaking to her again.

Despite their claim to stay friends, the heart eyes they gave each other were quite obvious to those around them. Cate couldn’t count the amount of times the phrase “just friends” or “good friends” was muttered from Spencer’s mouth. It was as if he was convincing himself and speaking it into existence so he could claim it as truth. The more mornings they spent at the cart, the bigger the longing grew in Cate’s heart. Spencer didn’t want to admit it either, but the more time he spent seeing her brown eyes, the more he would do just about anything if she asked him to.

Cate walked home after a long shift at the coffee cart. The sun was setting, making the sky a beautiful orange. Her feet ached from standing all day. The lobby of her apartment building was empty as usual. Cate took the stairs like always, and when she reached her floor, she noticed a large package wrapped in brown paper and a smaller one on top. Her name was written in a messy scrawl in the corner. She didn’t need a name to know who it was from.

She picked it up, and entered her apartment. Shrimp was waiting eagerly by the door and weaved in and out of Cate’s feet. She placed the box on her counter, unwrapping it, careful not to rip the paper. Inside the smaller one was a bag of Harry Potter themed cat toys. In the larger one, was a new set of Harry Potter books. On the inside of the cover of the first was written in the same messy scrawl:

To: Cate

From: Spencer

#sugar with a side of coffee fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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eternal-love-song · 4 years

Text

The Kid Conversation

Shinso, Izuku, and Hatsume talk about having a child.

[Shinso x Hatsume x Izuku] [Established Relationship, Aged up characters, OT3, Polyamory, Domestic Bliss]

The house was noisy, as usual, and Shinso didn't notice how much he'd drowned it out until he glanced at the clock and realized that he'd been staring at the same page for an hour. He closed his book, placing it down in his lap and staring at it as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Mei was banging something out on her workbench, frequently knocking over the less important scraps and screws as she hyper focused only on her current project. She was sweaty, but not greasy. She'd gotten better at regular showering and eating after years of having him and Izuku bugging her about it. Now he could be certain she'd come up for air at least once a day, sometimes more if she wanted their company. Izuku was looking over her shoulder, throwing out wild theories about what she was making, what it could be used for, the typical stuff they went on about when Shinso wasn't listening.

Shinso himself had perched on the workbench by the door, the spot he always claimed for himself. The noise didn't usually bother him. He'd long adjusted to the fact that he had noisy partners and sometimes he enjoyed hearing them get lost in their own little world. It was comfortable. Domestic. Maybe that was why his mind was wandering the way that it was.

"What do you think of having children?" He didn't realize he'd spoken his thoughts outloud until he heard the thump of heavy machinery hitting the floor. Mei and Izuku were both staring at him, Mei quickly bending over to retrieve the machine she'd dropped and Izuku with his mouth hanging open. "Um...oops?"

"Oops?" Izuku repeated. He looked like his eyes might pop out of his head any moment. It would have been really funny if Shinso hadn't been feeling particularly embarrassed by blurting his thoughts out.

He opened his book to a random page and held it up in front of his face. "Never mind."

Izuku was pulling the book from his hands not a moment later. "Don't do that," he said. His surprised had melted into soft concern, his need to comfort taking priority.

"I can do that," Mei said. Both boys looked at her, but she was looking at her work bench again. "It might take a while to get the programing right, but it can't be that hard, right? It takes humans 9 months to make a kid, right? I can meet that deadline."

Shinso let out a breath, wishing he had kept his thoughts inside his head like he used to. Having two partners with no filter had done a number on his own restraint. "No, that's not what I meant. Not a robot or whatever you ant to make. An actual, human, flesh and blood child."

"Well, I--"

"Made biologically," Shinso interrupted before Mei could finish her thought. "Between us, if I need to make that clear too."

Mei looked up and stared at him again. He wasn't sure she'd ever looked so caught off guard in her entire life. "Well that's..." Words seemed to fail her and she looked around as if she'd find the next part of the conversation written on a sticky note somewhere. They did that sometimes, leave her notes to help her remember things. She seemed to realize that nothing would be forth coming as she looked back over to them again. "I... what?"

"We don't have to talk about this," Shinso said. "It was just a thought, I wasn't... asking or anything."

"Is that... do you want that?" Izuku asked him. "Kids?" He had parked himself in front of Shinso, hands on his knees, and he didn't seem like he would be leaving any time soon. That was... good probably.

"Maybe," he responded sullenly, avoiding Izuku's eyes. "It's not the worst thing, right?"

He could see Mei scrunching up her face over Izuku's shoulder. "I'm not..." She turned to face them, folding her arms over her chest and looking at the floor. "I can't take care of me half the time," she said. "A robot, I could program right. I could fix it if I broke it. A baby is... you can't fix those when they break."

"That's right," Izuku agreed. "If you know that already, you would be more careful, right?"

Mei didn't look up from the ground as she nodded.

"And we would be there to help."

"You haven't even said if you want to," Shinso pointed out. "Don't start planning anything on my account. It was just a question, not a drop everything suggestion."

"I know," Izuku said. He pushed some stuff to the side and sat next to Shinso, taking his hand. "I've never thought about it."

"Really?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well..." Izuku bit his lip, trying to gather his thoughts. Mei moved toward them. Shinso opened his legs and pulled her between them, letting his book fall to the ground. "I like kids," Izuku answered slowly. "I used to think I'd probably have them, but I never thought about them with... us. I never thought about us having kids."

"Now that you are?"

"I..." He paused, looking at Mei and taking her hand, too. "I don't want to put pressure on you. I... like the idea. I think it would be nice, but..."

Shinso nodded. "Yeah. It's a lot."

"What if... I'm a bad mother?" Mei asked in a small voice.

Shinso tightened his arms around her, but Izuku's words were faster. "You would not be a bad mother!"

"And even if you were," he added, "We could help you. People write books about this stuff. And classes."

"Yeah!" Izuku smiled at her. "We could study for this just like we studied to be heroes."

"I'm not a hero," Mei said.

Shinso lightly knocked their foreheads together. "You know what we mean."

"We'd all be doing this together," Izuku insisted. "We can look stuff and study, and if we don't like what we find out, we don't have to do it. And like Hitoshi said, it's not a right now decision. If we want to, we have time. Oh, and we can practice!"

Shinso frowned at him. "Practice how?"

"Babysitting," Izuku smiled. "Other heroes have children. We can talk to them and maybe get used to being around them."

"We could," Mei agreed slowly. "A robot would be easier."

Shinso pulled back to look at her. "Mei, do you want a robot child?"

She bit her lip. "Maybe..."

Shinso sighed and leaned his head against her shoulder.

"Alright, let's do it!" Izuku said.

Shinso turned his head to look at him. "Do what?"

"Have a robot child!" He looked excited, smiling as brightly as one of Mei's explosions, abrupt and bright.

"Excuse me?"

Mei smiled, wrapping her arms around Shinso. "Really?"

"You said it yourself, Mei! A robot you can program and fix. It can be a test run. If we don't like it, we can get rid of it no harm done. We can even look into having a real child while we're at it." The excitement between the two of them was contagious and he found himself smiling without meaning to.

"You really want to have a robot child?" He asked.

"Yes!" Mei exclaimed. "I'll have to draw up schematics right away! I can program our personalities into it and create a system to randomize the traits that it displays. I'll have to include a learning program and figure out what material to work with..." She paused, looking down at him and running her fingers through her hair. "Do you... not want a robot child? I realize that wasn't what you were asking for, but... if you don't want to..."

Izuku ran his thumb over Shinso's hand. He buried his face into the crook of Mei's neck. "I don't know. It's weird and not what I was thinking, but it's not... bad."

"I'll work on the plans," she said softly. "I'm really excited to see if I can figure it all out the way I want. Before I build it though... if I figure out how to build it, we'll talk about it first?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Great!" Izuku said. His excitement dimmed a little, turned softer as he lifted both his hands to plant a kiss on his and Mei's fingers. "I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing either. It's... kind of exciting, but kind of a lot of other things, too."

He closed his eyes, drinking in the presence of his partners around him. After a moment of silence he said, "I want to name it."

Mei laughed and squeezed him a little. "Of course! I'm terrible with names."

#ShinDekuMei #My Hero Academia #Hitoshi Shinso #Izuku Midoriya #Mei Hatsume #BNHA #OT3s Are My Heart #Shindeku #ShinMei #Izumei #ELS Writing

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notgonnarememberthis · 4 years

Text

Doesn’t This Have a Name

This one has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute. For the longest time I couldn't work out an ending but finally, thanks to one of my favorite people in the world, I managed to loop together this whole thing. This fic was inspired by the song Take Me Back from Strakid's BIack Friday. Absolutely would suggest listening to the song if you like this pairing bc it fits so well. Hope y'all enjoy!! Retitled: Was previously “take it back”

Jessica rubs her eyes tiredly as she goes over the legal documents for the hundredth time today. Ainsley’s plea of self defense was rock solid but she refuses to leave an ounce of chance behind that her little girl gets imprisoned because of that monster. The trial crawls by slowly, now on the third month since the incident. The justice system shows no interest in rushing for anyone, god knows, much less another Whitly that has stabbed a person.

God her family is so fucked.

Shuffling draws her attention as the doors to the dining room slide open. She doesn’t even look up from the papers, her tone a tired deadpan. “Malcolm now is not a good time.” She tries not to sound as exhausted as she actually is, just for his sake.

“Jess,” Her breath catches in her throat, head snapping up to see Gil standing in the doorway. God help her, he looks good for a man still recovering from a stab wound.

“How did you…”

“Malcolm gave me a spare key after you got your locks changed.” She huffs pushing herself to stand. “You look tired.” She narrows her eyes at him but still doesn’t answer. Truth be told she doesn’t even know what to say to him. He shifts back and forth, as if trying to make a decision. She quietly wills him not to push, not tonight when she just feels so tired. “Jess, you’ve been avoiding me since I got out of the hospital. Talk to me.”

“I have not.” She scoffs indignantly. Except she definitely has. Every time she’d see him in the hospital bed, guilt would eat her alive. Every time she watched as he struggled to sit up or twist in bed with agony marring his features, it tore at her heart. It wasn’t that she couldn’t deal with the guilt anymore; she’s more than used to a heavy heart. No, it was the fear that held her in its grip. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” She gathers the papers back into their proper folders shutting them. “In fact I was just heading to bed, so if you don’t mind.”

“Jess, I don’t blame you for what happened.” She swallows heavily, stopping all movement in their tracks. Her fingers find the end of the table clutching the edge until her knuckles turn white.

“Well maybe you should.” The words come out more defeated than she intends, her voice almost caving with the weight. She shuts her eyes trying desperately to stop the tears building. She hears him moving until he’s behind her; he rocks almost hesitantly. Her head bows with shame as she tries to gather herself once again. She’s played this scenario in her head every day since they’d learned he’d pull through. She’s practiced what she would say to break his heart all over again. But none of that prepared her for how much it would hurt.

The movement is all at once, a decision made that can’t be taken back. His hand grips her elbow, spinning her around to face him. Those eyes are what nearly break her. They’re so full of compassion and care that she does not deserve. Not after what she’d brought him into. None of this would have happened if she’d just kept up her boundaries.

“If I hadn’t been there that night-”

“I’d be dead.” He interrupts her without hesitation. “I was investigating Endicott regardless. Maybe that night I wouldn’t have been stabbed but he was coming after me next. He’d already taken care of Malcolm. He knew who was looking into him and he knew I was close.”

“If I had listened-”

“Then we wouldn’t have recorded evidence that could help in Ainsley’s case.” She huffs rolling her eyes, she absolutely hates it but he’s right. The recorded voice message, her attempt to call 9-1-1 after Gil was stabbed. Her phone became key evidence as soon as her purse was retrieved. It does not alleviate the pressure in her chest. “You are not the reason I got stabbed, Jess. You’re the reason I’m alive.” His hand comes up to cup her cheek and, god help her, she leans into his touch. He wipes away the stray tear that had escaped despite her attempts. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened.”

She scoffs bitterly, a crooked smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know if you’re talking about now or 20 years ago anymore.”

“Jess.” He sighs. “Everything that you have done has been to protect Malcolm and Ainsley.”

“And look where that’s gotten us.” She tries to pull from him, and he lets go. It’s only for a moment but it’s a vicious reminder. He’s not Martin, he’s not Nicholas. He will let her go if that’s truly what she wants. She places her hands on his chest, slowly. It’s not the soft, expensive sweaters Martin wore or the pressed suit of Nicholas. The turtleneck is rough to her standards. Everything opposite of what she’s known her whole life. Her hands continue to trail down his chest until it lands on the spot that’s haunted her nightmares.

“Jessica.” Her eyes flash back to him. “You are doing your best. Hell, I don’t know how you handle half the shit you do.” She opens her mouth to respond but he cuts her off. “And don’t joke about benzos from the 80s.” He cups her face again and she doesn’t pull away. His thumb strokes her cheek gently. “Do they slip sometimes? Yeah.” He laughs, likely recalling the no doubt numerous times Malcolm has thrown himself head first into danger. “But what he’s done, what Ainsley did? That wasn’t Martin. That was all you.”

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better.”

“You gonna let me finish?” She sighs but nods. “You know what they had in common?” She shakes her head, almost imperceivable. “They were protecting their family.”

“I can’t lose them.” Her eyes fall to the spot beneath his sweater where her hands still rests ever so gently. “I can’t-”

“Nobody’s losing anyone on my watch.” His hand covers hers, holding it to the place where he’d gotten stabbed. “And I’m not going anywhere.” His lips press against her forehead and she closes her eyes letting his words wash over her. Any desire to argue with him vanishes, an overwhelming sense of vulnerability floods her. It was something she hadn’t felt in 20 years and truthfully it nearly takes her breath away.

Oh. Oh god.

#jessica whitly x gil arroyo #prodigal son #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #gil arroyo x jessica whitly #take me back #fanfic #prodigal son spoilers #kinda #it's vague #doesn't this have a name

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

Text

Watch What Happens - Chapter 14

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Swearing

Words: 2,673

After breakfast and some passionate necking in the doorway, Arthur had left. As he’d disappeared into the elevator, he gave a playful but modest wave and smiled. Coincidentally, the next door neighbor had popped out to get her paper. When Y/N had greeted her, the woman had kept her eyes averted, muttered a quick, "Morning," then hurriedly went back inside.

At first Y/N had found it odd, but then it’d dawned on her. Maybe she needed to learn to keep her voice down.

Chuckling, she’d gone back into the apartment and the bedroom, considering changing the sheets. But, blushing happily, she’d left them alone. He would be over again that night; she’d been sure they'd wind up between them. Then she’d checked the sofa. She hated trying to launder upholstery and wasn't particularly good at it. Luckily, she hadn't seen anything that would have given away their activities - her robe had been in the way.

From the moment he was gone, she knew she was head over heels. Her eighty-seven percent certainty had increased to ninety-six over the course of their morning. He hadn't said much after they'd gotten up, but his actions touched her. After a little prompting, he'd poured coffee for them, then asked how she liked hers. He'd made it with one sugar and a shot of milk. (Seemingly nervous that he'd make it too white, he'd kept asking, "Is that enough?") Then he'd hovered next to her while she cooked. It'd already felt like he belonged there.

The speed with which the comfort of routine had developed between them was startling. In her past relationships, she'd taken things slowly. Jeff, her ex-husband, was someone she'd met as a sophomore in high school. He'd been a college freshman, studying pre-law. It had taken five months before they started dating. He was a good man - they exchanged Christmas cards every year, letting each other know they were still alive. But they'd gotten married only a month after she'd graduated, before she’d had a chance to develop her own identity.

Y/N decided the biggest distinction between then and the present was that she'd grown-up. Taking care of her father had forced her to mature quickly. She hadn't had time for other people's bullshit and had to figure out how to clearly say yes and no, something she'd struggled with until her late-twenties. She'd had to learn what she did and did not want.

Arthur, even the Arthur who'd been trembling and biting his nails on the couch with his Gotham Department of Health notebook, was what she wanted. It was surprisingly easy to like and love him, not only because he was handsome, kind, and most of what she’d experienced of him had been great. But also because she now knew herself.

Picturing him, while sitting at her desk and trying to work, made the corners of her lips turn up. Nervous excitement and plain happiness caused her to laugh quietly. She felt foolish. She hadn’t giggled like that since she’d been a teenager, lip-syncing badly to the radio with her sister.

She truly was trying to act professionally that morning. But at their usual mid-week meeting with Matt, Patricia passed her a note with the words, “You can’t stop smiling!” written on it. Y/N gave it back, feeling like a girl trying not to get caught by the teacher, with a heart, followed by two questions marks and an exclamation point.

Once the meeting ended, Patricia arched a brow at her. Y/N put her palm to her face, groaning. The note had been terribly out of character. “I just wanted to know what it was like to be girly. Once.” Her embarrassment had quickly faded, though, and she said, “I promise I’ll tell you everything tonight.”

The rest of work went by uneventfully, with her back to preparing the firm's family cases. They were a gallery of dysfunction. There had been a rise in children being taken from their parents due to substance abuse disorder after budget cuts had stopped their treatment. And there was a stack of protection from abuse orders, including pictures of bruises and other injuries. The occasional petty divorce filings were a nice break. She would sometimes reread the best complaints when she needed a chuckle. Though the work wasn’t difficult, by early afternoon she was exhausted and trying not to nod off at her desk.

She left early, then, and made her way to the Gotham Bureau of Corporations to try to find more information on Renew Corp. It turned out it had been registered as a limited liability corporation. As a result, their annual reports and registered agents were openly available. The photocopies she made cost her $2.35 at five cents a page. Sitting on the floor at her coffee table, she reviewed the reports. Most of them were about profits and projects, which didn't interest her. She already knew the addresses they were after. The list of registered agents intrigued her, though. She'd have to go over her plan with Patricia.

But first she had to figure out how to explain what she thought was happening in a way that didn't make her sound crazy. Who would believe that Gotham's largest philanthropic organization was responsible for a third-party harassing poor people instead of helping them? She'd find it hard to believe herself if she hadn't taken a closer look. But she was at a loss as to what other conclusion could be drawn.

~~~~~

When Y/N told Patricia her general theory, she'd been skeptical. But once the shoe boxes of letters tenants were getting were pulled out, Patricia's eyes widened. "You coming over here with the file was a risk," Y/N told her, putting the folder on the table. "It means a lot. I don't want you to do anything else that could get you in trouble."

Patricia shook her head. "I've been there forever. Matt won't ask questions. The only reason you got caught was your big mouth and bad luck."

Taking out a plate for the scones she’d picked up, Y/N smirked in response.

Patricia grabbed one of the pastries and took a bite. "Before we start work, I need to know what on earth is going on with you and this guy you're dating." Despite the exasperation in her voice, she looked amused. "You're glowing."

After putting on the kettle, Y/N boosted herself up on the counter next to the stove. She crossed her ankles. "His name's Arthur Fleck. He's a performer - he's sometimes a clown at the children's hospital. He’s an aspiring stand-up. I think he's a little older than me. Early to mid-forties?"

"This is the-" Patricia made air quotes "'-good looking pie guy,' right?" she asked. "How did you meet?"

Grinning, Y/N went into how they'd kept meeting serendipitously. That he was gentle with her, something she hadn't experienced much in her life. (Given her assertive personality, most people appeared to think she never wanted or needed it.) She flushed at the memories. "I think he's the last gentleman in Gotham. He holds the door open for me. He helps me with my coat." She wished he was there, right now, with his arm slung about her waist, hearing all the compliments she was giving him.

"We talk on the phone every night," Y/N continued, "and I look forward to those few minutes the whole day. He tells me jokes. Even when they're terrible, I love them." Shaking her head, she said, "He sometimes misunderstands what I say and doesn't know how to respond.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she breathed the rest. “He seems a little left footed with the world. But I’ve fallen in love with him, anyways."

It took a few seconds before Patricia spoke. "Already?"

Y/N folded her arms over her chest. "How long did it take before you knew you loved Robert?"

"I knew Robert and I were going to get married after our first date thirty years ago." Patricia stood and stretched her arms. "But sometimes I regret accepting his second invitation."

That prompted a snort from Y/N. "On our second date, I got wine-drunk and had a mini-breakdown on the sofa. Arthur didn't try to take advantage or leave. He just listened and tried to make me feel better."

The tea kettle started whistling, interrupting her train of thought. She hopped off the counter and started filling their cups. "I think the biggest thing we have in common is taking care of ailing parents - he cares for his mother." After sitting at the table, she dunked the teabag a few times. "It's rare to find someone who understands how hard that can be." A smile appeared on her face. "He gets it. He gets me. And I think I get him."

"Tell me three negative things about him," Patricia said.

Y/N cocked her head. "He smokes like a chimney - I don't know how he hasn't gotten cancer already. He's too unsure of himself." She scrunched up her face, remembering how he'd told her to leave after his mother had wounded him. "And he's too self-reliant. He thinks I don't notice, but I do."

Before asking her next question, Patricia took a long sip. "Have you slept with him?"

"Last night,” Y/N answered without hesitation. “This morning," She smirked. "I’m bone-tired, but hopefully tonight."

Patricia stared at her, then burst out laughing. "Jesus, Y/N."

Y/N cracked-up at her reaction, playfully smacking her arm. "Hey, I'm turning forty in April. If I see something I want, I'm going to grab it." She pointed at Patricia to emphasize what she said next. "And I can tell you, in his own words, he did not mind."

"Does he know how you feel?"

Y/N put down her teacup. "It's hard for me to open myself up. I'd shut that off for so long.” A sigh left her as she leaned back against the chair. “I know it doesn't make sense, but going to bed with him is easier than saying anything."

"He sounds like a decent man," Patricia said. "There aren't many in Gotham."

"There aren't many anywhere." After some silence, Y/N furrowed her brow. "He’s wonderful. But I can tell he has difficulties. Or at least he has in the past."

Patricia's eyebrows knit together. "Legal trouble?"

"No, nothing like that." Y/N adjusted her legs. How much information could she share without crossing a line? Maybe disclosing his affliction would be all right - he did have laminated cards he handed out. "He has a neurological condition that makes him laugh. It doesn't happen often, but I've seen it when he's nervous. It's been hard for him." She studied her tea, thinking of his notebook and all his medication.

And she felt shame, remembering how she'd shut him down like a coward when it'd seemed he was going to tell her everything.

"Do you want me to do a background check on him?" Patricia spoke quietly, her concern obvious.

Y/N waved the idea away. "No. There’s no reason.” Then she blushed. “I don’t even know why I told you. But," she smiled, "I appreciate you caring enough to ask." Pointing at the nearby folder, she said, “Now let’s get this over with so I can call him.”

They started on the file, then, sorting through the motions, writing down the day each one was filed with the court. Opening all the letters was a pain in the ass - Y/N was relieved she only got a couple of paper cuts. The dates on those were analyzed, too, and put onto a parallel list next to those of the filings. When they were finished, an hour or so later, they were able to confirm the motions and letters had started during the same time period.

Patricia sipped her tea, shrugging. "It could be a coincidence."

"Of course it could. That's why I got the list of registered agents with Renew Corp." Y/N got up and grabbed the reports she'd copied from the counter next to the stove. "I'm supposed to have the Wayne Foundation tax returns on Friday. I'll see if Renew Corp. is listed anywhere on there."

"Actually, I have a better idea." Patricia crossed her legs and indicated the reports with her pen. "The tax filings will have all the Wayne Foundation employees listed on one of the schedules. You can see if any of the names match the agents on the Renew reports."

Y/N leaned back against the counter. "I can't believe I didn't think of that." Frowning, she mentally went over the dates they’d written. “Did I see that a new motion was filed on Monday? Do you have it?”

“Yeah, we got our copy today. Why?” Patricia dug through the file until finding it, then handed it to her.

“When I looked through the file, nothing indicated a new motion was needed.” She started to scan it. It was a motion to amend the original filing, which meant addresses could either be added or taken off. This one added a few in order to, according to the summary, allow the building of an additional medical clinic wing. She didn’t recognize most of them: a residential building on Cortelyou Road, an empty lot on Sutter Avenue, a commercial area on Rockaway Boulevard. An apartment complex at 225a Anderson Avenue.

Her breath halted. 225a Anderson Avenue.

It made sense. Despite the heaviness forming in her stomach, and her inability to take in any air, it was perfectly logical. Ms. McPhee’s building was on the same block as Arthur’s, on a perpendicular street. Y/N closed her eyes, reaching back to grasp the counter.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Heat rose from Y/N’s shoulders, through her neck, to her face. “Arthur… Arthur’s address is included.” She held out the paper to Patricia. “How am I supposed to tell him?”

Standing, Patricia put her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “This is going to take months and months. And you’re trying to stop it.”

“I know, but-” Y/N started.

“Does he know the details of what you’re working on?” After Y/N shook her head, Patricia continued. “It’s not going to do any good to say anything.”

“I just told you I love him. How can I-”

The blaring sound of the phone interrupted her. After another couple rings, she went to grab the beige receiver from the wall next to the kitchen entrance. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Arthur."

Y/N checked the clock - it was after seven. He'd probably expected her to call by now. Pointing at the receiver, she turned around and looked at Patricia. "Arthur, I'm sorry I haven't called yet. I was just talking about you." She took a breath, trying to keep her voice from reflecting the anger simmering inside her. "Why don't you come over now? You can meet Patricia before she-"

His voice was strained when he interrupted her. "No. I can't. Is there anyway you can come to the hospital?"

That was unexpected. She felt worry cross her face. "Are you all right?"

"It's my mother. We just got here. I don't know what's wrong. There was an ambulance when I got home from..." His tone lowered, sounding a little embarrassed. "Can you please come? I don't understand all the paperwork." A pause, then. “I don’t mean to bother you.”

"You’re never a bother. I'll be right there. Which hospital?" Y/N watched as Patricia rose from her chair and started packing up the file she'd brought.

"Gotham General. In the emergency room," he answered.

"I'm on my way." She grabbed her coat and purse as she hung up. "Arthur's mother's in the ER. I gotta grab a cab."

Patricia took her jacket. "I brought my car. I'll take you."

Y/N gave Patricia a good, long hug, something she rarely did. "I owe you. Thank you for helping me."

"Anytime. Arthur's not the only one who's too self-reliant."

Y/N rolled her eyes at Patricia and squeezed her arm as she lead them both into the hallway, then locked the door.

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @clowndaddyfleck @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @invisiblewispofwhimsey @let-the-stars-fall-in-the-abyss

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (9/?)

AO3

The whistle blows just as Regina tosses the ball to the goal, and it sails past the keeper as her teammates are already packing up and the coach isn’t even looking. Last year, or hell, even a few months ago, she’d have been furious that no-one noticed or counted such a good shot; she’d have thrown her stick on the ground and probably screamed her head off until she got her way. But a lot happens in a year, and now she’s pulling her red vest off and shaking hands with the opposite team, other girls clapping her shoulder as they congratulate each other. What’s more, the smile on her face is real, despite her burning limbs and tangled hair. It’s the realest it’s been in a long while.

“Okay, good game girls,” their coach calls from the side of the field. “Go hit the showers before we go over the play. And George!” Regina turns around, greeted by the sight of her coach giving her the closest she can get to a smile. “Good game out there. Keep that up!”

Like her smile, the pride that flutters in her chest is real and it isn’t going to fade later on.

The changing room is already steaming up when she enters; towels thrown over the sides and mud-splattered uniforms crumpled on the benches. She’d laugh, but she doesn’t look much better. The weather’s been going downhill lately, making for some risky playing conditions, and the trail of mud across her shirt and caking her legs and nails are proof of that.

“Did I cause that?” Hannah asks, gesturing to Regina’s leg.

“Probably,” she replies with a grin. “You’re a little violent sometimes.”

“You’re one to talk, George,” she says. “You’re a beast out there.” Regina chuckles and turns on the tap, letting the hot water warm up her icy hands and get as much dirt as she can off her hands. Hannah isn’t wrong; her anger tends to manifest itself most when she’s on the field. But as she learned in physio, and from experience, it’s better to take it out on the sport than on the people around her. At least now, after a hard first few weeks, she’s learned how to channel it, rather than just playing while being angry. Which is why coming finishing off a game often makes her feel calmer and more in tune with herself than anything she’d tried before.

“Lucky she’s held onto that edge,” Kimberly comments, appearing at the sink beside her. “We need someone like that with championships coming up. Maybe that’s why we lost the last few years.”

“Or we just lost because you suck,” Hannah teases. Kimberly’s mouth falls into an ‘o’ and she flicks water in Hannah’s direction, right over Regina’s head. It’s practically nothing, especially when they’re so used to training in the rain, but Hannah takes it as though it was a speeding bullet and reaches for the other girl. “Little bitch.”

Regina slips into a free shower before the two of them can start a full-scale scrap. They’d surely ask her to take sides if she stuck around.

The hot water and steam is heaven for her rattled body, bringing life back into her limbs. The time is limited with the whole team needing to get in and notes to be given soon, but she makes the most of it. Even as the water scorches her scalp, it’s bliss to her, and she takes a minute to just stand there and let it hit her before grabbing her towel and heading back.

Sitting on the bench, she pulls her still-damp hair into a tight braid over her shoulder as they wait for the last of the team to come back out. The rain is letting up outside now and will probably be completely gone once they’re finished. Thank God, otherwise she’d definitely catch something walking home. Sure her mom could pick her up, she’s reminded her of that often enough, but she prefers walking. At least when she gets home she and her mom can have stuff to talk about rather than wasting it all in the car.

“Okay girls, listen up!” Coach Keller calls out as the last stragglers squeeze onto the bench or drop on the floor beside them. “Okay, we’re seeing a lot of improvements from the last time. There’s still a lot of work to be done vis-à-vis on-field communication. And some of you need to remember exactly what position you have on this team. Because too many times I have seen people changing mid-game.” There’s no prizes for who that’s directed at. Kimberly is already turning her head away.

“But we’ll be ready for when championships come around, and I’m expecting us to take home the trophy this year!” A cheer erupts from the bench and Regina’s right there with them. The idea of winning a trophy does do something for that competitive part of her brain, that can’t change, but the feeling she gets when her teammates scream out in united excitement does even more for her as a whole.

“Okay, okay settle down!” Coach calls above the noise, half laughing herself. Smiles are rare on that woman, which makes them even better. “And there’s one more item on the agenda to discuss before I let you girls go. I was talking to a buddy of mine recently and he gave me some information about a charity tournament coming up in the next few months. Now I know we don’t normally do friendlies, but I thought this year we could make an exception. The cause is cancer research.”

Regina can’t speak for the rest of them, but the word ‘cancer’ snaps her to attention and makes goosebumps prickle on her skin. Sure enough, the noise quietens down as the girls grow serious, which is something in itself. These girls often act like the word ‘serious’ doesn’t apply to them. Regina pulls her jacket tighter around herself as Coach’s next words confirm everything.

“I know you’re all missing a classmate this year,” she goes on. Regina wonders if she’s imagining how her voice wavers. “And it might mean a lot if we went and did this.” She bends her head enough so they won’t see the smirk on her face. This wouldn’t mean a lot to Janis. Not that she wouldn’t care; she simply wouldn’t get that sentimental. Not publicly anyway. She bets Janis will respond to this with nothing more than finger guns and the phrase ‘cool beans’. “So if we all rally to this, we could raise a lot of money for a good cause. And it would be good to put in the extra training.”

The team chuckles at that and then Coach lets them go with the reminder that they’ll be here again same time next week and to drive safe.

“What do you guys think of that?” Hannah asks as they all get up. They seem to instinctively form a little huddle as they walk, something else she hadn’t seen in her old friendships. Until recently, there was always a structured hierarchy with Karen and Gretchen, as opposed to the natural way she falls in step with the team.

“I think it sounds great,” another teammate, Zoey, adds. “I mean, it would be great anyway, but especially, you know… with Janis.” A murmur of agreement passes around them.

The first time they heard about Janis, it took a second for Regina to process it. The whole idea seemed so bizarre that it didn’t really hit her until she got home. How heartless she must have looked. Karen was close to tears in homeroom and Gretchen had looked pale, like she was the one ill, so she had stepped up. Done what she had always done. Taken charge of them.

The collective student body has gathered around her. For a few days, any and all mentions of cancer were met with hushes and raised eyebrows, as though it were something taboo. Now they can at least mention it and it’s become synonymous with wide eyes and sighs of sympathy. It’s still hard to talk about, and not just for her.

“What do you think about it, Regina?” Hannah asks, nudging her with her elbow.

“Hm?” She pulls on the strap of her bag. “Oh, yeah. I’m totally for it. That would be awesome.”

“Have you spoken to Janis? Like, at all?”

“Spoken to her?” she repeats.

“Yeah, I mean aren’t you and her-” Kim stops, but Regina can work it out for herself. The answer is no, of course. She and Janis aren’t friends, everyone knows that. Karen and Gretchen are friends with Janis. Regina is friends-miraculously-with Cady, and Cady is dating Janis. That’s their connection. It was different once upon a time, but then it fell apart.

Fell, she thinks. As if she didn’t pull it apart herself.

She pulls her sleeves over her hands and wraps her arms around her body, fully aware of the number of eyes on her. Contrary to popular opinion, she’s never really liked this much attention. Not even when it was her perfection being looked at, but especially not when it’s her flaws.

It takes a while, but she manages to say, “no I haven’t really spoken to her”. Her voice catches in her throat and she can only hope she manages to sound normal to everyone else. She clears her throat and tries again, trying to find that confident part of herself. Or at least, tries to fake it well enough.

“That kid Damian has though,” she continues. “He’s really close with her. He said she’s doing great.”

The faces before her break out into relieved smiles and she can calm down.

She walks the last stretch of road to her house alone, the few people who live in her direction having disappeared down their streets a while ago. While the topic of conversation had quickly changed, Regina’s mind hadn’t managed to wander away from Janis.

She’s thought about her a lot since Spring Fling. She guesses she thought about her before that, but she always pushed it down, along with all that gross guilt she was feeling. It was far easier to be cruel back then. Until it wasn’t.

At the dance, she could tell Janis was having a lot more fun than she was. Spinning in careless circles with her hair flying all around her, busting out the worst dance moves she had ever seen, twirling Karen around the floor, slinking off to a corner with Cady and coming back holding her hand. She had been glowing, well and truly glowing, something she hadn’t seen since middle school. Not looking over her shoulder for something, or someone to take it all away from her.

And somehow, Regina ended up smiling at it. Janis deserved that, after all.

That was the beginning of the end for her. The end of her reign over North Shore and the end of her being… that way. It was a long time coming. She meant what she said to Cady in the bathroom that night. She’d had enough of being the Queen Bee. She’d hoped they’d all go into senior year with clean slates for the future.

She should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. Even if things were normal for Janis, that wouldn’t be the case. She hurt her, plain and simple. Hurt her in the deepest, worst possible way and the worst part is she didn’t even realise she was doing it, not completely.

Her mom is sitting at the kitchen table when she gets in, a glowing mirror propped up on a stand and dozens of lipsticks strewn across the table. She puckers her lips as Regina approaches her and sets her back on the table, the pink glistening underneath the overhead light.

“Oh hi baby,” she greets. “How was school? How was practice? You need me to wash your gear for you?”

“School was fine, practice was fine.” Her mom abandons the lipsticks in a second and is by her side and picking up her bag before she can protest. She has to lunge forwards in order to grab it back off her.

Breathe she tells herself. A lot of this change stuff is a constant effort.

“Um, it’s okay, Mom,” she says. “I can do it myself.”

“Oh, only if you’re sure sweetie, I don’t want you straining yourself after practice. Besides, with this new job I have plenty of time to do your laundry for you, also I can rearrange your closet for you because it’s looking a little-”

“Mom!” she snaps. She shakes her head, her mom freezing where she is. “It’s okay, really. I’d prefer to wash it myself.” She cracks a smile and after a moment, reaches out and puts her hand on her mom’s shoulder. It’s the most natural-feeling thing she could do. “Besides, remember what happened last time you washed my lacrosse stuff? It’s best they go in on their own.”

“Well, if you’re sure honey.” Her mom’s eyes follow her around the room, no doubt thinking she’s being subtle. “Do you need a snack? I can whip up those little baby quiches you like so much after practice.”

“That’d be great, Mom, thanks.”

Her mom breaks into a smile that’s as relieved as the girls on the team were when she told them about Janis. Regina sits herself on the counter, shakes out her hair and runs her brush through it. She watches her mom buzz around the place, looking to her for approval when she places three mini quiches on the tray.

“Are you sore hon?”

“Not really. I will be tomorrow, probably.” She rubs her shoulder, feeling the onset already. It’s a good kind of pain though, if there ever was one. It means she actually went and did something.

Silence stretches between them, echoing off the white walls and the chrome of the kitchen. It demands to be filled with something real, not the nonsensical babble her mom likes to fill the empty spaces with. It’s not that she’s short of things to say, but it’s like everything else she’s started lately; a learning curve. She wants to take the steps, but the steps feel more like strides.

“So Coach thinks we have a shot at championships this year.”

“Oh, that’s exciting,” her mom says. “So you’d be playing then?”

“That’s the plan.”

“So when do they start?” she asks. “I want to be able to take the time off work to see you.”

“You don’t… You don’t have to. Not if it’s too hard.”

“Oh don’t be silly, I wouldn’t miss your games. That’s something lame moms would do.” She throws up a peace sign and an exaggerated wink. “And I’m a cool mom, right hon?”

“Yep,” she says through gritted teeth. They may be trying to rebuild their relationship, but that doesn’t mean that the idea of her mom at her lacrosse games doesn’t make her cringe. The image of her mom sitting in the stands with her fur coat and her sunglasses and her loud voice pops into Regina’s head and she’s glad her mom is turned away so she can’t see her shudder.

“There’s this other tournament she asked us about,” she goes on. “It’s a friendly one. For charity.”

“Oh, well that’s nice. What’s the charity?”

She takes a swing out of her water before answering.

“Cancer research.”

“Oh.” Her mom nods, the movement just as big as everything else she does and her mouth opens without a word coming out. Regina avoids her eyes. “Is that because of poor Janis?”

“Yeah. Well, she knows the person organising it and she thought it would be good.” She drums her nail on her thigh. “But I think it might be a little because of Janis.”

“Oh, it’s just awful what happened to her, isn’t it?” her mom asks. Regina can only nod. She doesn’t even notice her mom moving until she’s standing right in front of her, eyes full of sadness and a heavy pout on her lips. “How are you holding up with this?”

“Fine.”

“Oh honey, you don’t have to pretend to me. I mean, she’s your friend, isn’t she?”

“Sort of,” is her answer. It’s easier than the truth is in any case. Her mom never knew about what went down in middle school. She probably never will. “I heard from her other friends that she’s doing pretty well.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She picks up a kitchen towel and moves towards the oven. “You know, I was actually reading this article about teenage cancer on my tablet, and it was saying it’s about all these greenhouse gases in the air. You should go on Twitter and talk about that. Start a whole conversation over it. You have a lot of followers over there. They’d listen to you. Get the President on your side.”

“He blocked me,” she replies. She crosses her arms over her chest and smirks at that. As for her mom, she lets out a long sigh and shakes her head.

“And she’s such a nice girl too. She doesn’t deserve that. Not that anyone does, obvs.” She turns and looks at Regina with more severity than she’s ever seen in her life. “You be careful, okay?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Her mom squeezes her hand and Regina realises why she’s making such an effort in the first place.

“Okay, can you keep an eye on the mini quiches? I have to go finish up over there if I want to get everything in on time. They come out when it says 20 on the little clock.”

“Cool. Thanks mom.”

Her mom squeezes her face, and for her sake, she fights the instinct to roll her eyes and bat her hands away. It actually feels pretty nice.

When she pulls out her phone, the team chat is already popping off. Someone shared a-admittedly funny- meme. Amidst all the chaos, someone posted the details of the charity tournament. It starts in January, with quite a few other schools already signed up. She’s glad they’re doing it, and that everyone else is so onboard with it. Sure, they all have at least one personal stake in it, but it would feel good to do it either way.

She moves out and checks her other messages. The chat she’s in with Cady, Damian, Gretchen, Karen and Janis was alive just minutes ago, Karen asking their opinion on a skirt. Janis had sent in a message saying she liked it and joked around with everyone else, calling Damian a king and shamelessly flirting with Cady. Regina pushes away the feeling that she missed out and tells herself Janis must be feeling good today if she’s active.

A message Regina sent to her still sits in their private chat, unopened and unanswered. Their chat is almost barren and she’ll admit the reasons for it are good. But she had felt optimistic that day when she texted her. Naïve even, for the first and last time in her life. There’s still a lot of work to be done, but she actually wants to do it.

*****

Her legs do hurt the next day. She feels it the minute she wakes up and it follows her around throughout the day. She gets understanding smiles and eye rolls from the girls on the team, though, and Karen and Gretchen wince along with her in sympathy. And she’s almost gotten used to it, so she can only take it in stride for the rest of the day and curse the new warm-ups Coach gave them.

She’s walking down the stairs to free period when she spots a bundle of caramel-coloured curls a little ahead of her, falling over a denim jacket, and suddenly her palms get sweaty. People might not believe it, but she’s capable of being scared, or at least nervous. Even of sweet and soft little Cady Heron. She doesn’t slow down, she never does, but she does consider it. Instead she keeps going and watches as Cady perks up as she passes her.

“Hey,” she greets, slipping her phone into her pocket.

“Hi.”

Regina’s pretty fascinated by her relationship with Cady. Next to Janis, Cady is probably the person she’s done the most harm to. After all, she got suspended for the Burn Book. It should have been her. That fact was one of the hardest to take responsibility for, but it should have been her suspended. Now who knows what could happen to Cady. Cady has every right to hate her, and yet she has gone out of her way to integrate their two worlds. She lets Regina sit with her at lunch and added her into the groupchat and lets her see her private story (it’s just pictures of her with animals from Kenya). Even outside of lunchtime and groupchats, she treats Regina like she would any old friend. There’s no hostility or distrust on her end.

It’s weird.

“Hey, did you get that American Lit essay back yet?” she asks. “Because Mr Greer takes forever to hand them back.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t given me mine back either,” she sighs. “I don’t know. I think I did okay in it. It wasn’t that hard.”

“Seriously? I thought it was so hard,” Cady responds, pulling her bag up on shoulder. “I’ll never get all this literature stuff. There’s just so many meanings and stuff. It’s why I prefer math.”

“Yeah, because you’re good at calc,” Regina says. Her chest eases the longer they speak. “I’m sure you did fine, though.”

“Thanks.” She drums her fingers on her file as silence falls between them. Not even Cady can keep up conversation forever, especially if there’s not a third party here to bounce off of. There normally is, and the space next to her feels distinctly empty.

The lack of talking suddenly gets to Regina as she looks down the long stretch of hallway they have to go to study hall, and panic stirs up in her brain, forcing her to blurt out the first thing that comes to her head.

“So, um, we might be doing this charity tournament,” she says. “The lacrosse team, I mean.”

“Oh,” Cady says, her mouth falling into a small ‘o’ before she smiles. “Hey that’s really cool. What’s the charity? Or are you allowed to say anything about that yet? I know how exclusive the jocks can be.”

“I’m not a jock,” she says indignantly, only for Cady to laugh and bump her shoulder against hers.

“Well, you know what I mean,” she says. “Sports person. You guys are like your own little society.”

“The one clique you couldn’t break,” she says.

“Yeah.”

Regina presses her palms together, nervous and unable to understand why. Surely Cady would love this, right? It’s her girlfriend who has…

Oh. She gets why now. Even now, when ‘cancer’ isn’t treated as a dirty word, it’s still so charged with meaning, especially around Cady and Damian. On more than one occasion, conversation has died down when they enter the room and they know what they had been talking about. It’s not out of disrespect, but out of concern for their feelings. That’s why she’s biting the inside of her cheek now. Tiptoeing around such a delicate subject and hoping she doesn’t break Cady by doing so.

“It’s cancer research,” she says after a while. Her voice is as cheerful as she can make it, hiding all the tremors and cracks that might appear and show what’s underneath. She subtly watches Cady’s movements, anticipating the slightest twitches or changes one way or the other.

The first is her lips pressing together. The second is a tight nod. The third is her hand flexing at her side.

“Oh, that’s cool,” she says. “That’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” she replies. “I mean, we don’t usually go charity tournaments or friendlies, but Coach thought it might be good for us. You know, extra training and all that. Plus it’s you know, a good cause.”

“Yeah.” Her voice sounds so lost and faraway for a girl standing right beside her that it almost makes Regina grind to a halt. She clears her throat and turns to face her, her smile open and breathless and real. That’s something she likes about Cady, always has. She’s real. Even when it would be easier to hide it, she’s real. “That’s great. I mean… I take it it’s because of Janis.”

“Yeah.” Janis’ name hits Regina in the chest like a little bee sting, not unbearable, but noticeable and she knows it will be there for the rest of the day.

“That’s awesome.” Cady’s eyes shine with gratitude. “She’ll be really happy to hear that.”

“Sure just don’t tell her I’m doing it,” she says flatly. “Then she’ll think it’s a scheme.”

“Oh come on,” she laughs. “You two aren’t nearly as bad as you used to be. And maybe when she hears about you doing this, she’ll warm up to you even more.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” she tells her. Which is both another thing she admires her for and something she’s fascinated by.

Cady simply shrugs.

“Well, you know how it is,” she says. She doesn’t, but she nods along. “You’re not such a bad little egg.”

“Thanks?”

Cady opens her mouth, probably to say something else, but her hand flies to her back pocket and all at once her attention is diverted to her phone. She does a quick check of the hallway, knowing they’re not meant to have their phones out during school hours. Regina had her phone confiscated countless times before she knew how to hide it properly. Cady has yet to master that and so she pulls her to the side and blocks her phone with her shoulder, pulling her arm down so it’s less visible. Cady doesn’t seem to notice at all, her eyes glued to the phone screen and her whole face softening at whatever it was. Regina doesn’t look at it. Whatever it is, it’s obviously not for her. Cady taps out a quick response, fingers flying over the keyboard and stops to proofread it before sending it off.

They stand in the silence together, Cady’s phone casting the smallest bit of light on her face and wait until the screen fades to black.

“Cady?” Regina asks.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine,” she says, putting her phone back in her pocket and looking back up at her. “It was Janis.”

“I guessed,” she says, pulling Cady along. Feeling brave, she asks “How’s she doing?”

“Oh, she’s good. She just sent me a selfie of her in the hospital,” she says. There’s a small, wistful sigh after it, and her hand reaches up to twirl her necklace. “She looked cute.”

“That’s good,” she says. “That she’s doing okay. Would you uh… tell her I was asking about her?”

“Oh, sure! Yeah absolutely!” There’s the slightest hint of surprise in her tone, but Regina can’t complain about it, instead nodding gratefully and the two of them setting off down to study hall, picking up the pace a bit so that they’re not even later than they already are.

*****

That evening, she comes downstairs clad in her leggings and a sweater, the rain picking up on the window and her phone buzzing in her sweater pocket. Her mom is laying on the couch and running a sparkly pink brush through the dog’s hair humming some old, dreamy song under her breath.

“Hey sweetie!” she says, her voice melodic. “How’s the homework going?”

“Fine. Just getting some coffee.”

“Oh would you make me one too?” she asks. “Just a little cappuccino. If I get up Boba might pee.”

“Sure.” She keeps one eye on her phone and one on the coffee maker, watching the groupchat as she foams up the milk. It’s the one of her, Cady and the rest of her friends, and most importantly, Janis is active in it. She was always the life of the chat before, keeping them up at two am with some wild theory or weird joke, but they’ve all noticed how she’s sort of wavered since this year started. Not tonight though. Tonight she’s so alive that Regina almost forgets how silent she can be some days.

Janis: I wonder which one of us will break first and get TikTok.

Janis: To be perfectly candid, my money is on Damian.

Janis: Damian’s gonna be on theatre kid TikTok.

Damian: I am disgusted by the very idea. It could well be Regina. She seems dramatic enough for it. No offence, babe.

Followed by a kissing emoji off all things. With a grin and a laugh, Regina grinds the coffee beans and gets out two mugs before sending in an ‘In all of your dreams’. She means it. Instagram and Twitter are more than enough for her and frankly, TikTok kind of scares her.

The phone buzzes again, this time a picture from Janis; a picture of fries and what are probably vegetarian nuggets.

Dinner for tonight 😊 she says They finally got veggie nuggets :D

That’s an overabundance of emojis Cady says.

No it’s not. It’s perfect Karen argues. She adds that the dinner looks puppy emoji plus sparkle emoji, which must mean good. Anyone can tell that.

It is Janis tells them. They took on my suggestion to expand their vegetarian menu.

You’d think as a hospital they’d already know how to do that Regina says. There’s a ten second pause before anyone responds and she tries not to let it bother her, pouring the milk into the two cups instead.

You would think Janis responds. I got like three people in the ward on my side.

Vive la revolution, Cady adds in, with an emoji of a French flag. Damian responds with a GIF from Hamilton and Regina can feel them rolling her eyes along with her.

Miss Caddy don’t you have homework to do? Janis asks. Actually don’t answer that because I know you do since you were complaining about it to me two minutes ago.

I’m all finished Cady says. Janis’ response is a screenshot of a text Cady sent her two minutes before according to the timestamp.

“Oh, you’re in trouble, Cady Cady,” Regina mutters as she sprinkles cinnamon and chocolate over both mugs and takes them over to her mom. They’re pretty good, especially with her lack of barista skills. Definitely going on her story.

“Oh thanks hon,” her mom says. When her phone buzzes in her hand, both her mom’s and her dog’s head perk up. “Anything interesting?”

“Just my friends,” she says. Her mom nods, taking a long sip.

“Oh, this is real good, Regina.” Regina nods again and snaps a few pictures of her own mug, testing out about four or five angles and two filters before settling on one that works. She probably would have gone through more if Janis hadn’t sent in another message into the chat, so she saves it to work on later.

Lies. I know those are lies, she says. The veggie nuggets aren’t as good as the ones at home ☹

I’m sure that’s the saddest part about your current situation, Regina says. Once she says it, she wonders if a line was crossed. If not, no-one tells her.

If someone were to drop a bag of Grandma Eden’s vegan nuggets to the front desk and say it was for me, I would not be opposed, Janis says instead. To be honest, kind of offended about the lack of PTA moms dropping casseroles on the doorstep.

The chat keeps going, the phone shaking and lighting up in her hand, but it melts away from her, Janis’ message sticking out to her. Out of nowhere, she remembers her mom making lasagnes for her aunt when she was sick a few years ago and dropping it off on her doorstep. Regina never went with her, the idea of seeing her sick aunt making her stomach uneasy, but she remembers her mom doing twice the cooking she normally did. And how happy it made her aunt’s family, according to her mom. She didn’t appreciate the value of it back then, it’s crystal clear now.

“Hey, mom,” she says after a while. “Could I… could I maybe use the kitchen at some point?”

“Oh sure. What do you need it for?”

She looks back at the group chat, the topic having changed to Cady’s love of math and the other’s lack thereof, but she scrolls back up a few messages.

“Do we have any vegetarian recipes?” she asks.

*****

Her arms are aching by the time she gets to the Sarkisian’s house on Saturday. This is what she gets for using the nicest-and heaviest- dish her family owns, she supposes. Standing on their doorstep, she awkwardly shifts it onto her arm, her breath catching as it tilts before steadying, and reaches out to ring the doorbell. She presses it quickly, not leaving herself enough time to change her mind.

She won’t deny that her heart clenches as the handle turns, even if she masks it behind her charming smile. The same one she’s used with almost every adult since she was fourteen.

“Hey, Mr Sarkisian,” she greets. A kind of polite confusion clouds Mr Sarkisian’s face, which swiftly turns to recognition, and then even more confusion.

“Regina?” he asks. “Regina George.”

“Mm-hm.” Thank God she’s practiced this over and over before she came. “I made you guys a lasagne. Could I come in?”

He eyes the dish in her hands like she’d just told him she was dropping off a baby wildebeest for Janis. But he nods and steps back, letting her into the hallway.

It hasn’t changed much since she was here last. The hallway is still the same at least, although there are now photos of the Janis she wasn’t friends with. Her at the middle school graduation, her on the beach what must be the summer after freshman year, her with her parents and Damian at last year’s art show. Regina’s watching her old friend grow up before her eyes, looking through a window at everything she missed.

“Oh, you redecorated!” she exclaims as they step into the kitchen. She remembers the walls here being white as opposed to the blue they are now, plus there’s a new oven and fridge and kitchen table. She must remember more than she thought she did. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah. We did.”

His flat tone pulls Regina down a bit. More than a bit, although she refuses to let it show. If there’s one thing she has learned, it’s that. She knows how to put on an act, and so she turns to face Mr Sarkisian with the same smile plastered onto her face. He just continues to look at her with an unreadable expression and stands as far away from her as he can, all the while the ticking clock punctuates the silence between them.

“So um, I made you this lasagne,” she tells him.

“You did?” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean I got a little help with it; you know how it is. My mom refused to let me fool around in the kitchen alone. But it’s my grandma’s recipe. It’s vegetarian, because… I mean I know; Janis is one.”

Is this babbling? Is she babbling right now?

“Janis isn’t here.” He folds his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Oh.. I know,” she says. “I know, but just in case you want to give her some when she gets back. It’ll keep for a good while if you freeze it.”

He pushes himself away from the counter and moves over to her. It’s getting harder to maintain this demeanour, what with the suspicion she can see in his eyes from here. He does at least take the dish out of her hands and she doesn’t bother hiding her sigh of relief as she shakes out her arms.

He slides it carefully into the fridge and turns to look at her, his arms over his chest. He isn’t playing by the script Regina had prepared. She assumed he’d either see her out or get her a drink and invite her to sit down. Instead he regards her like she’s an interrogation suspect. And her gut tells her he’s being bad cop.

“Why did you do this?” he asks her.

“Oh, I… I just thought it would be nice.” Honesty isn’t her strong suit. Neither is vulnerability and those are the two things he’s likely expecting from her. Unfortunately, she still has the fatal flaw of pride. “And if there’s anything else your family needs, you can ask me.”

He coughs, but it sounds suspiciously like a laugh. She presses her palms together and continues.

“I mean the whole school is getting behind Janis,” she goes on. “The lacrosse team is doing this charity tournament and the Mathletes-”

“Janis isn’t a charity,” he tells her sharply. His hand curls around the counter and holds it tight enough to turn his knuckles white. A nerve apparently got touched here.

“Okay...” She clears her throat and pushes her hair off her shoulder. “I just wanted to help.”

“Yeah you helped Janis a lot back in middle school,” he says. He locks eyes with her and a chill runs down her spine. “Didn’t you?”

She opens her mouth, but then closes it again, knowing there’s nothing to say here. Her first instinct is to call him rude, tell him she went and made him and his family a lasagne and offered him help. But thankfully it fades before she can act on it, and the truth stares her in the face. She deserved that. She deserves the anger in his gaze towards her and the feeling of invisible ants crawling over her skin.

She pulls her sleeve over her hands and clenches her fists tightly.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is pathetically small and it comes out as more of a question than an admission. Mr Sarkisian nods slowly, his fingers tapping against the counter. She could tell him that she’s trying, that she does regret what she did, but she’s pretty sure it won’t make a difference to him.

“Thank you for the lasagne,” he tells her. There’s more honesty in that than in anything she’s said so far. “I’ll tell Janis you came by.”

“She might not eat it if you do,” she says quietly.

He laughs at that, even if it’s half-hearted.

She gets the bus back home, finding a route on her phone that goes to the top of her street. Luckily, she has change in her purse, because she’s certain that she wouldn’t have the guts to ask Mr Sarkisian for some after what just happened.

His words follow her around like a persistent little bee that buzzes in her ear. She wants to dismiss him as a dick, but unfortunately, despite the work still needed, she can’t find it in her to do it. A lot of the time, she wishes she could just wake up an effortlessly good person. Other times she wishes she was still a bitch.

She sits down heavily on the bench and takes out her phone, tapping open Facebook (thank God for infinite data). It’s not really for the app, she just wants to focus on something. Her feed is mostly full of shit she saw on Instagram last week; mirror selfies, heads of clubs promoting their events, those idiotic memes her mom likes to post. It flies past her eyes in a blur and lets her brain turn foggy for a few moments.

But then out of all the black and white and blue, something catches her eye and she scrolls back up. It was shared by Caitlyn Caussin, advertising some hair salon. She wondered why the hell that would catch her eye, until she realised that’s not what it was. It was a charity, one where you donate your hair for cancer victims.

Regina keeps looking at the ad, so captivated by it that she would have missed the bus if the driver hadn’t honked at her. She looks at it closer as she rides home, her gut pulling her towards it. According to the text on the poster, you need at least 8 inches of undyed hair, and she’s glad when she sees she ticks both boxes. And then it’s shipped off to wigmakers and given to cancer patients. And if the grinning kid in the picture is anything to go by, it does its job well.

Regina touches her own hair. Up until now you’d have to kill her if you wanted her to cut any of her hair off. After all, something like this doesn’t just happen and she would not look good with a bob. But this feels different and she won’t pretend she doesn’t know why. She won’t get up and do it tomorrow, but she won’t completely dismiss the idea either.

She takes a screenshot of it and feels a small flush of excitement as she thinks about it. Well, not excitement, but something close to it. Something warm and light and fuzzy that she can’t quite pin down.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis ff #janis sarkisian #regina george #fic: heart of stone #mean girls

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doof-doofblog · 3 years

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"I Can't Believe It!"

Tuesday 10th November 2020

(Part 2)

Hello again folks! Hope your week is going well so far. Today's blog is going to be reviewing the second episode which aired on Tuesday evening. The first part ended with a big cliff-hanger where Rainie asked Tiffany to be a surrogate for her and Stuart. Will Tiffany agree? I'm certain the majority of you are well ahead compared to me, but I hope you'll enjoy reading this blog regardless.

Anyway, let's jump right into. The episode begins with Tiffany, Rainie and Stuart in the Café. This clearly looks to be the day after Rainie asked Tiffany the biggest favour of her life. Stuart and Rainie are eager to hear whether Tiffany has made a decision on whether to be their surrogate. Tiffany admits she still hasn't come to a decision as she admits that there's a lot to take into consideration. It's understandable that she'd be worried about Keegan also and what he'd say. I mean, £10,000 is a lot of money, Tiffany and Keegan would be able to make such a good life for themselves with that money, how could she say no?! Plus she'd be giving a couple something they've always wanted, don't they deserve to be parents? As Rainie and Tiffany are discussing the situation, Keegan makes his way into the Café, he briefly acknowledges Stuart, but Stuart can barely look him in the eye and leaves without saying a word. Keegan looks instantly suspicious, why would Stuart avoid him like that?! As Rainie follows Stuart out of the Cafe, Keegan approaches his wife and asks basically what is going on and mentions how weird Stuart acted towards him. He questions whether it was because they were still angry about Rainie's accident, but Tiffany assures her husband that that's not the case, she then feels like she has to come clean, he'll only find out eventually, so it's probably best if she tells him now, it's then she admits the truth that they've asked her to be a surrogate for them.

Meanwhile, Denise has taken young Raymond to the park, it's incredibly sweet how she's trying to bond with her son. It's understandable why the boy is so shy and timid, he's been swooped into a new environment and - as far as I know - has no idea where his Nan or parents or siblings are, how can a young boy his age understand what's going on. Denise is unknown to him, she's just this lady who has taken him in, but of course he's not going to know that she's his Mum, and probably won't know for a long time. I love how Denise is so gentle with him, talking to him even though he doesn't respond. As she's talking to the young boy, Jack turns up as he's running through the park. Even though they have split up, they remain friendly as Jack asks how little Raymond is getting on, Denise confirms that he's settling in slowly but he still doesn't talk very much, she mentions that she's going to take him to a specialist just to see if it'll help as she doesn't feel ready to put him into a nursery yet. Jack mentions perhaps he could socialise with other children - which I think would be a brilliant idea, the amount of children on the Square, I'm sure it wouldn't be long until he made friends. Maybe Denise might let him play with other children eventually?

At the undertakers, Keegan is livid about what the Highway's have asked of his wife. He accuses Stuart of wanting to sleep with his 17 year old wife (Also I had no idea that Tiffany was just 17! I thought she was at least 19/20!) ... Anyway, Stuart and Tiffany both reassure Keegan that Stuart wouldn't have to sleep with her for her to carry a baby, Stuart confirms that it's all done in lab, and the baby biologically would be Stuart and Rainie's, they simply just need someone to carry the baby for them, someone they trust. Everything would be above board and legal. Keegan sighs as he seems to understand everything but he informs Stuart that they're going to have to find someone else - the next line I didn't really like the sound of "My wife's body is not for rent!" - I'm amazed how Keegan can even see it like that! Like seriously, how does his brain work?! Tiffany would be doing a wonderful act for a couple who can't conceive and who are desperate to have a child, I think it's probably the most honourable thing you could do for someone. Tiffany is speechless as her husband walks out leaving Stuart devastated.

Meanwhile on the Square, Phil walks past Kat on her stall, and once again she's winding him up as she's still wearing his West Ham football shirt. Phil has had enough of her games and tells her to give him his top back. But I love how Kat winds up him up even more, questioning whether she should take her own clothes off or strip Phil of his clothes. As Phil walks up to her she warns him not to come any closer as she will scream, but Phil doesn't believe as the closer he gets, she warns him further and further. Suddenly she lets out this blood curling scream for the whole Square to hear. The only thing is, as she screams, Denise can be seen walking down the street with young Raymond - has she seen everything? Something tells me that she is going to completely get the wrong end of the stick. She'll question as to why Kat was screaming as she won't believe Phil's side of the story and stop him from seeing Raymond.

At the Atkins household, Shirley is watching as Gray finishes a phone call with Karen. He reveals to her that Karen wants to meet up with him in the park. Shirley believes it's a good thing and that he should, it's been quite a while since he's seen his children. She persuades him that the children should be back living with him, but Gray seems to think that they're better off with the Grandparents. It's then Shirley tells him of her experience being a Mother, she still believes that she hasn't been the best parent, even though she thought she was doing the best for her children. But she does give Gray some really good advice, the longer he leaves it the harder it'll get.

Back out on the Square, Stuart approaches Keegan on his sandwich stall and tries to apologise. He describes that he and Rainie are like kids in a sweet shop once they get an idea in their head. Stuart acknowledges that Keegan has had it tough the past few months regarding the death of his sister, Chantelle and him trying to make a name of himself. It looks like that they both have a mutual understanding with each other and Keegan admits that it just feels weird for him knowing that - to put it politely - a part of Stuart is going to be inside his wife. Suddenly Tiffany approaches them and I can totally understand what she's saying her husband. She tells Keegan that the way he is speaking about her is awful, it's her body and she can do what she likes - why is it that he's making the decisions? And she is telling the truth, Tiffany hasn't even given them an answer yet, it's a though Keegan is making the decision for her, when it actual fact, it's completely up to her at the end of the day. Keegan apologises to his wife and she tells him that she actually does in fact like Stuart and Rainie and part of her does want them to be happy and have a family. She tells her husband that £10,000 could change their lives! She pleads to him to just sit down and talk/think it through, Keegan once again takes another big sigh and promises he'll think it through, for his wife's sake, he says that he'll try and support her and stand beside her, but at the end of the day she will be the one that's giving birth ... I don't understand why that's such a big deal, babies are born every day! Women give birth every day! The human body is an incredible thing and what a woman's body goes though is astonishing, being able to carry a tiny human for 9 months and then give birth is a wonderous thing. There shouldn't be anything fearful about it ... BUT ... (And my mind has gone a completely 1-80 here!) - What if something tragic happens during the birth and Tiffany dies in childbirth? What if there are complications with the pregnancy?! As much as this story could be beautiful, I do (Now) have a feeling that something tragic could happen.

Returning to Denise at home, she appears to be on the phone to someone, a specialist I'm assuming? It looks like she's trying to get help of trying to build a bond with her young son. She's trying to get through to them and trying to explain that she's his birth Mother and the poor boy has no idea who she is. It looks like she's pleading for someone to help her whilst she's trying explain the situation. I do feel for Denise, she's trying her absolute best to support and be there for her son, but of course he's been through something traumatic and everything he once knew has all gone. It's hard for a little boy his age to understand completely what's going on or what's happening. I'm hoping in time, he'll come to open up to Denise and eventually they'll be able to build a bond with each other.

At home, Tiffany looks as if she's watching birthing videos online - which is probably not the best idea. Labour and giving birth is a different experience for every woman. Some have really easy births, some have it a lot harder - it simply depends on the baby. But of course watching videos like that are going to terrify her and perhaps scare her into going through with it. Outside on the Square, Mitch finds his son in a world of his own. In not so many words, Keegan tells his father that he and Tiffany are having a disagreement - I kind of liked the way they were describing things by magic and pulling rabbits out of a hat - it was quite a clever take on things. Mitch sits along side his son and gives him some really good fatherly advice, he asks Keegan whether he has heard of the phrase "Happy wife, happy life!" - to which Keegan shakes his head. Now I think sometimes that phrase can be a a bit shady, but Mitch describes in such a lovely way, mentioning his Grandparents having a happy marriage which lasted over 50 years. He says that if your wife is happy, it should make you happy and as he says all this to son, it look as if Keegan completely understands what he has to do.

Back in the park, Whitney approaches the Atkins children, Mack and Mia as they play football. As they play they ask whether their father will be joining them. Whitney informs the children that unfortunately he has to work, this disappoints the kids as they tells Whitney that he hasn't played with them since their Mum passed away. He spends all his time with Shirley now and not them, Whitney is surprised to hear this and informs the young girl and boy that their father loves them dearly and would do anything for them. It's then as they continue to play, Whitney takes out her phone - is she going to convince Gray to make some time with his kids? Meanwhile at home, Gray and Shirley look as if they're doing work, Gray is on his laptop and Shirley is looking at paper work while Tina is sat in the living room behind them, (I loved Tina in this scene, I loved her clumsiness) She's complimenting the house that Shirley has found herself in. I loved how she asked whether the cushion on the sofa was filled with feathers, Shirley's response was brilliant - I'll fill you with feathers if you don't be quiet, and then of course when Tina switches the television it blares through-out the whole household. Tina then asks whether it's possible to stay there for a while as the place she's living at is just constantly full of arguments. Shirley informs her sister to grab her coat as she's going to walk her back to her place, as they leave Gray's phone pings and as he looks over he can see that he's received a message from Whitney telling him that his children want to see him, along with a picture of his children.

At home, Denise appears to be juggling a few things, trying to sort out little Raymond's tea whilst trying to sort out appointments with the salon on the phone, so much so that she burns her finger on the burning hot oven tray. Suddenly the doorbell rings, Denise is surprised to see Jack standing there. She hangs up her phone call and invites him in. It's then that Jack holds out to her an envelope full of money, he admits he wants to help contribute with the expense of Denise seeing a specialist. Denise, at first, is reluctant to take it from him as she explains that it's not his problem and she can't take money from him. But Jack admits that he still cares about her and begs her to take the money, as it'll mean she wont have to bother Phil and also it would be a friend helping out another friend. Denise smiles and thanks her ex-boyfriend for his kindness and accepts the money. As she offers him a cup of coffee, they both smile - do you think her and Denise will rekindle their romance? Will Jack be able to stand by Denise and support her in bringing up Raymond? I'd like to see them get back together, it's clear they still care for one another.

Meanwhile, at the Slater household, Kat returns to find the household empty but is surprised to hear Phil's voice coming from the living room. She is stunned to see him sat in a chair and asks him how he entered their property, to which he reveals that the door was left open. She threatens to call the police if he doesn't leave the house but Phil is quick to respond. He tells her that he's come for his shirt and Kat questions him why he wants it back so desperately, it's then he admits that the top has sentimental value and it was going to be a gift for young Dennis for his 18th birthday. Kat is quick to apologise and admits she only took/wore it to get his attention and assures him that she was going to give it back. Kat then proposes that she'll only give him the top back if he goes and checks out the job she mentioned to him a while back, Phil can't believe what he's hearing. But Kat tells him that if he was to go with her, he'd see she wasn't as stupid as he thought. Something tells me that Phil will only go through with this dodgy robbery job just so he can get the shirt back? What do you guys think?

Returning to Jack and Denise, Denise informs him that trying to sort things out over the phone she's facing a battle of questions that she doesn't know how to answer, because unfortunately she hasn't got the answers to give them. How is she supposed to know if Raymond knows he's adopted, when he won't even speak. Jack throws in suggestions maybe asking a family friend or another family member or someone she might be able to contact, and it's then he recalls that Raymond's adoptive father was a vicar to which Denise reacts positively and recalls which church he was registered at. Okay - something is giving me a very bad feeling - I'm sure you guys remember that Denise's ex-husband Lucas was a pastor of some kind, or was a holy man and had something to do with the church - what if Denise goes to this church and finds that Lucas is now out of prison and back at the church. We know Lucas is returning to the Square, I feel this may just be the start of his return, what do you guys think? Personally, I am SO excited for Lucas and Chelsea to be returning and I hope their return to the Square will be a permanent one. But it feels that this build up into helping Raymond will be the most brilliant way in bringing them back into Denise's life, of course it may be unfortunate for her, but it'll be SO interesting. How is Chelsea going to react when she finds out she has a little brother and that her Mum slept with Phil Mitchell?! It's going to be brilliant I'm sure!

Back out on the Square, Phil bumps into Isaac and asks him why he hasn't updated him on Raymond in recent weeks. Isaac admits that Denise knows so unfortunately he can't continue giving him information, to which Phil tells him to give him his money back. But Isaac reveals he spent the money on treating Raymond to pizza and a toy, to which Phil can't really react to. He knows that if the money has been spent on his son, he can't really be mad. Isaac tells him that if he's so desperate for information on his son then he can speak to Denise, there should be no harm considering he is his father.

Returning to Tiffany and Keegan, she reveals to her husband that she's watched a video online of someone giving birth, but she couldn't finish it. But then she admits that she forced herself to watch the video till the end and she admits to her husband that she found it beautiful. She tries to persuade her husband that they can go through with this, they can treat it like their doing a job and/or a favour to someone, Rainie and Stuart will have the baby they've always longed for and Tiffany and Keegan will be able to use the money to evolve Keegan's business, they'll be able to get all the equipment and supplies they need to really make his business take off. But Keegan, once again, is so mopey thinking that people like him don't deserve to be successful and have dreams, but Tiffany then tells him that his sister wouldn't want him thinking that way and they would both want him to achieve his dream and be a big success.

Back at the Atkins household, Gray is finally reuniting with his children as they show him their drawings they've done of their Mum. Gray is incredibly touched and praises his children for drawing such gorgeous pictures. He suggests to them that they do some more drawing and eagers them to get their drawing supplies so they can do some together. As the children leave to grab their things, Gray thanks Whitney in bringing the children back to him and helping and it's then she tells him that if he ever needs any more help or if he needs her to look after the children until he feels ready to have them back permanently, she's willing to help whenever she can. Gray smiles and thanks her, to which Whitney smiles back.

Above the undertakers, Rainie is fast asleep on the sofa, but Stuart wakes abruptly as he announces that they have visitors, slowly Tiffany and Keegan appear from the staircase. This scene well and truly touched me, I began to well up! Tiffany begins to apologise for what happened earlier in the day, but then she softly reveals to the couple that after a long discussion with Keegan and thinking long and hard about it, they want take them up on their offer and will happily help them have a baby. Everyone is silent as they take in the news, both Rainie and Stuart tear up and Stuart asks whether they're being serious, and Tiffany confirms that she will carry their baby for them. Rainie is tearful as she thanks the red-head. Stuart excitedly states that between the four of them they will make a beautiful baby and he rushes to embrace his wife. Tiffany excitedly joins them and everyone is incredibly happy and excited. But as the three of them embrace in a huge hug, Keegan is left standing and watching, he looks towards the camera and appears less excited than anyone else.

Urgh ... Why can't Keegan see that they're doing something wonderful for the couple?! Of course he's bound to have concerns, is he jealous maybe? Or does he simply not want his wife to do this? I don't know, I think, personally, Keegan needs to realise that this is adult stuff, he's not a kid anymore. He can't mope around because he hasn't got his way, he needs to put on a smile and remain positive. Will Keegan eventually come round to the idea? Could this maybe even break Keegan and Tiffany? I mean this is EastEnders, as much as I want and hope that Stuart and Rainie get the baby they've always longed for, I fear that maybe there could be tragedy along the way. Could Tiffany lose the baby? Will she die in childbirth? Who knows? But this is another story I think is really going to touch people and will end up being gripping, it'll either have a wonderful or devastating ending. What do you guys think?

I hope you've enjoyed reading this blog, I have really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you all enjoy your day and I will be back tomorrow with another blog. Thank you again everyone for taking your time read, I really do appreciate it, it means the world. Every comment, every message, every like - I do notice it and I want you guys to know that it means the world to me that you enjoy this blog as much as I enjoy writing it. Enjoy the rest of your day folks and I'll be back very soon. Love you all xXx

#eastenders #tiffanybutcher #keeganbaker #stuarthighway #rainiecross #philmitchell #katslater #denisefox #jackbranning #isaac baptiste #grayatkins #shirleycarter #tinacarter #whitneydean #mitchbaker #rainie highway

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noodlecupcakeswritings · 4 years

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Mad Love - Chapter 9 ( The final Gotham fic)

After Gotham was cut out off from the mainland, Emerald starts to learn that three’s a crowd and Jeremiah soon shows his true colours. Will she stick around like she did with Jerome or will she finally get some sense to leave and reunite with her true love.

The fourth and final instalment in my Gotham/Emerald series.

Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. It really helps me out as a writer, lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist as well :)

Warnings: Language, Gun violence, Attempted kidnap, Edward Nygma is back baby

Chapter 9

Emerald’s P.O.V

1 month later

Ecco had moved to a bigger safe house, that way we could accommodate the rest of Jeremiah's cult. Never thought I’d actually stick around with a cult after my last encounter with crazy cults. Then again, this lot weren’t worshiping me like a queen every time I entered the room, but they still respected me as one of their leaders. It was good to have them around as well, they would protect Ecco and I if need be and having numbers would help for any future plans Ecco and I had. Ecco had been scheming like crazy, sometimes having violent outbursts at cult members. Yet her and I had grown somewhat closer, I suppose due to the circumstances we had no choice. She was willing to listen to me and accept my help when she needed it. She was out now with at least three quarters of them, scavenging for supplies. I was holding down the fort with the remain quarter.

I was in my makeshift bedroom, finally able to have a quiet moment to myself when there was the sound of gunshots from outside. Great, probably another stupid gang that wanted our territory. Its fine, Ecco and I had handled it before, we could do it again. I pulled out my own pistol and hid where the door would swing open. I waited, taking the safety off my pistol. There was silence before two sets of feet made their way over to the door. I prepared myself, my grip on the pistol getting tighter. The door swung open slowly, the intruders entering the room. I kicked the door closed and pointed the weapon at them. What the fuck were they doing here? There stood Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma. They turned, both now facing me. Oswald looked bored already…no surprises there. Edward however looked like he was about to confess his undying love for me. I put my pistol down, knowing they couldn’t be here to kill me.

“I’d start talking, starting with giving me an explanation as to why you’re here,” I warned. “Ed and I are leaving Gotham, theres a spare seat if you’re interested,” Oswald explained as if that sentence enough would tell me everything. I frowned. Why the fuck would I leave Gotham with them? Why the fuck would I leave Jeremiah at a time like this? How the hell did they even have a way out of Gotham? Ed noticed my confusion and took a step towards me to explain. I pointed the pistol back at him, I didn’t want him near me. He backed off, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm. “I’m building a submarine, that’s the only way out of Gotham. I didn’t want to leave without you,” Ed explained.

I blinked at him. He couldn’t be serious? The last time we had contact was over a year ago and it wasn’t exactly the friendliest of meetings. And then he hasn't answered my calls when I’d needed him. He had no fucking right to just waltz in here and expect me to leave with him. Oswald glanced at me, smirking to himself. He also knew this wasn’t going to go the way Ed wanted. “I told you she wouldn’t be coming with us, what a waste of time,” Oswald sighed. “Just give us a minute,” Ed snapped. “Oswald’s right, I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spoke. Oswald smiled smugly at Ed, who seemed to grow more frustrated by the second.

“Emerald please just hear me out,” Ed tried. I rolled my eyes, fine. I folded my arms over my chest. He had a max of ten minutes to explain himself before Ecco and reinforcements showed up. “I know I haven’t always been good to you, I know that things have been difficult between us. But I can’t leave this city without the one person who matters most to me. There's nothing left for you here, for any of us,” he explained. “Your wrong about that Ed, Jeremiah is still alive, he still needs me. I’m not giving up and turning my back on him at a time he needs me most. Besides maybe if you’d answered your phone, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

It was Ed’s turn to look confused, “my phone?” “Don’t fucking pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, when Jerome died, I tried to reach out to you, but you never answered your damn phone.” “Emerald if I’d gotten a call from you, I can assure you I would have answered it. I was trying to find you after Jerome died. I had to know you were okay.” I frowned, none of this made sense. Why wouldn’t he answer my calls but try and look for me? “But it was your voice on the answer machine, it was your number,” I protested. “What was the number?” From the amount of times I’d tried to call that number, it was one I easily remembered. I relayed it to him.

“That’s an old cell phone, back when I worked at the GCPD. I don’t know how you would have gotten that number, but I wouldn’t have been able to answer it,” Ed explained. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to believe Jeremiah was a liar, he couldn’t have known the numbers wouldn’t have worked, could he? I shook the doubts free, I didn’t have time to dwell on that now. “I want to make things right between us, I want to make up for everything I did. Please. Please let me do that,” Ed pleaded. “Why so you’ll be unburdened with the guilt?” I snapped, I was mere centimetres from him now, “you mean nothing to me anymore,” I said coldly. “Okay, I’m calling bullshit on that one. Will you two just fucking resolve this sexual tension and make out or something? It’s ridiculous,” Oswald sighed. I broke eye contact with Ed who was looking pretty defeated at this point. It was Oswald’s turn now. I looked down at him slightly with a soft smirk.

“And you never meant a thing to me. You were just a rung on a ladder. And who the fuck are you to talk to me about love, especially with him? You’ve got no right Oswald,” I hissed, I turned my attention back to Ed, “your wing mans doing a pretty shit job, then again Penguins never were the superior bird.” Ed’s expression had hardened. Oh this next part should be good then. “I was never asking you to come with me,” Ed spoke. I frowned, not quite realizing what his words meant until it was too late. Ed grabbed hold of me, fighting against my struggle. Oswald cuffed my wrists together and then my ankles before Ed hoisted me over his shoulder. “Put me down now!” I screeched, still trying to struggle. “You always were so stubborn. One of your less likable qualities,” Ed sighed.

I made a sound of disgust. He wanted to talk about unlikable qualities and here he was literally kidnaping me. “You’ll come to your senses when your away from that psychopath,” he continued. “Don’t talk about Jeremiah like that.” “Why not? It's not like he’s around to hear it. Besides you know you were happier when you were around me.” “I think you’ve been skipping your meds again.” Ed and Oswald headed for the door, Oswald leading the way. I couldn’t really see what was going on ahead of them as I was facing behind them. “The second you put me down, you know I’ll run. I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snapped. Before Ed could respond he stopped dead in his tracks. “Didn’t you hear the lady, she said she’s not going anywhere with you,” Ecco spoke in a sing song voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Never thought I’d be so relieved for Ecco to come back, never did I think she’d ever rescue me. It was likely she had back up and a lot of it. Meaning Oswald and Ed had a very slim chance of making it out here alive unless I said so. “Ed, you’ve got ten seconds to put me down and get out of here with your life,” I explained. He hesitated for a moment before giving in and gently placing me back down on the floor. Ecco had indeed brought back up. Ed and Oswald were severely outnumbered. “Ten seconds, tick tock,” Ecco reminded. Oswald took off limping as quick as he could to the nearest exit not wanting to be used for target practice. Ed hesitated for a few moments, his gaze heavy as if looking into my soul. “I would have answered if you called me Emerald, you know that,” He spoke. With that he took off, quickly vanishing out of sight. I swallowed hard, watching him leave. He’d stuck around for a few precious seconds even at the risk of dying.

I didn’t have time to process those thoughts right now, not with Ecco watching me. She’d been counting down in her head, sending the cult after them as she finished her countdown. “No need to kill them, just scare them off,” she ordered. I relaxed a little at that. If Jeremiah had been here, I’m sure he would have had them killed. Now Ecco and I were alone. She met my gaze and smiled. “I won’t tell him if you won’t,” she smirked. She was referring to Jeremiah. She’d keep that from him? Why? Any other time she would have loved the idea of getting me into trouble. Perhaps without him here she was also starting to see things differently. I returned the smile, playing along. Ecco went and found some cutters to get me free from the cuffs.

An hour or so later I was finally free to move my limbs again. Once the excitement of today's events had died down, I returned to my room once more. I felt tension from my shoulders dissipate. Yet I felt exhausted, there was so much to unpack from such a quick encounter. He hasn't said he loved me, but I’m sure he’d meant it with some of the things he’d said and then the way he’d looked at me. I felt angry, how dare he come here and think he can just take me. He must be stupid if he thought he could just put things right with me after everything. Yet he’d planted doubt within me and that was a dangerous thing. Especially now that Jeremiah wasn’t here to back up his side of the story. Not that there was one. Ed would probably just have said anything to get me to come with him. Jeremiah wouldn’t lie to me, he wouldn’t give me numbers that no longer worked, he’d have no reason to do that. He wanted to help me then, he even offered to get me back in touch with Ed.

I suppose it was just easier for Ed to pin the blame on Jeremiah. He’d never liked Jerome for acceptable reasons, but Jeremiah had done nothing to give him the wrong impression. He was not his brother. He was not Jerome. I swallowed hard at the realization, no he wasn’t Jerome. I wasn’t having fun anymore. With Jerome things had at least been fun. I shouldn’t be thinking about all this. Yet I couldn’t get the way Ed had looked at me out of my head. He risked staying longer, risked his life for a few more seconds with me. If he didn’t feel something towards me, he wouldn’t have done that, nobody would do that. Fuck him. Fuck him for making me feel like this again. It seems every time I thought he was out of my life he just had a way of popping back in to remind me of the feelings I’d once had for him. The feelings I still had for him.

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @belathora, @elizbetholsen

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klynn-stormz · 4 years

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Legally Swan Chapter 3

AO3: 1 I 2 I 3 I

CH 3

Emma looked around the small dorm room; it was bigger than she was expecting it to be, but still the size of a closet, a twin bed sat on side of the room, facing a small window, the closet made her cringe and think that it was a good thing she had packed light. She didn’t care much about the size, she’d slept in smaller accommodations before, and honestly, she had this gut churning excitement coursing through her. Here she was a Harvard, holy shit she was a Harvard, she had done it! She had hoped and dreamed about it, but she always had that sliver of doubt that it would not go in her favor. But she had done it and now she was here to prove herself. She thought back to her mom’s final words to her before she got in her little bug to drive cross-country to Cambridge.

“I know you have an idea of why you are doing this, but please try to put yourself first Emma. Make sure that you are happy rather than trying to make others happy.”

She understood her mother’s reluctance to accept that she was doing this for Neal, and maybe she was doing this for herself as well, she just needed to prove to her that Neal was worth it. Because he was, wasn’t he? Emma has met him her first year at UCLA, they had been together for a while and just seemed perfect. So what if he told her things she needed to fix about herself, he was just trying to help her be a better person. And sometime he was annoyed if he felt she had bested him on something, it as just his pride, it wasn’t a big deal when he put her down. She already knew most of what he told her was true anyway. She wasn’t the prettiest without makeup or good clothes, he just wanted her to look her best, there was nothing wrong with that. He thought she wasn’t smart, he had told her that before he broke up, but if she ever tried to show him she was smart, he would get angry and say she was just trying to one up him. She stopped trying to show him. The dumb blonde act wasn’t hard to keep up when people expected you to be that. She was certain that this would show him who she was and how perfect she was for him.

“Henry, are you ready to become a lawyer?” She asked her little dog, he perked up and barked at her, obviously agreeing.

When Emma had been with Ingrid for about six months, Ingrid had noticed she was showing symptoms of anxiety. It wasn’t until she witnessed a bad anxiety attack of hers that she finally convinced Emma to go to a doctor with her. When she was diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder Emma felt even more broken than she had before. The doctor recommended medicine to help her through the attacks, and even suggested a service dog to help her during the attacks; she has shown reluctance to the first and interest in the second. Ingrid had immediately gone online to find the best service dog providers and with all permissions filled out she had gotten Emma dog who had recently completed training.

Henry didn’t seem like much, he was tiny and pretty scrawny, but Emma had fallen in love on site, and vice versa. Since then they were inseparable. It had been nerve-wracking trying to make sure that they would accept her bringing Henry to Harvard with her, of course by law they had to, but service dog laws were still minimal, and most people assumed that she was just using that as an excuse to drag her dog everywhere with her. Since getting Henry and finding the right medication her anxiety attacks had been reduced drastically. While she still had them, they weren’t as debilitating nor painful as they had been.

She was taken out of her thoughts by another bark from Henry, and she got to work on unpacking her room. It was two days before the semester would officially begin, all of her books were out, she was trying to make sure she had done all the reading required for each class before they began. A lot of the language was hard to understand at first, but she was starting to get the hang of it. Once she was all unpacked she relaxed on her bed to watch a few Netflix episodes she has missed, but after a few hours she felt restless. Maybe it was time to do some exploring around town.

---

It was a college town, so there was some nightlife, but it was tame compared to what she had dealt with at UCLA. She found a small bar at one end of town called the Rabbit Hole, it wasn’t crowded but it wasn’t dead inside either. After ordering a beer and finding a quiet booth in the back, she pulled out one of her textbooks and began going over the reading for her first class tomorrow, Law & Ethics. It was with a teacher named Professor Elsa Arendale, Emma had looked up reviews for her on a rate my professor site. She seemed harsh, cold even, with most of the students saying if you didn’t have the right answers she would kick you out of class. Emma did not want to be kicked out on her first day, and with her luck it would happen, so she was going to be prepared as she could.

“I don’t think studying is the best option at a bar on a Saturday night love.” A smooth British voice interrupted her studying.

“Not your love.” She replied automatically, not moving her eyes away from the textbook.

“Well then, I’ll need a name to call you by.” He responded; his cheerful voice seemingly not affected by her ‘back off’ tone.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to deal with a man who assumes I need company when I'm obviously busy.” She sniped back, finally turning her eyes towards him.

Everything froze for a moment when her eyes met the most gorgeous vivid blue ones she had ever seen. He had a square, slightly stubbled jaw his mouth was stretched into a beautiful grin, one of his eyebrows was raised as she took him in. His dark hair brushed at his forehead, it made her want to run her fingers through it and see if it was as soft as it looked. Taken back by her thoughts she blinked and tried to focus.

“Well? Can I get a name now?” He asked. “I might just keep calling you love.”

“You’re going to stick around long enough? Really?” She asked, suspicious and not really liking his overall pushiness.

He shrugged before replying. “Not if you really don’t want me too, you looked stressed while reading and I thought I’d see if I could make you smile. I’d say I’ve almost accomplished it.”

She held back a small smile "And your way of doing it was to critique me?" She settled on staying annoyed with him. She definitely didn't need this right now.

"Well when you put it like that, you're right, bad form." He agreed. He grabbed her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. "My sincerest apologies."

She smiled and blushed a little at his actions. Emma hoped that the bar was dark enough he wouldn't see. "Since you seem intent on staying." She gestured for him to sit down

“Killian Jones as your service.” He smiled and again she was struck by just how gorgeous it was.

“Emma Swan.” She finally conceded, much to his apparent delight.

“Swan, it suits you. Now what in the hell are you doing at a bar on a Saturday night with law textbooks?”

“I don’t know you well enough to give you my life story, but I’ll tell you it’s my first year at Harvard and I’m trying to make sure I’m prepared, but I needed to get out of my room for a bit.”

“Ah, that makes much more sense. When I’m not saving damsels in distress, I’m getting ready for my final year.” Killian gave her a crooked smile.

“Hey, the only one who saves me is me. In fact I’d go as far to say that you are distracting me from my purpose.” She glared at him.

He put his hands up in placation. “Love, you were about to die of boredom or a migraine, I couldn’t very well let that happen! Besides, now that I’m here I can give you inside advice on the teachers you’ll be dealing with.”

Emma tilted her head at that, it would be nice to have some first hand information on the professors.

“Let me see your schedule.” Killian said, holding out his right hand. Emma rolled her eyes, but thought it would be nice to have a little more information from a senior who had probably dealt with most of the teachers she would meet. Pulling it up on her phone, she handed it over. He scrolled through, one eyebrow raising as he saw her classes. She already had it memorized:

7am-9am MWF-Ms. Elsa Arendale: Law and Ethics

9:30am-10:30am MWF-Mr. Isaac Print: Legal Research 101

11:15am-1:30pm MWF-Mr. Robert Gold: Complex Law & Politics

8am-11am TTH- Mr. Graham Humbert: Criminal Law Introduction

12pm-2pm TTH- Ms. Ruby Lucas: Civil Law

“Wow, you’ve got some good ones. In fact most of these will probably end up being your teacher through the rest of university.” He commented.

“So what can you tell me about them?” She asked, trying not to seem too eager.

“Well, Ms. Arendale is a hardass, she rules her class like a kingdom. Make sure you are over prepared for her, if not she’ll have no qualms kicking you out. She doesn’t tolerate people with no drive, so you’ll need to make sure you try to speak up every class. Mr. Print is, well, creepy. I honestly don’t know why he’s a teacher for law, he’s much more interested in news and politics than anything else, sit in the back in his class, he tends to lisp and spit.” He gave her a crooked grin, which she returned. “Mr. Gold hires four interns for his law office every year, so fight hard to make your case. He expects to see hard work, and likes a little blood in the water between classmates. Last semester he actually had a fist fight break out in one of his classes, he didn’t try to stop it, let them fight till one was unconscious. While the student was carried out by a few of her friends, he proceeded to lecture us about being prepared to go to war to prove your point. He doesn’t have any ethics, no qualms as long as he wins.”

Emma shifted uncomfortably as he related this information. He caught it and quickly backtracked. “He’s not the worst person, he’s just… well,” He paused for a moment to think about it. “he’s like a crocodile. Just waiting for some unsuspecting creature to get close enough to snap.”

“I thought lawyers were supposed to be sharks.” Emma joked.

“Oh most of them are, rest assured. But him, he’s different. Sharks go on the attack pretty fast, and most of the time their pray knows they’re after them. But crocodiles, they’re a quiet kind of dangerous. He doesn’t attack till he knows he can win. He has deep pockets and a lot of sources to keep him on top. Don’t let your guard down with him. And don’t give up on that internship, it’s the most coveted here, it pretty much guarantee’s you will have job offers when you graduate.”

Emma tilted her head. “Did you get the internship?”

“Aye, worked bloody hard for it too.” He spoke proudly.

“So how about the rest of the teachers?” She asked.

They got into a discussion about the rest the teachers she would have, which turned into recommendations for next semester, then his favorite classes. He tried to ask a few questions about her but she evaded them like a pro. It was getting late, time to go get some sleep, and Henry was probably missing her.

“I better get going.” She announced, gathered in books and standing up. He stood up as well and she was a little surprised that he walked out the door with her.

“May I walk you to your dorm milady?” He asked with that crooked grin, it made her heart stutter for a moment before she shook it off.

“Oh so now you’re a gentleman.” She asked, she wouldn't admit it was maybe a bit flirtatious.

“Darling, I’m always a gentleman.” Killian responded, his tongue flicking across his lips.

“I can handle myself. Thanks for the help tonight.” Emma said, and walked away.

“See you around Swan.” He called to her, making her smile at the nickname.

---

“I don’t have time to mess around Henry! I can’t get distracted by some guy.” Emma was pacing her room after returning from the bar. Henry barked and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, okay, he was attractive.” Henry barked again. “Oh my gosh stop pushing! He was funny and interesting and maybe he didn’t see me as just a blonde. But none of that matters! I’m here for Neal remember? I’m going to prove to Neal that I’m good enough for him.”

She could almost see Henry roll his eyes. Great, she had no one to talk to but her dog now. She needed to sleep. Her room was all unpacked, she had studied, and she had had a fun night. Should could admit that to herself privately.

The next day was boring as well. Emma caught up on all reading for the classes, reading a few of the cases and quizzing herself to make sure she understood. She felt ready to go take on Harvard and show Neal who she was. Maybe she'd even run into the blue-eyed Brit a few more times.

#cs fic #Captain Swan #legally blonde au #cs ff #captain swan ff #legally swan

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basketofverbiage · 5 years

Text

Hold On Pt 2

Hi Everyone! Here is the second part of Hold On. Not as angsty, but still pretty dark. The light starts to shine a bit near the end though.

Trigger Warnings: rape description (nothing graphic, but its there nonetheless), miscarriage, suicide attempt aftershocks, depression, anxiety. I think that’s everything, but if I missed something please let me know!

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Where is that annoying beeping sound coming from? Y/n thought to herself as the fog in her head slowly started to lift. Her throat was so sore and there was this weird pressure in her chest that seemed to expand and contract to the rhythm of her breaths. When she opened her eyes, she didn’t know where she was and started to panic a little.

“Oh my god, Y/n! It’s okay! I promise! You’re at the hospital. Let me get the nurse to come help,” Namjoon excitedly said from beside her. He squeezed her hand once when their eyes met, then he ran out of the room yelling down the hall for a nurse to come.

Y/n realized that the beeping had been the heart rate monitor beside the bed, and that’s when things slowly started to come back to her. And since her suicide attempt had failed, she had to tell Seokjin what had led to this. She didn’t know how she would face him after this. Before she could think too much further about that, Namjoon crashed back into the room dragging two nurses behind him.

“These nurses are going to take care of you. I’ll go find Seokjin. He has literally only been gone maybe 20 minutes to update the boys and get some coffee. I’ll be back soon,” Namjoon hurriedly explained then rushed back out the door.

“Y/n, my name is Da-eun, and this is Mishil. You were intubated when you were brought in last night to help keep your breathing stable while the muscle relaxers were removed from your system. We are going to remove that tube now and it may be a little bit uncomfortable.”

Her mind was whirling while the nurses set about removing the tube that was down her throat and forcing air into her lungs. They were right; it was very uncomfortable to remove. It felt like it was ripping out the lining of her trachea as they pulled it out, but the pressure in her chest was gone the minute it was removed. Y/n coughed a bit after it was fully removed and could taste the metallic tang of blood on the back of her tongue. The nurses quietly left after they were sure that she wasn’t going to cough much more and told her they would bring some water into the room in a little bit. After they left, she put her head in her hands and brought her knees up to her chest. Since she never planned on waking up again, this was all a huge shock and she was trembling all over. The shaking felt like it started in the pit of her stomach and radiated out to the rest of her body, and she couldn’t stop it. The silence in the room outside the beeping of the heart monitor was disconcerting. She had never been good with silence, always playing music or having the tv on in the background at home, and now this silence was so damn heavy.

Y/n’s head whipped up when the door clicked open. Seokjin just stood there and looked at her, and she felt like he was staring into the dark recesses of her soul. He didn’t move or say anything for a minute, just stared at her with his eyes large and his lips slightly parted. She wanted so badly to look away from him but couldn’t find it in herself to break the eye contact with this beautiful man; her heart shattered in her chest when the tears stopped shining in his eyes to drip down his face. She could feel the hurt, shock, and to her surprise, love pouring off of him in waves.

“Jinnie, I…” she started, but it hurt to speak and her voice sounded so strange to her own ears that she just let the sentence trail off.

“Baby, I’m so glad you are awake,” he croaked out. That’s all it took to break his trance because he practically ran across the room to her.

Before she could even move to accommodate him, he just picked her up enough to wrap himself completely around her and crush her into his chest while he cried the most awful, wracking sobs she’d ever heard in her life. She didn’t even realize that she was crying too until she felt the fabric of his shirt near her face soaking through with her tears.

“Jinnie, I’m sorry…” she whispered to him. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, just clung to her like she was his life raft in the middle of the ocean, but after a few more minutes, his sobs finally began to slow down.

“I will never forget the way you looked when I walked into that bathroom, Baby. There was blood everywhere and you were just slumped against the tub…and the pill bottle in the sink. Is it my fault? Did I not love you well enough? I’ll do better, I swear. Just please…” and his voice cracked again before he could finish the sentence.

At that, she pulled away to look at him. How could he possibly think this was his fault? She cupped his face in her hands and tried to blink away enough tears so that she could actually see him.

“Jinnie, this was never your fault, I swear. There is something else…” She paused because she didn’t know how she would ever get the words out. They felt much too large on her tongue and once she said them, he’d leave her. She just knew he’d leave her. She couldn’t live with the knowledge of keeping this from him anymore, but when she told him, Seokjin would leave and she couldn’t live without him either.

He looked deep into her eyes, his hands gripping her forearms above where the bandages covered the self-inflicted razor wounds on her wrists, in a bit of shock and confusion.

“Baby, if it’s not my fault, then why? Why would you ever do this?” he whispered.

Before she had a chance to respond, there was a knock at the door before it opened up and the rest of the boys poured into the room. Y/n barely had a chance to brace herself before the maknaes practically launched themselves at her and their hyung. Taehyung squeezed himself between her and the bedrail and just wrapped himself around her back. She could feel him crying into the back of the hospital gown from the way he was trembling. Jimin wrapped around Seokjin, trying his best to comfort his hyung. Jungkook perched in the small space between Y/n’s legs and Seokjin’s legs and forcibly held both their hands. Y/n felt worse when she saw the tears pooling in his big dark eyes. She had hurt so many of the people she cared about when she was just trying to empty out the ache in her own chest. She had never meant to hurt them; she just wanted to be free of the shadow inside.

“Y/n, you really scared us,” Yoongi murmured from the end of the bed. When she looked into his eyes, he looked almost haunted, but like he understood her. Y/n felt like she couldn’t hold his gaze because she felt like she had ripped open old wounds in his chest from the ghosts dancing in his eyes, so she stared at the hand that was being gripped tightly by Jungkook.

“Guys, I love you all, but can you please give us a minute?” Seokjin said, “We need to have a talk. I’ll come get you when we are done?”

Most of the guys agreed, but Taehyung moaned when Hoseok physically removed the man from the bed. Jungkook climbed out and immediately went to hug Tae and walked with him towards the door, still looking at Y/n in the bed. She looked back at him one more time; he looked at her in the same way a puppy looks at his owner after being kicked. Y/n realized that she would have to tell this story at least twice: once to Seokjin, then again to his brothers. The thought of having to look them in the eyes and tell them about this just was too much, and she started shaking again and looked down at her lap.

“Baby? Are you okay? Do I need to get the nurse?” Seokjin lifted her face up and forced her to look at him.

“No, I’m just scared. I’m sorry,” she whispered back to him.

Y/n didn’t fight back when Seokjin physically lifted her up and tucked her into his lap so that he could press her head to his chest. The sound of his strong heartbeat calmed her enough that she started to talk and finally tell him the thing she had kept from him for 3 months.

“Jinnie, you remember a several months ago when you were on tour in America?”

She felt him nod against the top of her head, so she continued on. “It was a Monday. I ended up having to stay later at the office than usual, and I had walked in that morning. It was 9:30 or so when I walked out of the building, but it was a warm beautiful night, so I thought I would be fine to just walk home. It would give me a chance to settle out of my work mindset before I came home. I made it halfway home, when two guys in masks jumped out of an alley and grabbed me. They dragged me in behind a building and told me that if I screamed, they would kill me. They took turns holding a knife to my throat while they raped me. When they were done, the one that was holding the knife hit me in the head really hard and I passed out. I woke up sometime later when one of the staff of the shop that was in that building came out to take out the trash and found me unconscious behind the dumpster. I had a gash in my forehead, was half naked, and his cry of shock woke me up. He called an ambulance and the police, and they took me to the emergency room. I had to go through a horrific exam where they tried to collect evidence to catch them and answer about a million questions. Then I had to have stitches in my forehead right at my hairline, and they kept me overnight. All I wanted to do was take the hottest shower I could, but they wouldn’t let me until the next day. One of the nurses helped me shower before they discharged me. Before I could even leave, they loaned me scrubs because the men had stolen my underwear and ripped my skirt almost to the waist. I thought I would feel better when I got home to a familiar place, but I didn’t. It was worse. I was so embarrassed that it had happened and felt like it was my fault. I should never have tried to walk home alone. I had no words to tell you what had happened. And I knew that if I told you over the phone, you would leave the tour and fly home. I was so terrified to be alone with a man, even though I love you so much and knew you would never hurt me, that I never said anything.”

“Was that the week that you flat refused to FaceTime? Oh Baby…” Y/n glanced up at him when his voice broke and could see the realization, pain, and a little anger on his face.

“Yes. I didn’t want to have to explain the stitches. It also gave me time to go have my hair cut so that I’d have bangs to cover the scar after the stitches came out. When I met with my doctor to have the stitches removed, she recommended a colleague who was a therapist. For the first few weeks, I met with her every single day. I was so scared and so disgusted with myself at first. Then I was angry. And the therapy helped some until about 6 weeks ago, and I missed my period. I panicked and went to the doctor immediately and I was pregnant. One of them got me pregnant and it opened everything back up that had started healing. Then, the stress of carrying the child of a rapist and trying to figure out how to tell you and what to do about the baby took its toll and I miscarried. I had decided that I was going to carry the child to term then decide what to do, and the day I decided that, I started bleeding and had to go back to the hospital. By then, you were in Europe. In fact, the day it happened, you were in Paris. I remember because you tried to call me when they were hooking me up to a blood transfusion because I had bled way more than I should have.

“Since then, I’ve had so many blood tests and physical exams to make sure I didn’t have any other diseases from those assholes than I can count. I had to make sure that I was physically okay before you came home. I had issues eating properly or even really functioning for a long time. I did fine when I was at work because I could throw all of my energy into that, but at home I was scared all the time. I slowly got to where I could be alone with a man and not be terrified he would hurt me because my brother came and stayed with me after the miscarriage for 3 weeks. He left the day before you got home.”

Y/n stopped talking to cry. She couldn’t force another word out. Seokjin was holding her like she would shatter if he let go, but she could feel his hands shaking as he rubbed her back to soothe her. After a few minutes of silence, she finally stopped crying enough to look back up at him.

“Jinnie, I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have kept it to myself. I should have told you. But I was scared you would leave me. And I needed you so much. When you got home, I finally felt safe again for a while.”

Seokjin’s ears were so red, and she knew he was angry. She had expected him to yell and scream and leave when she told him. So far, he had barely even spoken to her.

“I…I understand if you can’t be with me now. It just got too much to for me to handle to not tell you, but I was scared you would leave and I know you are mad at me and—”

“Y/n, stop right there. I am so angry, but I am NOT angry at you. I am a little upset that you didn’t tell me, but I am more angry that those two bastards dared to even look at you. I also think that we need to call your therapist and speak with her about some other options, because whatever you were doing isn’t helping. You tried to kill yourself and nearly succeeded. The doctor said that if I had been 5 more minutes, you might not have lived, and I refuse to have this happen again. I want to learn ways to help and support you in your healing so that I can protect you from yourself when you need it.”

Y/n was shocked. She never dreamed he would react this way. Seokjin was a very kind, but very passionate man, and slightly territorial. Y/n sagged a bit in relief, but she knew that they had a long, long way to go for everything to be okay.

“Baby, you are exhausted from nearly dying and the shock of waking up. I can see it on your face. Why don’t you try to sleep? I’ll get out of the bed so you can be more comfortable,” Seokjin said gently, brushing his thumbs across her cheeks.

“Please don’t. Please just hold me,” she begged.

“Okay, I will. Let’s just get a bit more comfortable here.”

It had been an hour and a half since Seokjin had asked them to leave. The guys were starting to get worried again that something horrible had happened. Yoongi, who was usually one of the calmer presences in the group, had been stalking around the room for around 30 minutes. He was starting to drive the rest a little crazy.

“Yoongi, go. Go check on them,” Namjoon said finally. “I know you won’t settle down until you do.”

Yoongi didn’t have to be told twice. He was out the door as soon as the words were out of Namjoon’s mouth. He knew exactly how Y/n must be feeling. She was probably scared, overwhelmed, and a little shocked to even still be alive. And who knows what had pushed her to go this far? She was normally a pretty cheerful person. Since the day she and Seokjin had met, she had become a warm, welcoming light in each of their lives. Yoongi always looked forward to her visits. She had never treated them as anything other than Seokjin’s family and made enormous efforts to get to know each of them. Last year, she had even surprised them all with a beautifully handmade cake on the anniversary of their debut that tasted even better than it looked. Y/n was the type of person to show love to the ones she cared about with little gifts, and it seemed like she always had gifts for them on days that they needed them most. The boys had often teased Seokjin that she had usurped his role as the eomma of the group. It had honestly gotten to the point that each member had her on speed dial.

Not only were the boys very worried about Y/n, but Yoongi needed to see how Seokjin was holding up. Yoongi was able to tell that they had interrupted something when they had barged in earlier, but they weren’t able to keep the maknaes away from her for another minute, so they’d given in anyway. Yoongi stayed lost in his thoughts, trying to decide the best way to help both of them, until he got to the door. He knocked quietly, then eased the door open. He smiled a bit to see both Seokjin and Y/n sleeping soundly in the hospital bed. It honestly looked like Seokjin was squeezing her too tightly, but she slept on, probably feeling the aftereffects of the trauma her body had been through. As quietly as he could, Yoongi squeezed in and shut the door behind him, then curled up in the chair beside the bed. He pulled his phone out and snapped a silent picture of the two sleeping deeply in each other’s arms and sent it to the rest of the members. As the second oldest, he felt so protective of their little family and decided to stay put to watch over them while they dreamed.

Being stuck out in the waiting room was a little disastrous for the rest of the group. The maknaes and Hoseok were all struggling with having to stay quiet and contain their high energy levels. Namjoon, being the meticulous planner that he was, pondered over the situation at length while waiting for Seokjin and Y/n to wake up. Finally, he decided that he had a good enough plan to share with the other members.

“So, now that we know that Y/n is medically stable, we know that she is going to need some extra support. I don’t know how long it will be before she is able to come home, but I can think of a few things we can do in the meantime to help her and Jin-hyung. Hobi, do you still have a spare key to their apartment in case of emergencies?”

“Yes. It’s right here,” Hoseok said as he pulled out the key ring with their dorm key as well as a few others. He pointed to one painted pink. “It’s this one.”

“Good,” Namjoon replied. “Do you think that you and Taehyungie can go over to their apartment and either clean up the bathroom, or call a maid service to do it? Then, get some clean clothes for both Jin-hyung and for Y/n. Get both some soft pajamas for her and something for her to wear home when the day comes, along with her own toiletries. Just a little bit of normalcy.”

“We’re on it!” Taehyung said while saluting Namjoon.

“Thank you. Jiminie, you and Kookie are in charge of finding dinner for everyone. Something super comforting if you can. We will have a picnic in her room and eat dinner together as a family around 6:30. It’s 2:30 pm now, so that gives you guys a few hours to pick some things out.”

“That sounds good. Let’s go ahead and go. We can stop off and pick up a few presents for her,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. They left immediately, chattering excitedly about all the different things they should bring back.

“What will you do, Joon-hyung?” Taehyung asked.

“Well, I’m going to go update Sejin-hyung in person. Then, I’ll go to our dorm for a bit. I know that Jin-hyung and Y/n usually stay in their shared apartment, but I wanted to make sure that his room at the dorm is ready in case they need to stay with us for a while. I want them to know that they are our family, and family takes care of each other.”

“Good plan, Joonie. We will go ahead and go take care of things at their apartment. Let’s divide and conquer.”

At that, all three remaining members left and split off in separate directions. While he was riding back to their dorm, Namjoon sent Yoongi a text to let him know of the plan so that he could take care of his part: convincing Seokjin and Y/n to stay with them at the dorm for a bit.

Seokjin slowly woke up as Mishil came in to check the monitors still connected to Y/n. She smiled at him and apologized for waking them then slipped back out. Seokjin glanced around the room and noticed Yoongi curled up in the chair near the bed with a thin hospital blanket thrown across him. His eyes opened as Seokjin moved to a better position with Y/n’s head resting on his chest. She was still sleeping soundly, and her body needed the rest to heal, and truthfully, she was probably emotionally exhausted from their discussion as well.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi-chi?” Seokjin murmured softly.

“I couldn’t stand being away from you both. I was pacing around the waiting room, so I wanted to come make sure you were both okay. You guys were sleeping when I came in, so I just curled up here.”

“Ah, okay. What time is it?”

“It is just now 4:30 pm. It just seems later because I pulled the shades down so that you’d both rest better. The boys are all off running some errands to take care of some things for you both. They will be back for dinner at 6:30 according to Namjoon,” Yoongi whispered. “Were you guys able to discuss what happened?”

Seokjin sighed. While it wasn’t really his story to tell, he needed to confide in someone and express some of his feelings. After checking that Y/n was truly still sleeping, he finally decided to tell Yoongi at least part of the story.

“Yes. I’m not really sure how to say this but she was attacked while we were away, and the aftershocks were too much for her. And she kept it all from me and just suffered in silence because she was afraid I would leave her. I don’t feel like I can go into much detail without her permission, but I know you two are close, so she may tell you. I just don’t want to push her. If she doesn’t tell you, I will definitely have to have a discussion with Sejin-ssi and Namjoon before it’s time for us to leave again. I refuse to leave her here alone again.”

Yoongi nodded at that and didn’t question it further. He didn’t want to pry but just to be there for his brother and sister. They sat in silence for a few more moments before Y/n started to squirm about a bit before finally opening her eyes.

“Hi Yoongi-chi,” she mumbled upon noting their guest.

“Hello, Love. I’m so glad you are okay.”

She simply nodded and gave Seokjin a little squeeze. “I’m sorry for being so much trouble and for worrying you,” she timidly answered.

“It’s okay. But please, don’t get this bad again. I don’t think any of us could stand to lose you.”

Jimin and Jungkook had probably gone a little overboard, but Y/n deserved more than these small tokens. Upon leaving the hospital, they had gone straight to a local florist that they knew and trusted and placed an order for the biggest flower arrangement possible. Since they hand-picked the lilac blossoms and the darkest red roses in the shop, the florist had requested that they come back by in a few hours to pick up the arrangement. Then, they had gone and bought her new silk pajamas in a deep royal purple and matching slippers. As for an outfit to wear home, they had stopped back by the dorm. Before she and Seokjin came to visit, when she’d stay the night at the dorms she would always borrow clothes to sleep in from the boys. Jimin picked out his softest pair of lounge pants that she’d threatened to steal on multiple occasions and Jungkook picked out a black oversized hoodie. She would have a piece of them hugging her regardless of whether she returned to the dorm or went back to their apartment. Jungkook grabbed his stuffed Cooky plushie from his room for her to have something to cuddle if she was alone for any length of time. The final stop was for dinner. While neither Jimin nor Jungkook were very skilled in the kitchen, they knew that certain foods would be soothing and comforting. So, while they couldn’t make the soup that she loved from her home country, they knew that soup was comforting. Instead of buying soup from a restaurant, they had called their Jin-hyung’s mother and she had made a huge pot of soup, some rice, and kimchi to take to the hospital.

“Do you think this is everything we should take, Hyung?” Jungkook asked uncertainly.

“What if we grabbed some dessert somewhere? I’d say ice cream, but it would melt before we could all eat it.”

Jungkook thought for a few minutes before speaking up. “What if we stop in that little bakery next to the florist and pick up a variety of pastries? Then everyone can just pick out what they like?”

“That’s a perfect idea! I can go there and pick out the pastries while you pick up Y/n’s flowers. Then we can head back to the hospital.”

Taehyung had never seen so much blood before in his life. The fact that it had dried to the floor in the bathroom didn’t help. Luckily, there was a section of molding between the bathroom tile and the bedroom carpet or the cream carpet would have been ruined. Taehyung could make out exactly where Y/n had been sitting because there was blood all around that area except where she had been. Hoseok had taken one look and was overwhelmed. He wanted to call a cleaning service, but Taehyung didn’t want to have to explain what had happened to anyone. Just thinking about losing the big sister he’d always wanted made his chest hurt, so speaking those words out loud was nearly unbearable. Besides that, Taehyung had grown up on a farm and had been around on more than one occasion when an animal had been slaughtered to feed their family. He knew how to get up blood, even if it was fresh blood and not to this extent in those cases. He sent Hoseok to the store to get a gallon of bleach, a cheap mop that could be thrown out afterward, and towels like his grandfather had used in his workshop. They were absorbent and wouldn’t be a big loss to throw away. Since the blood was completely dried, there was no need to get something to soak up most of the liquid.

While Hoseok was out buying the cleaning supplies, Taehyung set about cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. Since Seokjin had gone to change clothes and had planned to come straight back to cook, all the non-perishable ingredients were just strewn about the counter. Taehyung put everything away and put the flowers that Seokjin had bought in a vase. They hadn’t wilted surprisingly, so he thought that they could take them back to the hospital with them. Then, he went into their bedroom and picked out some pajamas and changes of clothes for both Seokjin and Y/n.

Once Hoseok was back with the cleaning supplies, Taehyung set to work. Hoseok was squeamish and couldn’t stay in the bedroom while Tae cleaned. He went to the kitchen and fussed about making sure that everything was spotless. He did the few dishes that were in the sink, then swept the floor. Just as he was debating on what else he could do to help, Taehyung came out carrying the mop stained a horrible rusty brown color.

“Okay, Hyung. I’m all done. We need to leave the bathroom door open so that the smell of the bleach will air out. We can get rid of this on our way out. I know Jin-hyung mentioned that they have a garbage chute at the end of the hallway.”

Hoseok just nodded, then accepted the bag of clothing and toiletries that Taehyung had packed up.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Taehyung asked softly.

“Yes, Tae. I just never thought I would ever see that much blood in one place. And to think that it all came out of Y/n…we saw it dried. I can’t imagine how Jin-hyung felt finding her like that.” Hoseok barely finished his thought before his voice cracked. He was fighting hard not to cry.

Taehyung propped the mop up outside the front door then pulled Hoseok into a big hug. “It’s okay, Hyung. He saved her. And we are going to be her safety net from now on. Whenever she feels like she’s falling into that darkness again, we will help catch her and hold her up. Now, let’s go get rid of that gross mop and get back to check on them.”

Namjoon had spent nearly an hour updating Sejin on Y/n’s condition and about what he knew. He didn’t have all the details, but Namjoon had a plan for the future that he wanted in place before even presenting it to Seokjin. He knew that Seokjin would not want to leave her behind when it came time to tour again in a few months, and after the way she had looked lying in that hospital bed, he couldn’t think of it either. Y/n had walked into their lives and become a soft cloud of support and love and had treated them all like they were her best friends and brothers rolled into one, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do whatever he could to support her from here on out. Sejin was in total agreement with the plan, so that was one less thing that they would have to worry about.

When he got back to the dorm, Jimin and Jungkook were just leaving to go pick up dinner from Seokjin’s mother. The boys had gone a bit overboard with their assignment, but Namjoon knew that Y/n would be delighted with their thoughtfulness, so he didn’t discourage them. He headed in and cleaned the room that had been Seokjin’s when he lived here with the rest of the boys. He made the bed with fresh, clean sheets and vacuumed the floor. He put the softest, fluffiest blanket he could find on the bed and cleaned the en suite bathroom from top to bottom. When he finished, it was 5:45, so he locked up and headed back to the hospital to meet back up with everyone else.

#kim seokjin #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts imagination #bts jin #bts jin angst #bts angst #bts seokjin angst #may be triggering #trigger warning

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