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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

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jealous

Word Count: 3,130

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some insecurity angst (only a little though) but all fluff otherwise!

A/N: thank you for the help and love you two give me @satan-ruler-of-hells @thisnoodlewritesao3. Was having a shitty day so I queued this fic up to hopefully bring some smiles to people’s faces <3

Haikyuu Masterlist

Ushijima would never understand why people flocked to him the way they did during tournaments. No matter where the team went, there were people begging for answers to their invasive questions, people screaming in excitement as soon as they saw them, but why?

“You’re a big strong attractive dude, Ushi, I dunno what to tell ya. Not to mention, you’re the ace of a powerhouse school,” Tendō laughed when Ushijima asked him why. But it wasn’t like any of these girls knew him so why were they always asking for pictures?

But despite not really understanding, Ushijima often complied with the request for photos, standing there as stoic as ever, not even bothering to crack a smile. He didn’t want to make anyone upset and he felt like just going along with it might actually be easier than trying to run away.

But today, Tendō watched as one girl got prepared for a selfie, and surprised Ushijima with a kiss on the cheek for the photo. She squealed in excitement, thanking him even as she ran away. The two Shiratorizawa boys stood there in confusion, Tendō’s eyes looking around to make sure you weren’t around to experience that.

Ushijima stood there for a moment longer, his hand going up to his cheek and touching the place she had kissed him. Had that really just happened? How odd. Why would someone he had never even met before do something like that?

The thought left his mind as soon as it had entered, turning around to follow Tendō onto the court. But he noticed how his friend’s eyes seemed to glance around the hallway, as if looking for someone, then fall on him questioningly.

“What is it?” Ushijima asked, watching his friend’s eyes carefully.

Tendō just laughed and shook his head, “I’m just glad poor Y/N didn’t have to watch that. Can’t say I’d envy her.”

Ushijima’s brow tensed a little hearing those words, trying to comprehend Tendō’s words and tone, “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you’re constantly followed around by girls and you must see some of them all the time at every one of our tournaments. But you and Y/N haven’t had a lot of time to see each other now that practice is every day right? Plus... what girl wants to see her boyfriend get kissed by some random fangirl?” Tendō explained, holding his hands behind his head as they walked into the stadium courts.

Ushijima frowned a bit, still not fully comprehending. You knew that he was busy with volleyball and you knew he loved you, didn’t you? So why did it matter what some insignificant people thought? Or what some random person did for that matter? Sure, it was an uncomfortable kiss and was awkward but would it matter? He didn’t even know the girl.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the girl had posted the pic onto social media. Swarms of jealous students and gossip news reporters started to share the picture and repost it with the question “Is this Ushijima’s girlfriend?”

It didn’t take long for you to be tagged. One of your friend had sent the photo with a questioning keyboard smash, wondering if you had known.

You hadn’t.

You had been up in the stands when it all took place - you didn’t see Ushijima often before a game since he was usually stretching while you got there early to get good seats. You had been sitting up in the stands, talking to another friend of yours and some of the other players’ friends and family. But when you saw the picture, it was like everything around you started to move in slow motion.

Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat, your chest tightening. Who was this girl? Your fingers instantly clicked onto her profile, glancing at all of her public photos. She was gorgeous, thin, smart by the looks of it too. She even had a picture or her playing volleyball.

Something inside of you asked the question, “Would Ushijima be better off with someone like her?”

He wasn’t following her on social media, so he didn’t know who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to post their photos with Ushijima, but no fans had ever been so bold to kiss him for a picture before.

You couldn’t even remember the rest of the game. Your stomach was churning so much you thought you were going to be sick.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your friend asked when they realized you hadn’t cheered as loud as you normally did during the games. You quickly plastered on a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’ve got to head out early! Tell the boys I said congratulations!” You asked them as the game came to an end, your feet quickly moving out of the stadium before the crowds left.

Ushijima could’ve sworn you had been up in the stands and you always came to his games. So where were you? Why hadn’t you come down yet? He stood in the hallway, watching as crowds of people left. Loads of them congratulated him or tried to strike up a conversation with him. But not a single one of them was you.

“Oh Ushijima! Y/N asked me to say congratulations!” Someone smiled up at him giving a thumbs up. He recognized them, they were friends with you weren’t they? So you had been here...

Ushijima’s forehead creased ever so slightly, “Where is she?”

“She said she had to go for some reason! She didn’t look so good when she left to be honest. Maybe she was feeling sick?” Your friend shrugged and gave another wave before rushing off.

Ushijima glanced at his phone, finding no notifications from you. If you had been feeling sick, why wouldn’t you tell him?

“You alright there, Ushi?” Tendō called, slapping his shoulder playfully. “We won, it’s time to go! What’re you standing around for?” His head spun around, looking for the missing part of their trio. “Where’s Y/N? It’s almost time for our celebratory dinner!”

“She left,” was all he said with a frown.

Tendō sucked in some air nervously, glancing at his own phone and all the notifications he had gotten over the recent scandal photo. “Think it might have to do with this?” He asked, showing the post to his friend. “Didn’t you get tagged in it too? Seems like the whole team was.”

“I don’t have notifications for those apps,” Ushijima shrugged. “I get tagged in a lot of things and it gets annoying.”

Tendō pouted at this, realizing that’s why Ushijima never responded to the hilarious things he would send him.

Ushijima was still frowning, wondering why everyone seemed so concerned with his dating life. He scrolled through the notifications that Tendō had on his phone, news reporters questioning Ushijima’s relationship status, people from their school mentioning Y/N and curiously wondering if they had broken up.

All of this over some random girl? He glanced at her post a little closer, noting the caption read, “Ushi” with a little heart emoji next to it. He hadn’t been happy at all that some girl had decided to plant a kiss on his cheek but he never had the chance to tell her that before she ran off.

“Why would Y/N leave over that?” Ushijima finally spoke, glancing again at his own phone to see if maybe you had texted him in the last few minutes.

Tendō sighed and raised an eyebrow to him, “Ushijima, some people get jealous.”

Jealous. The word echoed in Ushijima’s mind as he tried to consider the possibility that you were jealous over someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if you saw someone posting a similar photo of Y/N?” Tendō asked with a tilt to his head, curiously watching his friend’s expression.

Ushijima let the thought cross over his mind while the two of them walked to where the rest of the team had gathered. What if some dude had posted a picture of Y/N, kissed her cheek, and everyone had assumed they were together? He frowned and shook his head of the awful thought, now understanding that maybe jealousy was that pit in his stomach he was currently experiencing.

Although Coach Washijo growled a little in response, Ushijima insisted that he would not be joining the team for a celebratory dinner. When Goshiki asked Tendō where Ushijima was going, he’d just shrug and smile saying, “He’s off to be a good boyfriend.”

It must’ve been strange, seeing this tall man running around town, looking confused and frustrated. Numerous people around him glanced back at him, watching him with questioning eyes as he passed but Ushijima didn’t even noticed. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

You weren’t really sure why you left so quickly after the game was over. You knew the longer you waited to have this conversation with Ushijima, the more awkward you’d feel and the more upset that he’d be that you hadn’t brought it up sooner.

It’s not like you were mad at him or anything - how could you be? It wasn’t like he was the one kissing her, or that he had known she was going to do that - you knew it wasn’t the latter since Ushijima wasn’t all that big on PDA anyways so there was no way he’d be okay with it with some random girl... you hoped at least.

So if you weren’t mad, why did you run? You frowned as you tried to think of a good excuse, trying to tear apart the reasons for your behaviour. But all you could really think of is how insecure you had felt, seeing that picture. That girl was everything and you were... well what even were you?

Ushijima didn’t know how to beat around the bush - he didn’t know anything but being blunt and honest. So he had to be with you for a reason right? If he wanted to break up with you, he would’ve... right?

You groaned quietly, stuffing your face into the pillow you were holding into your lap. You needed to text him - he was probably wondering why you didn’t stay till after the game. But he hadn’t even texted you... hadn’t called... maybe he hadn’t noticed? You glanced at your phone one more time, as if waiting to see a notification you had missed or a text that you hadn’t heard the alert for.

Maybe you should just call him. Maybe if he hadn’t noticed, you both could just go out for food or have a nice night in and you could forget you ever saw that photo. You nodded slightly at your plan, moving your finger to call him.

But a knock on your door distracted you. You looked up at the sound, glancing between that and your phone.

You dragged yourself out of bed, starting to type out a very nonchalant casual text to Ushijima as you made your way downstairs. Though it was very obvious once you opened the door that the text wasn’t needed.

“Y/N.”

What was it about the way he said your name that sent chills down your spine?

You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing that all that time spent coming up with excuses was useless because here he was right in front of you, panting slightly, and you were drawing a blank.

“H-Hi, Ushijima,” you hesitated slightly, both standing there awkwardly until he nodded towards the inside of your house.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, his voice more gentle than usual even with his heavy breathing.

You nodded slowly and let him in, watching as he tucked his shoes away and stood in front of you as if waiting for you to say something.

“So... congratulations on your win,” you offered after moments of silence.

His eyes just watched you, as if checking to make sure you were okay, “Your friend said you had to leave. They also mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Is that why you didn’t stay?”

You stuttered out some sort of syllables that were no where near to being words as your boyfriend placed his hand on your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his other hand, “You don’t feel feverish but you are a bit warm,” he stated quietly. “Would you like me to make you some soup?”

You shook your head quickly, stepping back from him slightly, “I’m okay, Ushijima, promise. My... stomach just didn’t feel right.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched you, “Your stomach?”

You nodded, staring at your feet. You should just be honest, shouldn’t you? Ushijima was always honest with you. But what if you were honest and he came to the same realization - that he could do better than you?

“So this has nothing to do with that Instagram post?” Ushijima’s voice was stiffer this time around, almost... awkward? He shifted on his feet, trying to get you to look at him but when you wouldn’t, he just gently put his fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. “Please talk to me, darling.”

It was as if you had been hiding tears this whole time and didn’t even realize it. But the softness in his voice and his eyes, the way he touched you, just made your eyes start to tear up, “It’s stupid,” you admitted after a moment and Ushijima’s thumb wiped away a tear that escaped you. “I know you don’t even know her.”

He nodded in response, stepping a bit closer to you now, “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he told you, confirming what you had already assumed. “But I’m sorry.”

You gave a little laughing, shaking your head, ��Ushijima, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you take pictures with your fans sometimes.”

“No, I’m sorry because I didn’t understand why you would be upset at it at first. But Tendō helped me understand. Please don’t go taking photos like that with other men,” Ushijima asked you and made you laugh again. “I... I wouldn’t like it.” He admitted shyly, his lips turning to a small smile as he watched you laugh.

“She’s rather pretty though,” you mumbled softly, finally wiping the rest of your tears that were building in your eyes. “I just... You two look really good together.”

Ushijima seemed to think about this, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling as he considered your words, “She’s not ugly.” He stated simply, finally looking back down at you. “But I have no feelings towards her.”

“Feelings can be developed,” you suggested, hating every word that was coming from your mouth. Why were you arguing for him to leave you? Why were you trying to convince him?

Ushijima gave a chuckle this time, patting your head softly, “Why would I want to develop feelings for anyone else when I have so many feelings for you? You have nothing to be jealous over, love.”

Ushijima always said things with such honesty and you knew he would never say anything he didn’t mean... but didn’t he know there were girls out there much better than you?

“You are the one I want to be with. Not anyone else. All those girls I see at my games all look the same. But when I look at you,” Ushijima let his thumb graze over your lips gently, a small smirk on his lips, “I have to remind myself to stop looking at you. I have to tell myself that I’m staring. Before we started dating, Tendō told me you might think I was creepy because I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

You giggled, trying to not focus on the tingles this man’s finger left on your lips, “Oh ya?”

Ushijima just nodded firmly and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. I couldn’t care less about anyone else. Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - you knew you did but how long would it be before he realized just how incredible he was?

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to shove down all of your anxieties.

He watched you and even though you were saying yes, there was something about the way you were standing that didn’t match with your words. Ushijima wasn’t the best at understanding people, but he knew you. “Everyone of those fans would stop coming up to me if I wasn’t as good at volleyball. One day, when I can’t play as well anymore, or if I ever get injured, all those fans will disappear. But the only one I’d still want with me is you. That’s how I know I love you.”

And even if it was just for a moment, all your anxieties stopped. You smiled to yourself and threw your arms around him into a tight hug. Ushijima’s massive arms wrapped around you as he pressed more kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Next time, please talk to me honestly,” he whispered to you.

You nodded into his shoulder, closing your eyes tightly and murmuring back, “I love you too.”

The two of you would end up in your room, curled up with some show playing in the background before you’d sit up in realization, blinking at him in surprise, “Hang on, didn’t the team go for your celebration dinner?”

Ushijima shrugged and nodded, glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen, “Yeah they should be done soon. I imagine Tendō will text me to make sure you’re okay after.”

Your forehead creased in worry, staring at him, “Did... Did they drop you off on the way or something?”

Ushijima’s eyes shared your level of confusion, tilting his head as he tried to think about your question, “Why would they?”

“Ushijima, how the hell did you get here?” You asked with wide eyes, remembering how out of breath he was and wanting to hear the words from his lips.

“I ran,” he stated simply as if it was such a casual thing to do. “Is that important to know?”

“Babe, your tournament was across the city,” you gaped, mouth open slightly as your eyes widened even further. “That must’ve been such a long run, especially after a game!”

Ushijima thought for a moment, thinking about how the team had to take a bus to the games today, and how Y/N had to take transit. His mind tried to calculate the distance, though it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer. He just shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he settled back into your bed, “I could’ve gone farther,” was all he said as he pulled you in for some more cuddles, “as long as it was for you.”

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @wolfishwriting @livy384

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x y/n #hq ushijima #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima x you #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff

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bestie-enthusiast · 3 years

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Chapter 3: Sam Fills in, Zemo is not Impressed (and also has his first therapy appointment)

Hello!! This is the third chapter of my PTA! Dad! Zemo fic. This is the fifth installment of 11, and the previous chapters can be found under the hashtag pta dad zemo.

Fic Summary: After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.

And yet, here we are.

This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.

Chapter WC: 1731

Fic below cut if you're interested!

Three days later.

Zemo frowned slightly as he listened to Carol’s rant. She had called an “emergency” PTA meeting (and he was fairly certain she paid the principal to let her do it), but there was no real emergency. Instead all Carol was doing was going on and on about how her son was being “bullied” for his lack of potty training. Her child was in fourth grade, of course the other children were making fun of him.

Even worse was that Sarah hadn’t been able to come in, she was at work, and so her brother had come instead. Zemo had met him only once, at a charity event the school was hosting, and he was not at all subtle in his distaste for Zemo. So he sat in silence listening to Carol’s ranting. No one was in the mood to tell her to shut up, so they all just sat there and waited for her to tire herself out.

Once Carol was done seething she looked at them expectantly, but no one said anything. No one dared to move an inch as they waited for Carol to completely calm down. Eventually, Carol stormed out with a huff and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. A few people stood up, and Zemo stood after them. He started to walk out when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He instinctively tensed up but turned around. It was Sam.

“Sorry to bother you man, but Sarah said your, uh, butler was with AJ and Cass at a park? Sarah didn’t tell me where, so could I tag along with you?” He asked awkwardly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he spoke.

“Of course.” Zemo said, nodding. Sam trailed behind him quietly as they began their walk. Zemo almost forgot he was there, with how silent he was being. He thought about all the things he’s ever said or done to hurt any member of the Wilson family, hoping he could think of something to apologise for. He couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t already apologised for or done something to make up for, so he assumed Sam had a different reason to not like him. He didn’t wish to assume it was because of his financial state.

Eventually they made their way to the park, where Oeznik was dutifully watching over Carl, AJ, and Cass. He gave a muttered goodbye to Sam and hurried over to Carl, gently leading him away and following Oeznik to the car.

He absentmindedly listened to Carl talk about his school day as he pulled open his messenger app. He texted Sarah, just to make sure she was okay and not because Sam filling in had reminded him of how lonely he actually was. Sarah texted him back that she was busy with work, and then asked why Sam was so pissed at him. He replied that he didn’t know and she just sent back an eye roll emoji, so he let the conversation end.

He conversed with Carl on the rest of the way back, reminding himself that Sarah was just an acquaintance, and that he shouldn’t let himself get distracted from the only thing that actually mattered, that being Carl.

Sure Sarah was the only person who he trusted outside of Carl and Oeznik, but Carl was the only person that actually mattered to him any more. His consultation with Dr. Raynor was tomorrow, and while he was initially enthusiastic at the prospect, he now regarded the appointment with dread.

After letting out a quiet sigh, Zemo plastered on a large, fake grin, and helped Carl with his school work while Oeznik prepared dinner. He helped Carl get ready for bed, but tonight he did not even bother attempting to fall asleep. He holed himself up in his office, working on things until his hands shook and cramped and his vision grew blurry, at which point he took a cold shower, and resumed work.

Eventually it came time for him to get ready, so he gently woke up Carl to tell him he had an early meeting out of town, but he would be back in time to collect him from school. Carl nodded sleepily and Zemo quietly got dressed, did his hair, and carefully completed his skin care routine.

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he got into his car and started the long commute to Dr. Raynors office. If he decided to keep her as his full time therapist, he would need to find a shorter way to her office, or perhaps have only phone sessions.

He arrived fifteen minutes early, and spent the time analyzing the decor of her office and fiddling with his phone. Soon enough it was his own name being called. He stood and entered the office, shaking hands with Dr. Raynor when she offered.

“And you are… Helmut Zemo, correct?” He nodded, so used to the mispronunciation of his first name on the rare occasions it was used that he couldn’t be bothered to correct her.

“Yes, but I prefer to be referred to by just my last name.” Mentally he tacked on, ‘because you Americans say it wrong and I can’t be expected to deal with that.’

“Sure.” She said, writing something down in her notebook. “So I’ve looked over all your paperwork, but I want to know, coming from you directly, why you are here.” She said, and it didn’t sound at all like a question, more like a straight fact.

“I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, you specialise in that.” He said simply, it was the main reason anyway. He did not comment on how he believed their personalities would match, as he was only here for her to consult on whether or not she would take him on as a patient.

“Right,” She said, rolling her eyes. Zemo held back a smile, she rather reminded him of his wife- oh.

She would not work as his therapist. He thought that she would work well, as she could call him out when he refused to do it himself, but no. Talking to her, talking about his emotions to her, would just remind him too much of Heike. Zemo struggled to keep a smirk on his face, or at the very least a neutral look, while she asked him questions. He responded at least somewhat honestly, and then they continued.

“So I’m going to be honest with you, I really only take on patients that peak my interest, and you haven’t.” Zemo held back a wince at the admission, although he supposed he was purposefully making himself that way. He only talked about his time as a Sokovian soldier, not at all about the loss of his wife (or father, but that issue was buried so deep that he forgot about it on occasion), or his obsession over Carl’s schooling and keeping him happy. He did not mention the fact that he felt a rather immense amount of guilt for feeling any sort of attraction, or that he was lonely. And he purposefully kept his face as straight and closed as he possibly could throughout their entire conversation. And so Zemo couldn’t help but relax a tad bit at the statement. No wife-like therapist for him, her death was not an issue he was ready to tackle yet like he thought when he made the appointment.

“Are you- Are you relieved?” She asked incredulously, and Zemo only blinked. She had noticed the slight change in his posture when she had said that. Oops.

“I could tell we were not going to get along.” Zemo replied, and it was the truth. Or partial truth? They would get along, rather spectacularly, according to all the personality assessments the people who left reviews had said. That's what he didn’t want though, he wanted to be detached and unreliant on whichever therapist he acquired, he would become far too attached to Dr. Raynor due to her similar personality to his wife.

“That is utter bullshit. You read the reviews before coming, you knew what I was like before you even came into this room. Why are you relieved I don’t want you as my patient?” Zemo frowned and licked his lips, he was not about to tell her about his wife before they ever had a proper session. “That information is… confidential. And you are not my confidant.” Zemo replied snarkily, who did this woman think she was? She already said no, and yet here she was, still questioning him?

“I’ve changed my mind, you are a very interesting case.” Zemo didn’t know how to feel about that.

“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I have not changed mine.” Zemo said, giving the doctor one last, polite, smile before standing up. She stood up as well and he held out his hand for a shake, which she did.

“If you reconsider, you know my number.” She said, before letting go. He nodded and started to walk out the door. Once he was in the waiting room he was surprised to find James sitting in there, fiddling with his phone. Carefully keeping his footsteps quiet, he kept his head down and walked past James, who looked up.

“Zemo?” James asked in surprise, and he turned around to give James a smile, a real one.

“Ah, hello Mr. Barnes.” Zemo greeted back, feeling the all too familiar flutter in his heart at the sight of James. Guilt and shame crashed over him like they did every time he felt that flutter, but it didn’t deter it in the slightest.

“Bucky, please. I didn’t know you knew Dr. Raynor,” James commented with a small smile.

“Y-yes well, I’m just here for a consultation appointment.” Zemo stuttered, that smile made his heart do things, such as sending blood southwards. “Well, Dr. Raynor is the best at what she does.” James responded with a smirk, and a shrug. Zemo gave him another smile, a quick wave, and then he was on his way. As soon as he was out of the building he called Dr. Raynor left her a voicemail stating he had changed his mind, and would like to become a regular client. Seeing James every so often in a non-school setting would be worth it, maybe he’d get to see that smile pointed at him again.

Tagging: @morganbritton132 (Who came up with this AU) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (Who is a great and suportive friend!)

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mulletcal · 4 years

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flowers, maybe daisies, might relieve the gloom. - an a.i blurb

a/n: i lowkey blame @sexgodashton for starting this whole mini series of boomer!ash things, but i also adore this because boomer!ash is soft as hell. and also a lil d*ddy but we don’t need to talk about that. title is from wait by sweeney todd bc i love it. alternative title was gonna be from L.G. FUAD by motion city soundtrack

word count:

warnings: ashton irwin being a thirst trapping, lemon stealing whore. i’m kidding it’s just a solo ash fic w no smut but some mild ash thirst trapping.

-----

‘ashtonirwin started a live video.’

Ashton didn’t often go live on Instagram, but this shelter in place order had left him ultimately bored - writing a song every day before noon, sure, but anything after that was a blur. Occasionally he would have interviews or live-streams with the band, but on days without that he was left alone with his thoughts, and his thoughts weren’t always the safest place to be; so talking to fans it was.

It was going well so far, simply asking fans how their quarantine was going - bringing some of them into the livestream so he could talk to some face to face. One girl in particular had caught his attention when they began to discuss hobbies she had picked up during the time she’d spent at home.

“Yeah, I’m learning to garden. I have a tomato plant that is just starting to sprout actual tomatoes, so that’s kind of exciting,” She had said, a nervous laugh escaping.

“Well, I would hope that your tomato plant is sprouting tomatoes, it would be a little concerning if it was growing something else,” Ashton replied with a chuckle, the girl giving a small shrug but still laughing along with him.

“You should look into it if you’ve got the room at your house, I bet it would feel rather rewarding to be able to cook something with your own fresh vegetables.”

“Would save me quite a bit of money too. Can I grow yeast? I’d like to learn how to make my own bread but here in L.A. you can’t find yeast anywhere.”

The conversation continued like that for a few minutes more, Ashton taking only a couple more fans into the livestream after that to talk to before he decided he should probably do something else productive with his day. Something like learning to garden.

It surprised Ashton the things you were able to order online during this time - soil being the main thing. He also read that saving coffee grounds would help, and he was excited at the idea of his insane coffee habit wouldn’t be completely useless. He ended up buying seeds for tomatoes, mint, sunflowers, lemongrass, and zucchini. The lemongrass and mint was specifically for Calum, realizing he would be able to dry the plants out once he had harvested them so he could make the man his very own tea.

When his package finally arrived, Ashton spread the packages out, sliding them across the table as though he was some card dealer in Las Vegas. Thinking the fans would find it amusing, he took a picture of the spread and added it to his story with the caption of ‘pick a card, any card…’. Maybe it would only be funny to him, but it did prompt a fire reaction from Michael.

It seemed as though the reaction from fans were positive though, them taking to Twitter to let him know their excitement about his new endeavour. That’s where his weekly livestreams began. He would show everyone the progress he was making with his plants, and just in general him chatting with fans. Ashton never really thought of how refreshing it could be to just talk to the fans, without the worry of time restrictions or anyone’s personal safety in the way; in fact, it left him rather inspired, loving their fans even more if it were at all possible.

A particularly warm day in L.A. left Ashton wondering if he should go out to the garden that day - but it was the day he would normally livestream, and he was excited to show what he was up to that day. Ashton wanted to plant another tomato plant, and also the lemons on his infamous tree had enough for him to make some lemonade so he was going to go through that as well.

Clad in some cut off jeans, or as Calum so affectionately called them his jorts, and a white tank top, he pulled up the live option on Instagram and waited for the people to begin to filter in before he started to speak.

“Hey guys! Just gonna wait for more of you to filter in before I actually head outside, but I thought that since you guys love my lemon tree so much, I’d make some lemonade. Fuck, I sound like a YouTuber. Is that gonna be my next career, is just YouTube tutorials on how to make shitty lemonade?” Ashton laughed to himself, slicing the lemon so he could juice it, ignoring the comments he saw about murdering his lemon children.

It didn’t take him long to make the lemonade, making mild conversation with the fans while he stirred in a little bit of sugar and some cheat mint he had ordered while waiting for his own to grow.

“Alright, now that I’m waiting for that to cool, probably best we go outside and check on those tomatoes, hm?”

It had been weird at first, talking to himself; but he quickly realized that he talked to himself anyways, even without the phone in front of him, so it couldn’t have been too weird for anyone who could overhear him.

“So I wanted to plant another tomato plant today, because everyone can use a friend right now, you know?” He looked into the camera, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the flood of cute little emojis that followed. “M’gonna be like the Bob Ross of gardening. No mistakes, only happy accidents or whatever it was he said.”

Ashton began to work away at his garden, building up a sweat in the process. It wasn’t until he leaned back, glancing at his phone did he see a text from Michael flash across the top.

‘Mate, Crystal said stop thirst trapping the fans.’

Ashton’s brow furrowed, unsure of what the text was saying, “Okay so I just got a text from Michael - what’s thirst trapping? And am I currently doing it?”

Of all the comments that followed, he noticed one that said ‘I mean… I’m not gonna say either way but take a look at yourself and get back to us’. Another one told him that it was when someone wears something in order to provoke risque texts, or gain attention from someone.

Ashton pouted, looking down at his appearance. He was kind of sweaty, but he didn’t think that the fans would mind him being covered in dirt and sweat, it’s not as though they had to smell him. Though, he would admit that he needed a shower.

“Well, since my tomato plant has been… planted next to its’ friend, and I’m apparently thirst trapping you all, I should probably go shower and clean up. Is me mentioning a shower thirst trapping as well?” Ashton rubbed his face over his hands, a small huff leaving his lips, “I don’t know… Fellow youths, tweet me and lemme know. Also, may hold a poll later on what to name these guys.” He flipped the camera around, struggling for a moment, to show the sunflowers that were starting to sprout, “M’thinking of naming one Denise. Just seems like a Denise.”

After his small speech was over, he ended the stream, grinning to himself. He hadn’t meant to show off his body in such a way, but it was funny to know that even with him hardly doing anything but be himself they still lost their shit.

Glancing around at his garden, he felt himself swell with a mild sense of pride. He was still a ways off from seeing any fruits of his labour (literally), but it made him feel good knowing he did something with his time at home, instead of slipping further into his mind which wasn’t always the kindest to him.

Ashton realized that when he was gardening, it was similar to songwriting in a way where all of his self doubts and fears went away and he could just pour himself into it - the reward being well worth the risk in the end.

Once his shower was done, he sat outside in his backyard, sipping his lemonade and enjoying the sunshine - realizing that having to stay home wasn’t all too bad, if it meant he could reset his mind, and do some small part to help how he could during that time.

tag list: @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @mantlereid @inlovehoodx @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @g-l-pierce @thecurlsofgod

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #boomer!ash

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

“LONG NIGHTS, LONGEST WAIT”.

Michael “Riz” Ariza x Reader (Taza's daughter)

@dazzledamazon asked: If you don’t mind do you mind writing anything for Hank or Riz?

Word count: 1647.

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. The gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

The back against the wall, your kneels on your chest and the face supported in. You're crying. You don't know how happened, when you started. But anxiety is oppressing your body, feeling that you can't breath with a knot inside the throat. You didn't heard the frontdoor opening and closing in seconds, neither the steps walking to your room. When Taza finds you, he runs to your bed holding you in his arms.

“Hey, baby, what's up?” Sounds worried, leaving some kisses on top of your head. You're sobbing harder, shrugging.

“Did I... Did I something wrong, dad?” Look at him, tears running over your cheeks without non-stop.

“About what? What happens, mi niña?”

“It's Riz. He hasn't call me or text me back for days”.

Club decission was keep silence to you about the fact that Ariza was shot by the Vatos Malditos in an ambush. He knows you since ever, but months ago you started a kind of relationship together. No tags, nothing seriously. But both keep fidelity to the other. Your father was good with that, preferring one of his best friends for his lovely and badass daughter, than an asshole he doesn't know.

Taza cleans your tears with his fingers, taking your cheeks between his hands to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose. He's aware of how much you love the Mayan, and how much he loves you, but things are better of this way.

“Listen, he had to go to Charming. Samcro needs his help and you know how is him. No phone while his out of Santo Padre. No distractions”.

“Yea', but he also comes here, grabs some food with me and we watch a movie. Then he leaves”.

“Baby, everything was so fast, we couldn't say nothing. And I forgott it, I'm sorry”.

There's something in his voice that doesn't convince you, but you nod before hugging him without saying anything else.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Weeks passed away so slow that it was killing you. You're checking the phone every minute, waiting for a call or a simply message with an emoji. But nothing. A sigh in your lips, putting it in the back pocket of your jeans to start your work at Danny's bar. A place for bikers outside of Santo Padre. It's saturday and it's full of men laughing, arguing and drinking. You hate it, but it's money in your bank account. Actually, you don't need it, because your father can afford anything you want or you need. But you're too overactive to do nothing.

Thanks to god you have a clock in front of the bar to check how many minutes are left to your break. If you have to listen again someone calling you “sweetie”, “princess” or something like, you're gonna break them a bottle of tequila on their hairy heads. Everything is served, so you support your waist in a fridge, checking again your phone.

“Cutie, your father is here. Be quickly”, the jerk of your boss calls you. With an eyebrow upped you look at the back exit. For an instant, a lot of ideas dance in your mind, some worst than others. You run like never before, like soul the devil wants to takes away. When the cold air hits your face, your legs get stucked on the floor.

The whole MC is there. Motorbikes on, helmets covering their heads and strange smiles on their faces. What the hell is going on? Then, you see him. Riz is there too. But you can't walk. You're shocked. After almost two months, ‘he's finally home’ and the first thing he did is come to see you. You break in tears, trembling, while your legs start to move running at him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you jump to surround his waist with the legs. He holds you, as always, giving you the warmest hug ever.

“I'm sorry”, he says hidding his face between your neck and your shoulder.

You missed him, he did it too. You've been never apart for so long and this pain is something that the whole California could feel.

“(Y/N), 'got to tell you something... Listen...” Putting feet on the floor, you look at him, cleaning your tears nodding. He's nervous, more than you can even know and can't understand why. “I wasn't in... Charming”.

“What? Where the hell did you go?”

Silence. He bites his upper lip, putting his eyes away, somewhere over the road. You feel like he cheated on you and you're about to cry inconsolably again.

“I get shooted”.

The world falls down. Your heart stop beating for a moment and you're eyes get opened more than they actually can. Thinking in the idea of lose him, makes you wanna die, like you two were Romeo and Juliet. The jump you make to your father wasn't even planned, wanting to punch him till blood decorates the floor. But Riz is faster, holding you while you scream how much you hate him and the kind of son of a bitch he is.

“Hey, hey, hey, listen, listen, (Y/N)!”

“You fucking asshole!” You punch him in the chest, getting free of his arms, with furious tears meeting in your chin.

You want to hit him again, being stopped by his hands hugging you again, trying to calm yourself. But this isn't a possibility. It hurts. It hurts so much you can't breathe, sobbing harder with your eyes closed. You should have been there, in the hospital, with him by fucking right. Telling him everything was gonna be ok. But club decision. Fuck club decision!

“We're going to Vegas”, he mutters.

Your cry stops. Like it's never been there before. You don't know where all the strenght to push him away comes from. The heavy breathe you're taking scared the shit out of the MC and make them feel confused. Taking away the heavy rings in your fingers, you punch him in the nose, making him womble.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Two months without knowing about you, without sleeping, crying every fucking night. Praying for you! And you have the fucking face to come here and tell me you're going to Las Vegas?! For what? Play poker and fuck some bitches?! Go to fucking hell, Michael! I wish they had shot you in the fucking head!”

Nobody has ever broken your heart, but the pain you feel inside your chest consuming you seems so similar. You can't believe something like this is happening. And your father is part of it, your family. How the fuck can he allows that someone treats her daughter so disrespectful, making her cry? You're pretty sure you broke Riz's nose, because of the vibration you felt in your knuckles, and he complaining tilted to the ground. Both hands on his bloody face.

“Fuck you, Ariza! Fuck the fucking MC! FUCK ALL THE FUCKING MAYANS! AND FUCK YOU ALL!”

Before turning around you can see your father supporting his head on the handlebar with a sigh. You wanna run. Run to nowhere and never come back. If you die at this point of the life, you wouldn't even mind.

“We're going to Vegas, to marry me”.

Like a whisper the wind brings to you, your body get shocked. Stuck in the middle of the bar parking. Maybe it's been an illusion, something that you would like to heard instead he's gonna get drunk and fuck another girl.

“What the... fuck did you said?” When you turn back with incredulity in your voice, Riz has a knee nailed to the ground, holding a ring in the air while still growling in pain because of his nose.

“Shit, man... Bring me some fucking ice, (Y/ N)”.

“I will”, Tranq rolls his eyes getting off of his bike, passing away you two and coming inside the bar.

You can't say anything. Looking the jewel he's trying to give you in a kind of formal proposition. When you woke up that morning, the last thing you could expect to happen is get married. With Riz.

“Dad, the fuck he drank?”

The crew breaks in laughs, while your confusion grows.

“Listen... Fuck, it hurts too much, shit...”, Michael tries to talk, having to take a few seconds before continue. “Those bullets went to Taza. I just... stopped them like a shield... This... Shit, you broke my fucking nose, niña...”

You cross your arms on your chest, you're not gonna say that you're proud, but he deserved it.

“God dammit... This gave me the right to marry you. And I love you and... shit, now I'm not sure if you do”.

“Hold it”, Tranq gives him some ice wrapped in a rag, putting it on his face.

“Could you please... just take the fucking ring and say ‘yes’?”

You walk to him by slow steps and doubting about what you should say. Yes, you wanna marry him. You love him since you can remember, even if this feeling changed through time to something more ‘romantic’. Bitting your lip, you finally take the ring with a small diamond in it. He sighs getting up, before you're allowed to hug him.

“I thought I wouldn't have to go back to the hospital in a while, but... shit, nena. I really need it”.

#mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #mayans x reader #riz ariza x reader #michael riz ariza #riz ariza

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fanficwithyn · 6 years

Text

Bite - Alec Lightwood X Reader p.3

Request: @kittycatcarter2343 Finale of Bite

Tag: @petah-parkah-and-potahtas

A/N: Just a warning, this is quite long. 2000+ words And these words turning into emojis irritate meeee gah. It loses the moment in the scene! And yes, I know it’s been MONTHS since I posted part 2. I’m sorryyyy. I confess that I didn’t know how to end this and school with 3 research papers to do is so time demanding. 2000+ words

“Did he tell you anything?” You asked Simon as you rush down to the stairwell. “No, no, nothing. Why?” He asked as he struggle to keep up with you “🆗, good.” You said ignoring his question.

“Could you-Could you please slow down a bit?” he told you a bit louder than the usual, giving up on trying to keep up with your pace.

You looked back at him “I’m really sorry, Simon.” you said, walking away. You may not be as close to Simon as Clary is to him - those two have a solid relationship with one another - but you two also have your own friendship and admitting it to Simon would equally still be distressing.

Simon was left looking puzzled. He only asked you to slow down, not to abandon him in the dining room.

Once you’ve reached the entryway you recognized Bat Velasquez observing the walls and ceiling of the Institute. “Never been inside an Institute?” When he turned to see you he eyed you from heel to head which you responded by arching your left brow.

“Nothing.” he said and shrugged.

You slowly walked near to him. “So.. uhm, Should I get going tonight?” you asked. “That’s the order I recieved.“ he said as if having no choice.

“Okay.” You said and pointed at your back. “I’ll just get my things. I hope you can wait more.” you said and turned away.

Bat has already met up with you once outside Pandemonium to tell you that a silent brother has spoken with the Praetor about your condition. The alliance is willing to accept you in their House but will free you as soon as the change don’t happen. It was good, you thought, being away from all of them especially if things get a nasty turn in a few weeks.

“Go where?“ Simon suddenly appeared in front of you just as you were about to go upstairs “By the angel, Simon!” you said as you clutched your chest, trying to calm yourself.

”Go, where???“ he asked again with more force. “Simon,” you said looking at him. “Its nothing. We’re just going outside. For a walk. Talk. We’re friends.” You explained to him.

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you one bit, Y/L/N. What about what he said about you going with him as an order?” You frowned at him. “Were you eavesdropping?!” you asked taken a back. “So I was right.” He leaned on the railing of the stairs and fold his arms. “It’s none of your business, Simon.” You respond and started to climb up the stairs.

“So you’re leaving? Without—“ You put your hand on his mouth to shut him up. In which he continued to talk in muffled noise in his defense. “Stop talking.” You told him sternly as you pull him with you up to your bedroom where no one will hear you two talking.

Once there, you took your hand off of his mouth and suddenly his mouth began to blabber words of reason to you. You sighed and roll your eyes at him. “Fine! Okay! I’ll explain!” he paused for a second and said “Thank you!” then sat next to you on your bed.

After explaining it to Simon including the reason in going to the Praetor House, he just stared straight into the wall with his mouth hanging open, not saying anything. You knew this was going to happen. It was foolish of you to think that he would be able to handle this. Your mind racing with thoughts of regret. Deciding that the loudness of the silence is enough, you broke the ice. “You know what I hope you would do right at this moment?” “What?” he asked and looked at you. “That you would say something.”

“I’m sorry.” he said, exhaling a bit. “It is a shock,Y/N. But–” he cut his own words and embraced you tightly. You embraced him tightly in return, pouring all your bottled tears and emotions into the hug.

When he pulled away he looked at your face entirely and said, “You. don’t. have. to. worry.” as he softly point at you which made you laugh. He smiled and said “All of you loved and accepted me when I turned into a vampire. Even Jace and Alec and we didn’t even grew up together. Which is crazy.”

“Now you with Izzy, Alec and Jace, you four have grown up together. You saw each other in your first mark ceremony, celebrated birthdays, and been with them in countless missions. They would never abandon you. Love and camaraderie won’t end with you being a werewolf. And I’m not assuming, Y/N. I’m telling you this from their perspective.”

His words made you hug him again. “Thank you, Simon, really. I appreciate it.” And you broke the hug. “Just doing a friend’s responsibilty, Ma'am.” he formally replied and saluted to you. You laughed in response and hit him softly on his arm.

You stood up and walked to your closet, packing some of your clothes and other necessities. “You’re still leaving?” asked Simon. You faced him and said “Si, I have to. I can’t possibly turn here in the Institute. No one’s an expert here when it comes to newly turned werewolves.” he sighed, clearly yielding out “You’re right.”

“Oh, uhm, before I forget..” You moved to your bedside drawer and retrieved the letter you have written for Alec and handed it to Simon.

“The full moon is a night from now. Give that to Alec the day of the full moon.” He nodded slowly and said “Sure.” “Thank you, Si.” you said and kissed him on the cheek.

You picked up your bag and bid Simon goodbye.

“Good day, Ms. Y/L/N.” Praetor Scott had greeted you with a soft smile shortly just after arriving at the Praetor House. He was a middle aged man, with blonde hair streaked with grey color.

You smiled in response. “I assume you already know the reason wh–” you normally don’t cut people in their mid sentence but you’re fed up of them reminding you of the reason why you are in this state right now. “Yeah, I know, Sr.”

The Praetor looked a bit taken a back but kept his composure and sighed. “Bat, if you please.” Bat bowed before Praetor Scott and gripped your arm dragging you out of the Praetor’s office.

“Before you drag me completely off of this floor, kindly, please, tell me where we’re going?” Bat continued to walk briskly not even wasting a second to look back at you. And he still hasn’t replied to you. You made a small rumbling sound which, to your surprise, he replied. “Up to your room.”

You spent the night tossing and turning on your bed, with you seeing the near full moon out the window, not able to shut off your mind from thinking when suddenly, you remembered Alec’s jacket. You got up to get it from your bag and took it with you on your bed.

You inhaled the smell of the jacket, recognizing Alec’s familiar scent; the thought of him calmed the storm of thoughts in your mind and soon enough, you fell asleep with the jacket in your embrace.

Morning passed and dusk came. It was fifteen minutes past five. There is exactly forty-five minutes before the moon is out.

Bat has appeared in the garden of the House to escort you to the basement. You figured that’s where they’ll lock you in for the night.

The basement, surprisingly, was clean. It looks as if things were all brand new, it is kept tidy for years. It also had several large rooms. Some are with bars, looking like a prisoner’s jail; some are looking like interrogation rooms with a small window on the door side. The only things that were similar between the rooms are the medium sized windows at the top right of the wall which reveals the night sky and of course, four impacted chains to the wall.

A few minutes upon entering the room, Praetor Scott had followed in and took a glance at the chains beside you then to your hands. Putting a cold facade to hide the apprehension, you asked “I’ve surrendered to your clan. You’d protect me, wouldn’t you?” “Right.”

“So why aren’t you binding, at the least, my wrists into the chains?” He looked straight at you for a few seconds before calling in Bat when you heard the clacking sounds above you.

The Praetor’s face had completely changed from being collected to being vigilant. He tasked Bat to go up the hall and check in on the situation. After, he took the chains on his hands and carefully secured it to both of your wrists. “Binding your ankles to the chains won’t be necessary, unless you appear to be making big rackets while turning.”

The beating of your heart had increased. Sweat trickled down the side of your face, your mouth slowly drying. You looked down at the ground.

Soon, all the noise above has come to rest and Bat returned to the room with a few members of the clan. He whispered to the Praetor and he looked at you before nodding as a sign of approval. Bat pulled the door wide open and ushered the others to come inside.

Only then did you raise your head when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. A voice that had always sounded like home. Alec. Alec was here. You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Alec..” you whispered with such happiness but accompanied too, with longingness.

He quickly dropped down to the ground in front of you, wearing a look of relief and confusion. He scanned your body, looking for possible bruises. “It’s not yet happening, Alec.” you told him softly trying to catch his eyes.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t care, okay? I don’t care. You could turn into a vampire, a werewolf, a faerie or whatever creature, I don’t care.” He said firmly holding onto both of your cheeks, he stares at you fiercely.

“You could change, yes, but I would gladly and willingly accept that because it’s a part of you, and my love won’t stop even if there’s a cliff or threat in front of me. This is no finish line, Y/N.” His voice grew louder, making sure you hear every word he say. His face scrunching into a pained one, as if begging for you to not let him go.

“I told you already, whatever happens, I would still and always love you. Even if I have to endure sleepless nights making sure your pain, if not completely lost, at the least make it bearable for you.” Quiet tears have flown down to your face,

“The letter you left? It’s like Jace’s jokes. Nonsense. And not one bit funny even, Y/N. You leaving won’t ever be funny.” You laughed a bit at his words, and his lips formed a relieved smile. “You’re like blood in my veins, as long as I live, it’s never gone.”

Alec touched his forehead to yours before kissing away your tears, then finally falling on your lips. It was bittersweet. It was a mix of sorrow and love and feelings left unsaid yet understood in every movement. His hand that caressed your cheek felt like a radiant touch of sun, a sweet warmth, spreading over you.

When you both pulled away he said quietly “I would cheat death for you. That’s how far I would dare go for you.” As he stare at you as if caught in a trance.

The room was all silent until Jace’s cough echoed across the room “I’m sorry to interrupt your “moment” but I just want to tell you that MY jokes are funny, Alec. THEY are funny.” The rest of the gang had groaned and rolled their eyes. Clary just smacked her forehead, as if very disappointed.

“They are not, Jace.” You responded, feeling the atmosphere getting lighter. His face turned into a shock, looking so offended, holding on his chest.

--------------------------------------------END---------------------------------------------------

A/N: Okay, so guys, this is supposed to be the end, however if you want another part to show what happens in the full moon, comment down if you want the female lead or in other words, you, to turn into a werewolf or not so that I’ll have a guide. :) AND I promise to post it after a few weeks. PROMISE. I hope you enjoyed this one <3

#alec x reader #aleclightwoodxreader #alexanderlightwoodxreader #aleclightwood #shadowhunters #alexanderlightwood #the mortal instruments #lightwood #shadowhunters imagine

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years

Text

Christmas Daughter Series - McCree

Just a little belated Christmas sweetness between McCree and his Juniper! Inspired by Jesse’s Christmas sweater spray that is FANTASIC!!! Relatively short. Hope you like it!

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, Reaper, Soldier 76, Genji

McCree installments: part 2

Halloween Daughter Series: Roadhog, McCree, Genji, Reaper

Daughter Series AU: McCree - Monster Hunter

Christmas Daughter Series: Reaper, Roadhog, Hanzo

Christmas at Gibraltar was usually pretty quiet – just a few people left behind who didn’t have plans. Mercy went to her hometown to volunteer, Lucio went home to see his siblings and Mama, Torbjorn and Reinhardt went to see the engineer’s massive family, even Genji and Zenyatta had somewhere to be. Tracer had flown Emily to the base, though, so they were here, snuggled up on the couch. Winston was sitting by the small fake tree, drinking cocoa with a smile on. The chipper young woman, Mei, had arrived a week ago and seemed thoroughly happy to be with everyone, smiling warmly as McCree came into the room.

“Merry Christmas, McCree,” she sang, offering him a steaming mug topped with marshmallows.

“Thank you kindly, Mei,” he replied taking the drink with a chuckle. “Aren’t you sweet, making us hot chocolate like this.”

She flushed and giggled, “It’s my specialty!”

“Well we are mighty lucky to have you here,” the cowboy said tipping his hat and taking a sip.

Winston raised his mug to McCree as he took a seat.

“Morin,’ Winston.”

“Good morning, McCree,” the scientist replied. “Is Juniper with you?”

“Nah, I thought I’d let her sleep in while she could,” Jesse said with a stretch.

“Has she been sleeping better,” Tracer asked.

“Yeah, better, but not great. Not yet,” McCree said dejectedly.

He looked over to the couple as Lena put her hand on the cowboy's arm reassuringly. Then he frowned. “Emily, are you in a . . . poop emoji onesie?”

“You bet your chaps I am,” the redhead smirked. “Lena’s is a mermaid!”

The brunette Brit flopped on a hood with a plush seashell crown, making McCree burst out laughing. “I see why our speed demon here is a mermaid, but why’d you get stuck bein’ the foul end of a meal, Em?”

“Because, according to my dad, ‘I’m a little shit for not coming home for the holidays,’ not that he’s actually mad. Just being a troublemaker,” Emily explained.

McCree chuckled, “Sounds like a good man.”

“One of the best,” Tracer said fondly. “We’re video chatting around 3, right?” Emily nodded.

“Juniper, Hanzo,” Mei was suddenly chiming, “Merry Christmas!”

The archer and Juni came through the door one after another, one looking cheerful, the other . . . not so much.

“Merry Christmas Mei,” the youngest member of the team said brightly. Hanzo only nodded, bypassing the hot chocolate and standing by an end table, slightly removed from the others. As usual.

“Well I’ll be,” McCree said smirking at the eldest Shimada. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty surprised you decided to join us, Hanzo.”

He shrugged. “Your daughter caught me in the hall and all but dragged me here.”

“I did not,” Juniper retorted pretending to kick Hanzo as she passed him, “you came of your own volition.”

Hanzo scoffed and gave her a look.

“Okay, maybe I did a bit of convincing, but it didn’t take much,” Juni admitted, sitting next to her father. McCree instantly wrapped his arm around her and pecked her forehead.

“Either way, we are very glad to have you, Hanzo,” Winton said graciously, warranting a slight nod from the archer.

“Maybe you shoulda left him in the hall,” McCree whispered in Juniper’s ear. “He doesn’t seem to have much holiday spirit.”

“Can you blame him? The guy probably spent a whole bunch of Christmases alone since . . . ya know. And now, he has his brother back, but still doesn’t get to be with him today,” Juniper murmured back. “I just didn’t want him to be stuck in his room all day all by his lonesome.”

“Aw, sweetpea,” McCree laughed, “you’re our very own Cindy Lou-Hoo.”

She giggled, “Someone’s gotta keep the peace ‘round here.”

“Should we do presents now,” Mei asked, joining the other Overwatch members around the holographic tree.

“Everyone’s here,” Tracer said stretching under her girlfriend’s snuggles, “let’s do it!”

There was a small exchanging of gifts – Winston, being the one in the leader role, had bought everyone a little something. Mei had got each person on the base a pair of incredibly warm mittens and a matching hat. Tracer and Emily had designed and programmed a cute little ornament for each team member that popped up on the fake fir. Juniper hand made a stack of Christmas cards, and McCree had bought all of them a bottle of their favorite booze – except for Winston who preferred some strange imported cherry drink. And Juni of course. She was too young and too special to just get a jug of liquor.

“And one more for you, my little lady,” McCree grinned, pulling a package from behind the couch.

“McCree,” she squealed excitedly, pushing her long brunette hair behind her ears. She had the best toothy smile. “This box is too big! I told you not to get me anything over the top.”

“Why would you tell your dad not to spoil you,” Emily joked.

“Because he was going to bury me in gifts,” Juniper sputtered. “What did you say? Ten gifts for every year you missed and ten for this year, too?”

The cowboy snickered, “Fifteen, honeydew, fifteen.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Juni reeled as everyone else laughed. Even Hanzo had a small smirk.

“What?! I got a lot of making up to do,” McCree chuckled.

“I’ve told you before you don’t have any making up to do,” she insisted.

“Maybe I just feel like smothering you then!” He wrangled her into a tight hug, planting about a hundred kisses on her as she squirmed half-heartedly to get away.

“Lemme go, McCree,” she gasped through her laughter.

“Only if you let me get ya as many presents as I want for yer birthday!”

“Okay, okay, you win!” McCree relented and let Juniper catch her breath before putting the gift back in her lap. “Now open it! Suspense is killin’ me.”

She bit her lip in excitedly and tore the paper from the box, whipping out her pocket knife to slice open the tape.

“You didn’t!”

“I sure did.”

“You gonna teach me how to keep it on all the time like you do? Through training simulations and combat practice?”

“Of course, my sweetpea.”

“What is it,” Lena shrieked impatiently.

McCree beamed as Juniper lifted up a cowgirl hat of her very own, less tattered and worn than her father’s, but otherwise very similar. Shiny buckle in the middle and all. Her face was just as thrilled as he felt.

The room was filled with a collective ‘aww’ as the young woman put the wide-brimmed hat on her head. “Perfect fit,” she grinned at McCree.

“There’s somthin’ else, too,” he said with a nod to the present.

“I told you one,” she snapped playfully.

“An’ I didn’t listen! Shoot me,” he said shoving her shoulder. “Just open the damn gift.”

Juniper adjusted her hat before digging through the white tissue paper. She gasped and burst out in giggles. With one quick hop, she was on her feet and holding a dress over her body.

“Jesse McCree, where on Earth did you find a dress that looks like a serape? And not just any serape, but your tattered old red one,” Lena gaped.

“The internet is a magical place,” he chuckled in response, watching as Juni swayed with a giant grin on. “You like it then,” he asked.

“I love it, McCree, I absolutely love it!” She flopped back into her seat and threw her arms around him, sighing contentedly into him. For once there wasn’t a ball of tension knotted between her shoulders.

“And I love you, sweetpea,” he murmured, holding her as long as he could, but Juniper pulled away quickly.

“Now you open yours,” she chimed, grabbing a red and green bag.

McCree was grinning ear to ear – it had been years since he’d had a Christmas present like this, not a generic one bought out of coworker obligation. And it was glorious. A puffy red and yellow sweater unfolded as he opened his present. Within 30 seconds he was laughing so hard he was crying. There were all the traditional ugly sweater adornments on it: stout little trees and triangles pieced together in a row and a chunky line pattern, but there was a little extra McCree flare, too. Bright gold Peacekeepers, a row of bullets, and a big ol’ ‘BAMF’ right in the middle made this knitted monstrosity one of a kind.

“Ah, honey,” he said trying to catch his breath, “this is the single best piece of clothing I’ve ever seen! How did you – ”

“Specialty order,” she answered before he could ask. “One of a kind, just like you.”

“Aren’t you just the sweetest,” he gushed, taking off his serape and slipping on the sweater.

“Is it comfy,” she asked tentatively.

“Damn! Is this fleece lined,” the cowboy marveled, rubbing his arms. Juniper nodded. “This thing is magical!”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said biting her lip and looking delighted, “and I’m glad it’s cozy, because it might not 100% one of a kind, but close.” McCree frowned in confusion and Juniper smirked. “Look, I may have loved yours so much I got myself a matching one.”

The entire room laughed again as Jesse pulled his daughter into a glomp saying, “That is the only way you could make this sweater better, honeybun!”

For the rest of the day, Juni and McCree were sporting matching tops and wide smiles. Juniper wore her dress at least once a week for the next few months while her hat ended up being more of a special occasion sort of thing, but the Overwatch members all knew she often wore it when she needed a pick me up and always wore it when her father was away. “To keep him close, no matter what.”

Tags: @watch-your-grammer @winchester-sonsandcastiel @envy-kitty

#mine #overwatch #writing #overwatch drabble #my drabble #drabble #mccree #juniper #winston #tracer #lena #hanzo #mei #daughter series #christmas #christmas daughter series

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theeldestsun · 6 years

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FIVE SIMILARITIES BETWEEN MUSE &. MUN.

1. We both have the patience of saints tbh when it really matters. long term goals? yeah we’re both here for that shit, doesn’t matter how long it takes, we’re gonna keep working towards them, and we’re gonna make it fuCKING WORK. even though our goals are unrealistic -- DREAM BIG BABY? IRON THRONE? WORLD PEACE? FUCK YES. 2. We are both idealists and cynics. We think the best of people, and of the world -- we see the light and hope for the very best, we want to change shit for the better. We are also hyper aware of how bullshit this whole game called Life is, how economics/ politics/ culture/ religion/ etc. just fucks everyone over, and how hopeless it is to wish for peace. aND YET, we still try. 3. We are both too nice..... for our own good........ compassion is a characteristic i would describe to be core to both of us. We care too much. we would bend over backward if we cared enough about a person or a cause. We are also pacifists af. staying up to comfort a friend, charity, volunteering, speeches at protests, yep 4. Tidbit i guess, Doran has four younger siblings, and so do i. Except mors and olyvar died, and both my brothers are still around causing chaos. also we both love all our siblings to bits. 5. We are both intellectuals / academics af. Ravenclaw af. you get the gist. we love learning, we love writing about new ideas, teasing out new concepts, asking questions just to test the boundaries of the life we observe. reading, reading, reading. also doran is sapiosexual and .... so am i..... to the . m a . x . ...

FIVE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MUSE &. MUN.

1. I am not clinically depressed or suffering from anxiety or extreme paranoia ........ and doran is all of that. 2. Less so a difference, but I model him after my own father? so in that way, doran and i are not alike? ( but im ??? like my dad?? so ?? ) 3. I’m sadly not a prince of a country, nor cismale so 4. I love doran, but doran doesnt love doran / shrug emoji 5. I’m more talkative and affectionate than doran is. Doran is all “silence is a prince’s friend” all that. me, has a tiny problem: WHINES AND CRAWLS OVER TO FRIEND AND FAM FOR HUGS.

Tagged by: stolen because im procrastinating Tagging: anYONE WHO HASN’T DONE THIS YET??

#(( im pROCRASTINATING ))#(( THIS ESSAY NEEDS TO BE DONE BUT ITS NOT GETTING DONE ))#(( RI P ))#(( also lol differences was difficult ))#(( i am actually doran nymeros martell goodnight everyone ))#c: the mun #c: the prince

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polishgene · 4 years

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My Bad Coffee Travel Guide

There’s something incredibly reliable about good coffee shops. My own dependability on decent barista coffee is similar to that of a heroin addict relying on their drug dealer.

Yes, I say that, because not getting the right coffee can seriously ruin my day. And people who know what I mean, know what I mean.

So what’s so difficult about getting good coffee when you’re far from home?

For me personally, there are three relatively annoying barriers to live with:

One:

I’m not into black coffee and I don’t drink milk that came from a cow’s tit (how did we only just realise this isn’t natural?!)

Two:

I can tell good coffee beans from the bad a mile off.

This means I need access to a skilled barista who knows how to source good coffee beans and process them correctly as well as appreciates that silly milk alternatives such as soy, coconut or pea (nice try Sproud, but you’re not quite there) are simply not acceptable. They change the taste of coffee. Unsweetened oat (yes, I’m looking at you, Oatly Barista) is a good alternative - it doesn’t get in the way of coffee. Simple.

Three:

I want to sit down to drink my coffee.

That one may need a bit of explaining. What can I say, I just like to sit down and feel it sink in and stir that God-sent buzz into my blood. I don’t care to run along with a herd of angry commuters, not before I had my fix.

Yes, I’m that much hard work. And the sit down requirement stands in conflict to the previous two goals. The God Of Caffeinated People knows that if you manage to get a perfect oat latte, you’re most likely in a very busy cafe.

(decaffeinated growl)

Nevertheless, in 2019 all this fussiness can seem carefully marketed to.

I mean, all over the globe coffee culture is being taken to absolute extremes hitting an all time high with recent nitro cold brew and what not.

But let me tell ya. Having travelled a fair bit in the last two years whilst often working from cafes I feel I could write a book about bad coffee experiences.

The good ones? They’re good. You get your fix, lift your spirits and on with your day. It’s the bad ones you remember because for some reason they really f*** with you.

So here’s my completely biased and selected at random Bad Coffee Travel Guide. Here I go.

1. Surprisingly, there’s no bad coffee in Norway

This came much to my surprise but perhaps the best overall coffee experience I had was in Oslo and Bergen. Something about the seemingly cold, neat and annoyingly healthy Norwegians makes them perfect coffee addicts.

No matter how hard I tested the nordic coffee scene, I just could not get bad coffee in Bergen. And it’s not an insignificant detail that they have a way of pampering you with their waffles. It’s one thing to eat a delicious, warm norwegian waffle (whilst admiring the perfectly erect posture of your nordic barista). It’s quite another to be able to make one yourself, which I came across in a couple of cafes in Norway and wept with pleasure.

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience: 10/10

2. Obviously, there’s no bad coffee in Italy

We all hate Italy. It’s basically a country which has everything and one does struggle to think of a single reason why they shouldn’t just drop everything and move to Tuscany, or Puglia, or Veneto, or…

But if you are looking for reasons not to move to Italy (other than grown-up ones such as crime rates) quite possibly the hardest one will be coffee. They make espressos taste like mother’s milk and paint the gentle foam on top of each unmistakable cup with the finesse of Michaelangelo.

I tried catching the Italians off guard by ordering coffee in petrol stations, at busy airports or very near the northern borders. But no luck. Their coffee is so good, I prefer it in an espresso or alongato so I can savour it. And if I want my afternoon cappuccino, I don’t even mind a bit cow milk.

In Italy, I’m not even fussy anymore. They’re that good. It’s super annoying.

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience: 11/10

3. There’s almost no bad coffee in New York

To decrease your chances of getting a baddie in NYC, go Brooklyn. Brooklyn feels almost like the home of most of this world’s baristas so it’s no wonder I didn’t even have to ask. I just walked in and the person behind the coffee machine would just start making my coffee. They knew.

But even if you stay in Manhattan, you’re likely to be wowed: the Japanese themed, the minimalist, the artsy, the functional - whatever tickles your reusable mug.

The only annoying aspect of coffee drinking in New York is the price. No, it’s not actually $6,30 because you have to add a 20% tip. And no, it’s not an option, they make sure you feel like a d*** if you just give them a smiley face. And I hope you’re not hungry as that microscopic cinnamon bun might drive the final tag up to $12. And given that Norway, one of the most expensive countries in the world (especially when it comes to food) opened the list, this should hurt even more.

Get a day job, NYC.

Love you though!

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience: 9/10

4. There’s some bad coffee etiquette in London

I love London, me and her have a very special relationship. And there are some amazing cafes and coffee companies that make it really hard to get bad coffee. This applies especially to East London and Soho, but really you can dictate a pretty high standard throughout zones 1 and 2.

What I find difficult to live with sometimes is how tiny a lot of cafes are and how overcrowded they get. Somehow, if you go to a nice cafe anywhere else in the world you’ll be able to walk inside without shrugging your shoulders up against your body like a bobsledder.

Not in London though! The general expectation is: slide in, try not to breathe too closely to anyone, get your coffee and get out. Forget sitting down. And that takes a lot of joy out of coffee drinking.

But try Tap Coffee, Kaffeine, Italo or Story Coffee for an unmistakably sublime London finish and possibly even a seat.

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 8/10

5. There’s some adorable coffee in Portugal

I know that some people would talk about France, and I do love dunking a croissant in my coffee, I’ll give them that. But for me Portugal does it better. Something about the size and choice of vessels (love having a small latte in a simple, thin glass!) as well as the pastry selection makes it extremely difficult to complain about.

The price of coffee in Portugal is an additional bonus. It’s as if someone had recognised espresso machine coffee as a very basic, if life-enhancing, commodity that should not be restricted to busy bodies and hipsters. In Portugal, the time you spend sipping on your tiny yet satisfying cafe au leche is unlimited.

The only “but”, which probably doesn’t even apply to that many people, is that the Portuguese don’t really care about pleasing the more refined taste buds. Unless you seek out an artisan cafe, you basically get what you get. It’s good coffee but on the whole it won’t knock your socks off like the Italian juice.

Oh, and forget about vegan milk in a real Portugese caf. They don’t give a sh** about that nonsense.

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 7/10

6. LA doesn’t care that much about coffee

There’s a lot to be said about why living in LA doesn’t require that much coffee. First of all, there’s so much sun and jogging and freshly squeezed juices and kombucha on tap that a primitive caffeine fix is just not that essential. The it girl that trots around East Village with a paper coffee cup will swap it for a beetroot-celery-apple-ginger juice whilst she’s longboarding in Venice Beach.

And sure enough, I didn’t pay that much attention to coffee in LA. There was just so much else to do. Yet still, I don’t remember getting any noticeably bad coffee in LA.... well maybe apart from the one in Universal Studios canteen. But that only proves the point - if you’re shooting an exciting new series surrounded by industry top dogs (which - let me make it clear - I was not doing, I was taken around on a friendly tour), you don’t need perfect coffee.

You’re on a pretty sweet natural high!

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 6/10

7. I don’t care about coffee in Cape Town

Coffee culture has a way of mirroring gentrification. If you’re in an ungentrified area in a city and come across an outlet with a bit of scandinavian interior design, thick wooden tables or recycled furniture as well as a shiny new cadillac-of-an-espresso-machine, you feel safer. It’s strange to find that in a place such as Cape Town, as remote and “ethnically complicated” as they come and yet delivering the perfect vegan froth at the snap of your fingers.

So yes, although they are scarce and make you feel a bit like you’re trying to stay in your european bubble, you can find nice and often worky cafes in Cape Town. But why the hell would you want to go there, when you’re also surrounded by so much beauty and adventure.

Take a coffee detox in Cape Town and hike up and down Table Mountain instead. Or drive up and down the coast and watch one of the most spectacular sunsets on earth!

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 5/10

8. There’s some amazing coffee in Warsaw

Warsaw, my beloved hometown, has a difficult relationship with coffee. On the one hand, like everything in Poland it’s saturated with mainstream brands and coffee corporations. The first Polish cafe chain Coffee Heaven was bought out by Costa Coffee (insert puke emoji) and the more sophisticated Green Coffee was turned into Nero. This of course killed of most of the character that these independent Polish brands managed to create in their heart-warming outlets.

On the other hand, since approx 2015, smaller and more locally targeted cafes have been popping up all over the place. And most of them keep a fantastic standard of beans and make all sorts of coffee making techniques available to the general public. So I implore you to skip on Nero and try the likes of Cophi, Coffee Desk or Relaks.

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 4/10

9. There is way too much bad coffee in Oxford

For a town hosting so much poignant brain power, Oxford has still a lot to learn when it comes to serving good coffee. It’s no secret that most English people are more into pubs than cafes and fair enough. But I seriously doubt that all those international scholars, prima sort professors and MBA high flyers run on builder’s tea alone.

Oxford simply has much more potential for great coffee experience - a well run cofee joint will immediately find customers. That’s why it’s disappointing that there are only a couple of decent joints scattered around it’s Harry Potteresque streets.

But you can prove me wrong - please send me your Oxford coffee list!

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 3/10

10. There’s plenty of really bad coffee in Switzerland

I love Switzerland. The efficiency, the timely trains, the impeccable landshafts. Your mind can truly be at rest as the Swiss are taking care of everything. And yet, I dare say it does not apply to coffee.

Sure, you can find perfectly crafted cafes in Zurich, it is after all an extremely affluent Eauropean capital. But venture out anywhere and coffee turns into something resembling something a friend of mine compares to “milled mammoth bones brew”.

Why oh why, Switzerland?!

Fussy decaffeinated customer experience level: 2/10 Now, there’s really no need to venture out anywhere that goes below 2/10, unless of course you’re having the adventure of a lifetime and coffee is beside the point. But if, like me, you need the taste of a perfectly crafted coffee to feel grounded and complete at your destination, there’s no need to go there.

#coffee #travel #travelguide #cafes

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

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thin walls (are calling me home) - chapter 18

Camila woke up with her neck aching, but that was pretty much routine by now. Usually she would get up, stay with Lauren for a while and head for the cafeteria. But today wasn’t an usual day, and the routine was broken when she was greeted by a soft voice, reaching her ears from across the room as she groaned and massaged her neck.

The gentle, “Good morning,” Lauren let out made Camila’s heart flutter in both startlement and affection, and she rid her face of her pain inflicted frown to smile at her girlfriend.

“Morning.” Camila rasped, raising her legs off the chair’s arm and turning her body into a regular sitting position.

Having slept there so many nights, Camila had found the most comfortable position to be using the chair’s armrests as support for her back and legs, while the side of her head rested where her back was supposed to be. And still, the position wasn’t all that comfortable, so neck pains? Check.

(One night at home hadn’t been able to undo all the damage, and Shawn would still have to hear her complaining for some time.)

“How are you feeling?” Camila asked quietly as she stood up, an almost shyness in her actions. As if this was too good to be true, and she could ruin it if she wasn’t careful.

Of course, she had talked to Lauren and even kissed her the previous day, but even then it had felt surreal. Her girlfriend’s high state hadn’t helped, but now she seemed to be more sober and aware, and everything felt more serious. The moment, the atmosphere, the room. The air carried a heaviness that hadn’t been there in the lightness she had felt upon Lauren’s awakening.

And even so, Camila couldn’t be happier to see her beautiful face, smiling softly and lovingly up at her as she moved closer to her bed.

“I’m okay. Nurse Gutman came b- by when I woke up and I already ate and took my meds.” Lauren said nonchalantly, turning her gaze a little to the right as she started curling a strand of Camila’s hair around her finger, letting it slide between her thumb and index finger until she got to its tip. Camila watched as Lauren touched her hair with care and gentleness, and she dared think that the look in her eyes as she focused on her brown locks was one of reverence. Camila held her breath as Lauren turned back to her, green meeting brown and touching something inside of her that left a lump in her throat. “I m- missed you.”

Camila let out the air in a breathy, almost teary chuckle, getting closer, in a way that her body was almost touching Lauren’s seated one. She reached her hand out hesitantly, as afraid to hurt Lauren as she had been when her girlfriend had first gotten there and Camila had had no idea if she could even touch her.

And maybe Lauren sensed her fear, since she raised her own hand to take hold of Camila’s, bringing it to her lips and kissing her palm softly as her hand slid to her wrist. Camila smiled, moving her own to cup Lauren’s cheek and caressing it with her thumb, feeling more secure now.

“I missed you too, princess.” Camila said, her voice cracking on the last bit. She almost groaned at herself for being so emotional, especially since everything was okay now. “God, I’m so emo today.” She let out a breathy chuckle.

Lauren laughed quietly herself, smiling lovingly at Camila. “If I slept on that c- chair I’d be emo too.”

Camila felt herself relaxing as a giggle left her lips. She stepped even closer. “I’m used to it by now, don’t worry.”

Lauren furrowed her brows. “What- what do you mean?”

Camila just shrugged before leaning against Lauren’s bed. The green eyed girl was still frowning, but she took a second to move closer to the railing. Camila’s hand fell from her cheek in the process.

“Did you sleep here t- this whole time?” Lauren finally asked and Camila felt a flutter in her heart at the worry in Lauren’s voice.

“Well, I didn’t on Friday?” Camila answered, feeling somewhat nervous for some reason. “I don’t know, I couldn’t sleep at home without you.”

Lauren had a look in her eyes that Camila couldn’t quite decipher, but then her hand found the younger girl’s on the bed. Camila glanced down for a moment, finding only love in the emeralds Lauren had for eyes when she met them again. But then they were gone behind closed lids as Lauren leaned in, and Camila couldn’t help the smile in her lips as she mirrored her.

The kiss was slow and gentle, just the right amount of loving. But Camila was still hesitant, and when Lauren tried to deepen it, she pulled back. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Lauren pouting with her own still closed.

(Her heart swelled inside her chest from how adorable she looked, and if a sight could cure all her pains, it had to be that.)

Camila moved on to gently stroke Lauren’s cheek with the back of her fingers and her girlfriend’s eyes shot open. She let her hand fall to the tips of her girlfriend’s dark hair, getting lost in it. Lauren’s eyes never left her face, and Camila realized this was kind of what had happened earlier, with their roles reversed.

“I love you.” Lauren declared all of the sudden, making Camila turn to her again.

“I love you too.” Camila was quick to reply, her smile widening. “And you’re lucky you’re out of duty for a while, because it’s gonna take some time until I’m comfortable with the idea of you risking your life for a living again.” She half joked, squeezing Lauren’s hand.

Lauren just pouted again after scoffing slightly. “This is b- bullshit.” She mumbled.

Camila gave her a stern but caring look. “You just got out of a coma after being shot in the head. Can you seriously tell me you think you’re fit to go back to the field?”

Lauren lowered her gaze in thought for a moment, lifting her chin a second later. “Well, the MRI d- didn’t show permanent damage.”

Camila was about to nod, but decided to mess a little with Lauren as the memory of the previous day flew back to her mind.

“Are you sure?” Camila asked, making Lauren scrunch up her eyebrows. “You were pretty high, y’know.”

Lauren relaxed then, laughing before shaking her head, her cheeks tinting in red. “Shut up.”

“Do you even remember anything about yesterday? You were pretty out of it.” Camila laughed.

“Yeah…” Lauren trailed off, smiling. “It’s foggy, b- but it’s there. I remember talking about the Pope and- and wizards and Dinah being an ass and making videos nonstop.”

Camila threw her head back in laughter, making Lauren retract her hand harshly from her hold, pretending to be upset. Camila couldn’t help but laugh a little more at her attempt of faking irritation, reaching for her hand again.

“Hey, hey.” A chuckle. “Don’t be like that, come on. You were the cutest thing, it was so funny and adorable.” Camila grinned, finally managing to intertwine her fingers with her girlfriend’s.

Lauren finally relented, smiling as well, but her blush remained strong. “Well, I’m glad to have entertained.”

“And Dinah wasn’t an ass, she took a great picture of us.” Camila defended, turning around to take her phone from her purse on the chair beside her own. She raised her eyebrows when she saw how many notifications from Instagram she had. “Damn, it got popular.”

“What did?” Lauren asked as Camila unlocked her phone. She grabbed the chair by its arm and dragged it to the side of Lauren’s bed.

(Camila smiled internally; if there was one thing that had become part of her routine, it was that.)

She sat down on the chair, showing Lauren the picture. In it, the green eyed girl was sitting in a similar manner from how she was now, but with a huge smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes as she looked at Camila. The young actress was standing close to her, holding her wrists, and had the same look of adoration in her eyes, though the angle didn’t show her entire face.

Lauren smiled fondly at the screen, looking back up to meet Camila’s eyes after a moment. “I remember this.” She said. “Right before we- before one of our kisses.”

“Yeah…” Camila trailed off, remembering the moment, but also thinking about how many likes she had had on the picture.

It was almost three times more than her usual amount, which was surely strange, but easily explainable: Lauren’s followers had begun noticing her, and with that, her own number of followers increased. The thing is, Camila had already posted some pictures with Lauren, tagging her on them, and her popularity had been increasing slowly since they had started dating. But now there had been a sudden jump, and Camila didn’t know if it was due to her play, to the fundraiser they’d attended, to her interviews, to Lauren’s health or a combination of all…

“You okay?”

Camila blinked, suddenly brought back to the present by Lauren. She turned to her and smiled, taking her phone back and locking its screen before leaving it on Lauren’s bedside table.

“Yeah, I was just thinking. Don’t worry about it.” Camila reassured her, giving Lauren a quick peck for good measure and trying to rid her head of those thoughts. Now was not the time.

Lauren seemed content with the reply she’d gotten, smirking slightly at Camila. “I can’t believe you put ‘she lives’ with a gazillion shouting emojis as the caption though.”

Camila giggled. “Dinah said you looked like Frankenstein with your head bandages and I couldn’t help myself.” She smiled innocently.

Lauren wasn’t having it if the look in her eyes was any indication, but she only had the chance to huff and cross her arms before Camila slightly stood up, leaned in again and started kissing all over her face. Lauren had done that to her on the night of the… well, of the break in (Camila’s smile faltered for a moment) and it had managed to cheer her up, so she was hoping it would do the same for her girlfriend today.

Soon enough Lauren was a giggling mess, Camila’s stomach was filled with butterflies and all thoughts of the break in had vanished from her mind.

“Stooop!” Lauren whined amid her giggles, making Camila pull back and sit down. Lauren finally opened her eyes then, smiling widely at her girlfriend. “That was still m- mean, though. I’m mad at you and Dinah.”

“Uh huh.” Camila hummed, with a skeptical smirk. “Then why are you smiling?”

“It was a natural reaction t- to the kissing.” Lauren replied matter-of-factly, wiping the smile off her face. “Badasses don’t smile.”

Camila chuckled and rolled her eyes fondly. “Well then, miss badass. Think about it this way: now you’ll have a cool undercut to add up to your fake badass image.” Lauren bit her lip, trying to prevent her smile from growing, but it didn’t work, and soon she was grinning at Camila. The smaller Latina smiled as well. “Now we only have tattoos and piercings to go.”

Lauren’s smile faltered, but not in a sad kind of way. She seemed to get lost in thought for a moment, but before Camila could ask if there was something on her mind, their eyes met again.

“I think… I think I wanna get a tattoo. Of a dragonfly.” Lauren stated, completely surprising Camila.

“Why a dragonfly?” Camila asked after a few seconds. “And where?”

“I don’t know. Like, either of t- those.” Lauren shrugged. “Maybe it was something I dreamed, but it feels important. I’ll look it up.”

“Okay.” Camila said, simply, resting her hand on Lauren’s leg.

“Yeah?” Lauren asked, seeming insecure for the first time. “What if it doesn’t look good? Because like, I’m k- kinda worried about what this, um, undercut is gonna look like but hair grows back. A tattoo is permanent.”

Camila squeezed her knee softly, knowing that her image was somewhat a touchy subject with Lauren.

“Your undercut will look awesome, Lo, don’t worry. And if you don’t like it, just throw your hair on it until it grows back to normal. And we’re gonna find a bomb ass artist for your tattoo. It’s gonna look awesome.” Camila finished, watching as Lauren’s smile widened.

“Thank you, Camz.” Lauren said, her voice thicker than usual. “For supporting me, for- for being here, hell, you slept here for a week, I… Just thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, baby.” Camila replied, feeling herself get choked up as well. “I’ll always be here, Lo. Always.”

They stayed in silence for a while after that, just looking at each other as they held hands, Camila’s free one playing with Lauren’s hair. The world seemed to have stopped spinning from how peaceful it was in the small ICU room, and this time Camila welcomed the quiet.

And then her stomach grumbled and they laughed before Camila excused herself to go grab something to eat. By the time she came back, Lauren’s whole family was there. Unfortunately that meant that even Marcus was there, and Camila thought it was best to just give them their privacy in the cramped room after she greeted all of them.

(Camila searched Lauren’s eyes before leaving the room, but the girl only nodded with a smile and that neutral air she had around her uncle, so the young actress trusted her judgement and left.)

–//–

“So what exactly did I miss while I was out?”

When all of her friends started talking over themselves, Lauren raised her eyebrows. Some busy week that was, huh? And still, Lauren couldn’t understand shit. An intervention was needed.

“Guys, you sound like a flock of birds, calm down.” She said, raising her hand.

The four other people in the room stopped at once after that, looking at themselves and laughing a little.

“Sorry, Lauser.” Said a smirking Dinah.

Lauren rolled her eyes at the nickname just to mess with the girl, but in reality it didn’t even bother her anymore. She mumbled a, “Yeah, fine,” as the Polynesian snickered, and pointed at Normani with the hand that wasn’t holding Camila’s.

After finally being moved to a normal hospital room that Monday morning, Camila had said a group meeting was long overdue, since the new room was larger and more appropriate for such a thing. So after Normani had been freed from work, she and Ally had fetched Dinah in their car and the trio had met Camila in Lauren’s hospital room.

And there they were, the three of them spread around her bed while Camila shared it with her. It didn’t have railings like her ICU one and it was big enough for the both of them to sit together, so while Camila was still too hesitant to cuddle like Lauren had wanted her to, their intertwined hands were resting on her lap, and that was enough to make her happy.

“Everyone at the precinct is worried about you. I actually brought some cards and letters people there wrote you.” Normani said, walking over to her purse and taking them. She walked back to Lauren’s bed with a smile on her face. “Here.”

Lauren had a soft smile of her own on her face as she took the pieces of paper, being reassured that despite all the teasing and all the nicknames, she was liked there. It was a nice feeling, and she found herself getting emotional as she thought about her colleagues writing all of those cards.

“That’s so nice of them.” She said, touched by the gesture.

Camila seemed to have felt her emotional state, or maybe her voice cracked a little, but either way, she got a squeeze on the hand and a kiss on the cheek by her girlfriend. Lauren smiled at the smaller Latina, who smiled back, but then she turned back to Normani.

“I’m gonna read all of them later.” She promised, swallowing the small lump on her throat.

The dark skinned girl nodded and sat on the end of the bed by Lauren’s and Camila’s feet. “Captain Russell was here last week too, he’ll probably be back one of these days to talk to you and your doctor.”

Lauren was the one to nod this time. “Okay. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Normani’s face lit up after a moment of thinking. “Oh! They paired me up with that new guy, Dan, while you’re away. And now I get to keep the keys to the car.” She finished with a smug grin.

“He must really suck at driving.” Lauren joked, making Dinah chuckle and Normani scowl and roll her eyes.

“Don’t be mean to Mani, Lauren.” Ally scolded, walking over to her fianceé, who wrapped her arms around the small girl’s waist and rested her head on her chest.

Lauren opened her mouth to reply, but the glare she got from Ally told her not to argue.

(The smug look she got from Normani made her want to put her in a coma to teach her not to get on Lauren’s bad side. It took more than an epidural hematoma take away her skills, after all.)

“Anyway…” Lauren mumbled as Normani bit her lip to prevent her laughter. She couldn’t help being flustered, but she tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she sighed and turned to Ally trying to smile. “What about you, Ally? What news do you bring me?”

Ally tilted her head, absentmindedly playing with Normani’s hair. “I think I’m gonna hire a manager for the coffee shop.”

Lauren raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking to her side to find an equally confused Camila. But she didn’t have time to say anything before Dinah beat her to it.

“Just for the record, I’m unemployed.”

“What?” Lauren exclaimed in shock. “You were fired from the dance studio?”

Camila snorted by her side. “No she wasn’t, ignore her.”

Dinah gasped. “Chancho that’s rude!”

“Shut up, Dinah.” Camila laughed, getting an supposedly offended huff in reply. Lauren couldn’t help but smile at their antics, especially when her girlfriend had the most beautiful smile.

“As I was saying…” Ally continued, amused as well. “Mani and I fly to Paris in like a month so we need someone to take over the shop. Plus… I’ve been wanting to have someone there so that I can look into singing, y’know?” She finished in a quieter but still confident voice.

Lauren broke into a wide grin, pride exploding within her at her friend’s words. “That’s amazing, Al! I’m one hundred percent sure you’ll make it.” Lauren exclaimed, so excited that she even tried to lean forward to get out of bed, only to be stopped by Camila’s hand on her shoulder. Lauren turned to her, a small and unintentional pout on her lips.

“You know you can only get up with nurses around, baby.” Camila scolded lightly, making Lauren sigh. She knew, of course, but she was an active person and a trained cop, so she tended to act on her instincts sometimes.

“Sorry.” Lauren mumbled, getting a smile and a chaste kiss in reply, which made her break into a grin again before she turned to Ally. “That’s amazing, seriously.”

The smaller girl separated herself from Normani to get closer to Lauren and carefully hug her. The green eyed girl had to bite her tongue so as to not complain of everyone being afraid to touch her, but now wasn’t the time.

“Thank you, Lo.” Ally said once they pulled back.

“Yeah Smallz, you’ll rock ‘em with your voice!” Dinah exclaimed, making Ally giggle.

“I’m rooting for you, Ally.” Camila piped in cheerily.

“Thanks, guys!” Ally exclaimed, even more excited than before.

Lauren smiled and took Camila’s hand in hers again out of habit, without looking away from Ally.

“Any other news?” She asked.

Ally thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, my parents and my brother sent their love. They kept asking me about you, but then they saw your mom’s video and got so relieved.”

Lauren furrowed her brow. “What video?”

“Your mom made a video on Facebook for our friends and family explaining the situation and giving them an update, saying that you woke up.” Camila explained. “But everyone started sharing it because, well, you’ve been getting some attention, babe.”

“Oh…” Lauren trailed off, unsure of what to think of this. She didn’t exactly want more attention, and she could already feel herself growing anxious at the thought of paparazzi and articles. And by that, she meant that her heart was already beating faster,even though she didn’t really know why. She was safe, wasn’t she? Hadn’t Lauren gotten a grip on her struggles with being somewhat known? Then why did she feel so nervous all of the sudden? Gulping, Lauren tried to relax and calm herself down. “How… Uh… How much… coverage did I get exactly?”

“Well, at first it was just your hardcore followers that thought something was wrong, but then your uncle was caught on camera leaving the hospital and he said that he was visiting you. Then there was my interview-”

Lauren’s head was spinning already. “Just a sec, pause.” She interrupted. “Two things: he was caught on camera?”

“Yeah, but Mila thinks he called the reporters and paps because there’s always more when he’s around.” Normani said. “And he gave another statement yesterday, but it was quick, saying you were improving and had already started waking up.”

Camila nodded. “And it was after your mom’s video, so everyone already knew that. But you’re on some websites and Hiro told me about like two magazines over the phone earlier today. The thing is that after Marcus’s video, I was asked about this on the interview more directly than-”

“Wait, okay.” Lauren interrupted again and, upon noticing Camila’s small frown, gave her a peck. “Sorry to interrupt again, but that was the second thing. How did it go? The interview, I mean.”

A smile found its way onto Camila’s lips again. “It was good. Like, I’m pretty sure I don’t remember sixty percent of it because I was so worried about you, I couldn’t focus. And then began the questions about us and suddenly he was talking about you and showing me your uncle’s video,” Camila rolled her eyes, “and things got personal and emotional but all in all it was a good interview. The reception was better, too. I cleared my name from the fake activist thing, came out on my own accord and got a few hundreds of followers on social media. So it was definitely worth it.” Camila joked, chuckling.

Lauren smiled at her before bringing Camila’s hand to her lips and giving it a kiss. “I’m glad everything is sorted out.” The room was silent for a moment as their locked eyes alone spoke more than words ever could.

“Disgusting.” Dinah shook her head, completely ending the moment. “Plus, I should be the one with all the followers, since I took the damn picture.”

“Oh my God, Dinah, shut up.” Normani exclaimed, faking a glare at the tall girl.

“I don’t know why I call you cave people my friends. So much rudeness.” Dinah sighed, walking toward one of the armchairs and throwing herself in it.

“Plus,” Camila continued, ignoring Dinah with a smirk and bringing Lauren’s attention back to her, “the play’s contract was renewed! We’re gonna get another season, like four more performances, in another theater.”

Lauren beamed at her girlfriend, changing her position on the bed so that she could face her better.

“Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Lauren exclaimed.

“Yeah, congratulations, Mila.” Ally piped in.

“You go, girl.” Normani said, raising her hand.

Camila giggled happily, giving Normani the high five she wanted, but soon turned back to Lauren. Their eyes met once again and in Camila’s Lauren saw pure happiness. It made her own heart constrict, her stomach bubbling in glee, and she couldn’t help but take Camila’s face in her hands and kiss her passionately.

(Or as passionately as Camila allowed her too, since the girl was constantly trying to slow Lauren down now.)

When they parted, Lauren kept her eyes closed, running her thumb gently through Camila’s cheek. She got goosebumps from the way Camila was running her fingers through her arm, her other hand resting on Lauren’s now bent leg, which was thrown over her girlfriend’s thighs.

Lauren was in a hospital bed, wearing hospital clothes and eating nothing but hospital food, with her head all bandaged and an unintentional undercut. Her situation wasn’t the greatest, with the constant but thankfully weak headache that unfortunately grew stronger every time her medicine started wearing off.

So yeah, Lauren wasn’t in the best of places, that was for sure. But if time froze and she was made to live in that moment forever, she wouldn’t complain either. All those negatives were nulled when she had the girl who she had the luck to call hers, the love of her life, in her arms.

Maybe Lauren was too thankful, or too contemplative. Maybe almost dying did that to you. Lauren was grateful to be alive and to have her friends and Camila with her, whatever the reason for all the thinking.

The only thing Lauren knew for sure is that she never wanted to let go.

–//–

Lauren didn’t let go.

The five girls kept talking for a while, telling Lauren all the things that had happened during her coma, from Dinah’s tale of a date went wrong - once she decided to break her vote of silence - to the more emotional talk of how they had gone to the hospital everyday to be with her.

But even though the topics of conversation sometimes got a little heavier, Lauren had been content and at peace. She stayed that way until her friends went away and ended up falling asleep with Camila still in her bed, only to have her half asleep girlfriend be asked to leave by one of the nurses.

(Camila had begrudgingly been conducted to what she now called her “new sleeping chair”, groaning all the way to it before falling back to sleep the moment her butt touched the seat.)

Lauren would have probably stayed content the next day, had she not been woken up by a worried looking Camila. She didn’t even have the time to ask her what was wrong, because not two seconds after Lauren opened her eyes Camila was already talking.

“Your captain and the detective that came to our apartment are outside in the waiting room.”

Her girlfriend was speaking too quickly, or maybe Lauren was still too sleepy, or her pain meds were making her mind foggy. Perhaps it was a combination of all of those, but regardless of the reason, Lauren took a few extra moments to understand the sentence.

“What time is it?” Lauren asked around a yawn.

“Around nine. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you up or let you sleep, but the choice was taken from my hands.” Camila answered with a smile, tucking some loose strands of Lauren’s hair behind her ear before running her fingers through the sleepy girl’s hair the best way she could with all the bandages around her head. Lauren closed her eyes and smiled for a moment, since her girlfriend’s touch was still blissful, but Camila stopped her ministrations way too soon. Lauren opened her eyes again, ready to protest, but she was cut off by a sweet, quick kiss. “I’ve got a meeting with Hiro and then rehearsal in the new theater so I gotta go, but I’ll see you later today, okay baby?”

Lauren blinked before nodding. “Okay. I love you.”

Camila beamed and bent down again for another kiss, more passionate this time. Lauren sat up as they kissed, cupping Camila’s face with one hand. She ran her thumb through her girlfriend’s cheek once before moving her hand a little further and grabbing the hair at the nape of her neck. The little sigh Camila let out gave Lauren the opportunity she’d been waiting for and she deepened the kiss, pleased with the fact that Camila wasn’t pulling back like her tongue was a dangerous weapon this time.

(Camila’s mouth was like wine, and Lauren was desperate to get drunk.)

Lauren’s breath hitched in her throat when Camila sunk her teeth on her bottom lip and pulled on it, taking her completely by surprise, and her heart started beating faster when she felt her girlfriend squeezing her thigh underneath the sheets. But with the raise in her heartbeat, came another kind of pulse, one that Lauren didn’t expect and definitely not the kind she wanted to feel.

She didn’t want Camila to stop, absolutely not. Lauren had been wanting for Camila to touch her like that - as ridiculous as it sounded, since she wasn’t even doing anything but kissing her - since she woke up but now that she was Lauren couldn’t help but kind of need her to stop if she wanted her building headache to go away.

So she slowed it down and pulled away, slowly opening her eyes to find Camila frowning worriedly at her.

“I’m sorry, was that too much? Are you okay?” Camila asked slightly out of breath, but Lauren played it down, hiding her discomfort by smiling and pecking Camila’s lips.

“No, babe, don’t worry. I was just- um, I don’t wanna keep them waiting and you gotta go too.” Lauren said, hoping she was convincing enough.

“Are you sure?” Camila stroked Lauren’s face gently as she spoke.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lauren ran her hand down from where it had been on Camila’s neck to her shoulder and arm, stopping on her hand. She gave it a squeeze to reassure the young actress even though her head was still aching, but it worked, since Camila finally nodded and broke out into a tiny smile.

“I love you too.” Camila said, her voice low and soft. She gave Lauren a final chaste kiss before also squeezing her hand and stepping back.

(Lauren realized then that if Camila’s mouth was wine, it was also poison, for as sweet and addictive as the drink may be, it could make her sick if she drank too much.)

Lauren’s head still ached as she watched Camila move around the room collecting her things. If that was what Dr. Lawrence had meant by no strenuous activities, then Lauren was screwed. And angry, that was for sure. At who exactly she wasn’t sure, but fuck, she couldn’t even go beyond sixth grade kisses without a headache?

“See you later, baby.” Camila brought her back to the present from the door, smiling at her.

Lauren smiled back. “Bye, love. Oh, and call a nurse please, I need to lift this bed thingy and I still don’t know how it works. Plus I really need to use the bathroom and like, they insist on me having supervision all the time for now.”

Camila gave her a serious look. “They better! What if you fell or something?”

“Camz, come on.” Lauren replied, half amused and half worried at how serious she sounded.

Camila sighed and nodded, smiling a little after a moment. “Okay, okay. I’m just worried, sorry.”

Lauren cracked another small smile. “It’s fine.”

Camila stood there for almost a minute and Lauren was about to ask her if something was wrong when she ran back to her bed to give her one last kiss. Lauren couldn’t help but smile into it and laugh when Camila pulled back and almost ran back to the door.

“Okay, seriously, bye.” She said, also sounding amused and somewhat out of breath.

“Bye.” Lauren chuckled, watching as Camila grinned at her before walking out of the room.

A few moments later, a nurse came into the room, helping Lauren with her bed and watching her while she went to the bathroom. It was kind of ridiculous, if you asked her, since she could walk just fine, but Lauren went along with it because, well, it wasn’t particularly annoying or invasive.

After a moment of thinking, Lauren came to the conclusion that Camila was right, it was better to just call her nurse than to risk falling and having no one around.

Lauren would never admit it out loud, but she was relieved to have people watching over her today, since it was the first time the Latina had a headache like that and she didn’t know if there were other symptoms she would experience.

But when she asked the nurse, she only said that headaches were completely normal, especially if Lauren made physical efforts, and that was why exercises were out of the picture for now. The confirmation that it would take some time until Lauren was able to properly kiss Camila made her upset again, and more irritated at the situation than she had been before.

Lauren had been content. She had been at peace with her situation, even ready to freeze time last night. She laughed at the thought now, as the gratefulness for being alive and well were outweighed by the prospect of months of rest. And it wasn’t just rest from work, no. Rest from everything, even Camila. It sucked and-

“I take it you’re all good now, Miss Jauregui?” Nurse Gutman asked, stopping her train of thought.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” Lauren replied, once again seated in bed, but now resting against the raised head of the bed.

The nurse nodded. “You need to take your pills in half an hour, don’t forget, okay? They’ll help with the headache too.” Lauren nodded in response. “Can I let the men from the police in now?”

Lauren blinked. She had forgotten they were there. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Nurse Gutman smiled and left. Lauren looked at the pills she’d left on her bedside table and sighed deeply. She couldn’t think like that. She should be grateful for being alive; she was grateful for being alive. But maybe it was only now really sinking in how difficult recovery would be, and Lauren couldn’t help being upset by that.

But she still shouldn’t focus on it and look at the bright side of things. She should think about the good to forget about the bad, right? With that in mind, the young cop tried to stay positive and had a pleasant smile on her face when Lauren’s captain and Detective Norman came into the room.

“Good morning, Jauregui. How’re you feeling?” Captain Russell asked in a soft tone that surprised Lauren a little bit.

“I’m okay, sir, thank you for asking.” Lauren replied,even though her headache still bothered her, exchanging a polite nod with Detective Norman afterward. He sat down while her captain stood by the foot of her bed.

Captain Russell smiled. “I already talked with your doctor while we couldn’t come in. No brain damage, huh? You’re a lucky one.”

Lauren chuckled humorlessly, her mind filling with her previous thoughts. “Yeah…”

Maybe he sensed her uneasiness, or maybe he was just being straight to the point, he only cleared his throat before continuing.

“You’re on leave for at least a month, or how long it takes for Dr. Lawrence to clear you. You’re supposed to rest a lot.”

Lauren sighed, her mood dampening a little bit more. “I know, sir.”

Captain Russell nodded. “After that, you will be welcomed back to work on the phone and on paperwork until your recovery is through. Then, and only then, you’ll be assigned a partner and go back to the field.”

Lauren’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “I won’t be Normani’s- well, Officer Hamilton’s partner anymore?”

Captain Russell sighed. “It depends. We’ll see.” He said, simply.

Lauren felt a tug in her heart and the ache in her head get a little stronger at the news. Sure, she had met Normani in college and even helped put her and Ally together, but she hadn’t become as close as they were now until they were assigned as partners. The dark skinned girl had quickly become her best friend alongside Ally and Keana, especially after she began losing touch with the latter, and she couldn’t imagine not being her partner.

Frowning, Lauren wondered how Normani was dealing with their separation. Maybe Lauren was being overdramatic? She didn’t seem upset about having a new partner, even joking about it. But then again, Lauren hadn’t been sad either, having thought it was only temporary…

Lauren took a deep breath to clear her mind. It was useless to think about that, she would only get as sad as she was earlier. She tried to push those thoughts and feelings away, to bury them in the corners of her mind. But it was difficult, with the way her mind seemed to set traps for her, making her overthink almost everything.

And despite the turmoil inside Lauren, not much time had passed when she finally nodded and replied with a simple but polite, “Okay, sir.”

“I’ll leave you with Norman now, he’s got some things to tell you.” Lauren’s captain gave her a small smile. “Everything will be okay, Jauregui, you’ll see. You’re doing great already.”

That managed to bring a smile back to her face, however shy it was. “I haven’t done anything.”

He was already at the door when he turned his head to her. “You helped stop a probable mass shooting, getting shot yourself and living to tell the tale. Give yourself some credit, Jauregui.”

With that, he turned back around and stepped out of the room, leaving a speechless Lauren behind. Normani had told her about their shooter, how she’d shot him and how he’d had surgery and survived as well, the difference being that the man was going to prison, whereas Lauren obviously wasn’t.

But Lauren hadn’t thought much about it through that angle. In her mind, she had only messed up by being too innocent, too trusting, too gullible. It had gotten her shot and it could have gotten Normani, too, had she not been the smart, agile one. Lauren had tried to push away thoughts of her failure since she had woken up - and gotten off the influence of the stronger drugs -, thinking instead about how lucky she’d been to survive, how happy she was to be alive.

Because that was it. Luck. An inch to the side, or another caliber… Dr. Lawrence had told her after her MRI how incredibly lucky she had been. And even survival came with lots of downsides, like she was finding out now.

Lauren realized now that Captain Russell wasn’t wrong, though. She hadn’t voiced her feelings to anyone, not even Camila or her parents, so no one suspected the feeling of worthlessness that tried to take over Lauren’s brain all the time.

Truthfully, Lauren hadn’t felt that way since the shooting at the bank, and it had been a disaster. This time, the feeling wasn’t as strong, since no damage had been done but to herself, but in the quiet hours alone at the hospital - and they were inevitable, given that no one could stay there all day - Lauren tended to compare the situations. Both times, inadequate. Both times, not fast enough, not good enough.

There were times when Lauren would be able to truly forget those feelings, keep her mind off those thoughts. But on those quiet hours, Lauren would shake her head and run a hand through her hair, nervous, unable to forget. She had gotten over the shooting at the bank, she had accepted it and the changes it brought, she had opened up and moved on. But the mind is a dangerous thing, and Lauren could feel that all of her dangerous little thoughts coming back and mingling with her new insecurities.

And still, what Captain Russell said struck something inside her. Maybe she hadn’t been good enough, but she had been there. Maybe without her Normani wouldn’t have been able to save the day…

And maybe a better partner wouldn’t have been shot.

“So, Jauregui.” Detective Norman interrupted her thoughts before they could fly further away, into realms Lauren was sure she didn’t want to reach. “About your apartment.”

That certainly got the girl’s attention. “Did you find anything?”

“We haven’t found the culprit yet, but we think we know who we’re dealing with.” Norman stood up from his armchair, walking closer to the bed. “Like I said, it’s most likely a member of this gang we have here, you’re surely familiar with it, since you helped put a few of them in jail.”

“The Threats?” Lauren tilted her head, her mouth falling a little agape.

Norman nodded. “Camila gave us a brief description from what she got to see of the invader. Obviously it wasn’t very helpful, since he had his back to her. But we’ve been wanting to have a man inside The Threats for a while now, and as bad as it sounds, what happened to you gave us the support we needed. We’re looking for a tall man with dark brown, shoulder length hair, and there aren’t many there. The infiltration is already happening and it will probably be a while until we have our definite answer but we’re pretty certain that it’s them. It suits their style of action, with you having done them wrong and being somewhat famous, it sends a message. Anyway, when we find out who it was, we’re gonna find a way to arrest him without breaking the cover and, hopefully, in the next months we’re gonna be able to bring them all down.”

Lauren blinked, nodding after a moment. That had been one hell of a lot of information to digest at once. And Lauren didn’t know what to think.

Don’t get her wrong, everything made sense and the positive action it had spurred made Lauren feel a little bit better about what had happened. But there was a thought in her mind, this feeling nagging at her, ever since the invasion had happened, and Lauren felt like she couldn’t ignore it.

“Did you know Camila’s parents were killed in a home invasion?” Lauren asked suddenly, making Norman’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Well, yes. We looked at those files as well. It’s a cold case, y’know, and a controversial one at that. I-”

“Controversial? What do you mean?” Lauren interrupted suddenly, deflating a little under the reprimanding gaze of the middle aged man. “Sorry.”

Norman sighed and waved her off. “Alright alright. Look, the investigation is obviously classified, but I can tell you that whoever did it was never caught, so we didn’t have much to go on on that angle besides theorizing. And the evidence of your invasion pointed toward The Threats, too, so there wasn’t much use in digging up the past.”

Lauren’s heart was pounding in her chest. The murderer of Camila’s parents had never been found? That was so much bullshit that Lauren was having trouble breathing. The way her girlfriend dealt with it, Lauren had always thought she had seen the man behind her misery go to prison, but apparently not.

And what this meant for their case… Lauren wasn’t dumb. She had heard Norman, she knew what he had said and she respected him. Everything that had come out of his mouth made complete sense and Lauren knew he was trying his hardest to find the invader to their home and make the most of it to help the city, too. Lauren also wasn’t pretentious. She didn’t think she was better than anyone - with her current state of mind, the thought was worth a laugh -, surely not better than their best, oldest detective.

But the feeling she had… Lauren was neither dumb nor pretentious, but she was intuitive. Or, at least she liked to think so until the two shootings she was involved in. Either way, Lauren trusted her gut. And she knew that she would put her everything in the case, since it was so close to her heart.

But what was she thinking, really? She was a cop, not a detective. There was no case for her to solve. Lauren took a deep breath, nodded and thanked him, receiving a smile in return, but she still felt weird. Her heart was still pounding and her head was keeping up with it after so much information.

Lauren looked at her phone’s clock right after Detective Norman left and noticed that her half an hour was up. She took the medicine Nurse Gutman had given her, trying not to overthink, but it was hard. Lauren knew her anxiety was kicking in, she could feel it in the way the restraints in her mind turned into ropes on her neck, making it harder to breathe. Taking deep breaths, Lauren managed to calm down, but her thoughts were still running wildly.

The worst of it all was that Camila was away and her only company would be nurses and doctors until Keana came to have lunch with her, meaning her mind had the silence to feed upon.

And what a meal it would have.

–//–

A/N: hallo! this one took me quite some time and i’m truly sorry about that. it took a while for me to get out of the craziness that was the fandom, and then i begun writing what was supposed to be a one shot, but it got too long and complicated, so i decided to pause it and make it a mini series, writing the chapters when i can (it’s gonna have like 3 or 4 chapters, i think).

okay so this is shorter than usual and it isn’t my favorite chapter but it has some parts that i really, really like. one sentence in particular is one of my favorites in the series. can anyone guess which one it is?? I’ll give you a cookie hahaha. anyway, i hope that you liked the chapter, and if there’s anything you have to say about it, be it good or bad, feel free to comment! I love reading what you guys think. also, i hope i don’t bore you with the path the fic will follow sahfsk

have a great day/night, babes!

wattpad; ao3

- Camila (brookescabello on tumblr)

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #normally #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #thin walls are calling me home

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