#and yet i can clearly hear him yelling jESSICA in my mind

[skullfragments]

tonight on jeopardy i would’ve won $600 bc one of the answers was “david tennant”

and people try to convince me that spending all day on the internet is a waste of time😒

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one

Here we go, y'all. We're ignoring that it's 3:30 in the morning but I'm just yeeting the first part of this into the wild and hoping it goes well. Ignore typos, we all know that everything I post is a first draft.

I need to thank @hockeywocs, @chara-hugs, and @zinka8 (WHY CAN't I TAG YOU) and all the anons who have come into my ask box to help me with this! ily all!

WARNING: some description of child birth

Hope you like it!

Series masterlist

------------------------------

Part 1: Christmas Day and the day after Christmas

The name for Christmas comes from the shortening of “Christ’s Mass,” a traditionally Christian holiday that celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ to the Virgin Mary and Joseph in a manger in Bethlehem. Although the exact date of his birthday is unknown, around the fourth century the Catholic church fixed the date of this celebration to be December 25th. Other religions and belief systems have similar celebrations around the same time, such as the Winter Solstice, or Midwinter. Celebrations include a mixture of pre-Christian, Christian, and non-secular traditions, such as gift giving, completing an Advent Calendar or Advent Wreath, Christmas music, church services, a special meal with family and loved ones, Christmas trees, lights, nativity scenes, and Santa Claus to name a few.

The day after Christmas, known as Boxing Day in some European countries, is traditionally known as a shopping holiday. In America, this is typically the day when people start to return any unwanted Christmas gifts, stock up for next Christmas on items that are marked down on sale, or see friends that they hadn’t been able to see before Christmas.

=============

December 21, 2021

“One fifteen means fifteen minutes before I have to clock in. Fifteen minutes before a twelve-hour shift that I’m not ready for and don’t have enough caffeine for,” Anne muttered to herself, staring at her reflection through her car's rearview mirror. “But, fifteen minutes before getting to do something that I thankfully love, something that I enjoy doing.” No matter how long the shift in front of her, Anne had developed a habit of giving herself a pep talk before she got out of her car. “Whatever happens, you’ve helped someone.”

The last part wasn’t always true, knowing that there was the possibility that something could go wrong that she and the other nurses and doctors wouldn’t be able to fix. Lying to herself that everything was going to be ok was the only want to convince herself to go into the hospital every day. Finally mustering up enough courage to get out of her car, she grabs her bag from the backseat, heading in for yet another long day right before the Christmas holiday.

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from the job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

“Hey, Tyson, come on!” comes from inside the open doors of the building, Anne not paying attention to who it was coming from, causing her to collide with a stranger, spilling her much-needed coffee all over the both of them.

“Shit,” she says, not looking up from the brown splatter on what should be mint green scrubs. “I am so sorry.”

Standing in front of her was a curly-haired boy, about her age, wearing what she was sure was a Colorado hockey jersey. Beyond that, she had no idea. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy you another,” he offers, ignoring the persistent calls from his friends to hurry up.

Anne checks her watch: 1:19. “It’s ok. I don’t really have the time, I have to clock in in eleven minutes, and knowing the cafeteria or the vending machines, it would take a lot longer,” she says, trying to get by him. Before he can protest, she gets to the elevator that would bring her to her floor, thankful that it was ready to get her there without her having to wait. The doors start to close, only to be stopped by a hand stuck through them, the curly-haired boy with the coffee stain down the front of him getting on the elevator with her. Anne gives him a confused look, begging him to explain why he was trying to make her late for her shift.

“If you aren’t going to let me buy you one now to make up for it, at least let me see where you work so I can drop one off for you.”

Anne rolls her eyes, unamused by the man in front of her as he attempts to flirt with her. “That would be nice, but the chances of me getting it before it goes cold are slim to none, so you need to suggest something else if you really want to buy me a coffee.”

“Let me get your number so I can buy you one when you aren’t working?” he asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 1:25. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”

The elevator dings, signaling that they were on Anne’s floor, opening the door to nurses and doctors running around, expectant fathers who were probably kicked out of the delivery room for making the mom too nervous pacing the halls, grandparents trying to control younger children who had little to no idea what was going on as they waited in the strange building. Anne walks to the backroom to drop her stuff off and clock in, typing her information into the stranger’s phone as he followed her like a puppy, his friend’s texts coming across the top of his screen asking where he went so they could leave.

“I’m Anne, and I’ve got to go,” she tells him, handing back his phone. There was no way he was going to text her, and it’s not like the coffee was that big of a deal to him. She could go to the vending machine down the hall and grab one during her break, or have someone else on their break do it for her if she needed it sooner.

“Can’t wait for our coffee date, Anne,” he says, winking at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back down the hallway.

“Who is he?” her coworker, Jess asked, popping up out of nowhere. “He’s hot.”

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Anne jokes, “he’s also wearing my hot coffee on his shirt.”

“You didn’t,” Jess scolds her, turning her around to see the coffee that was spilled down Anne’s own outfit, knowing Anne’s tendency to be a little absent-minded as she gets wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Anne, you did.”

“Not on purpose!”

“DeFormicola?” Anne’s supervisor, Jackson, pops his head into the room just as she was clocking in, “We need you in room 414.”

“Saved by the bell,” Anne teases, walking down the hall to where all the noise was coming from, trying to throw on the appropriate clothing before she went into the room, struggling to get the gloves on as she entered.

“Ok, Erin, we’re going to need you to push,” one of the doctors says, Anne standing behind him as she watched the baby’s head crowning.

This was her favorite part of the job, helping the mother stay calm and trying to make sure that despite the child coming out of her, she was as comfortable as possible. Normally, she would be with the mom as soon as she came in, Erin clearly nervous as to what was going on. They had to be first-time parents, the dad going back and forth to Erin’s side and behind the doctor, looking mortified each time and clearly regretting what he was seeing.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor says, handing the new baby to a breathless Erin.

“A boy! A boy!” the dad yells, going out to the hallway, Erin clearly unamused by whatever antics he was going about.

“Don’t worry, he’s not the first one to do that,” Anne reassures her, knowing that something like that would happen at least five more times during her shift, hearing the father’s voice repeating the phrase. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and then get him right back to you, ok?” Anne asks, reaching for the baby as everyone else around her tries to clean everything else up.

“Be careful with him,” Erin warns, not meaning anything bad by it. She was definitely a first time mother.

“I will be,” Anne tells her, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket as she does. “So you have a name picked out yet?”

“We were thinking Matthew.”

Anne turns her head, smiling at Erin. “That’s a good name. My older brother is named Matthew.”

Erin smiles at her, the father finally coming back in, clearly overjoyed by the birth of their new baby. Anne hands him back to his parents, Matthew screaming his head off as they get wheeled into another room.

Anne goes over to the desk, sitting down where she was supposed to be for the start of her shift to do paperwork, but the uncertainty in the hour by hour of the schedule was not surprising. She pulls out her phone, ‘Maybe: Tyson’ coming up across her screen.

“He’s already texting me,” she alerts Jess whose head whips away from her computer to look over Anne’s shoulder at what message the mystery man could have sent her.

“He’s horny.”

“Jessica!” she squeals, wishing she was more shocked by what her friend had said. “Why is that always your first reaction to a boy sending a message?”

She shrugs, swiveling back to her own computer, “I’m normally right. What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know when he can buy me coffee.”

“Horny.”

“Enough.”

“You should date him.”

Anne turns to her, clearly unamused by Jess’s need to continue the conversation. “I don’t have to date anyone.”

Jess lets out a long sigh, Anne knowing that she was rolling her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying you should.”

“Ok, I don’t want to date anyone.”

“Oh, come on Anne,” Jess says, getting up and plopping herself on the desk in front of Anne, fiddling with the wire connecting the mouse to the rest of the computer. “You work in a maternity ward where people become parents every day, and you haven’t even thought of finding a man?”

“You don’t have a point,” Anne tells her, not making eye contact with her.

“My point,” Jess says, leaning over to block Anne’s view of her computer screen, “is that you can’t be single forever.”

“Says who?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you were named after the patron saint of the town your grandmothers were from?”

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing where this was going. It was going in the same direction that this conversation always went in when she had it with her mom every single holiday. “All four of us are named after the patron saints of the towns our grandparents are from.”

“St. Anne is the patron saint of child care, grandparents and mothers.”

“She’s also that patron saint of unmarried women, so your argument is invalid, as usual.”

Jess takes in a breath to say something, cut off by Jackson calling for Jess to go into one of the delivery rooms. “Just don’t say no because you think you have to be single,” she advises as she walks away.

Anne leans back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is how Christmas is going to go, isn’t it?” she asks herself.

=============

December 25, 2021

The number of cars lining her parent's driveway meant that she was one of the last ones there, but knowing her aunts and uncles, she wasn’t the last one there. Her parents were the ones who did Christmas Day for her dad’s family, Christmas Eve being the anniversary of her mom’s mom’s death, and, on top of that, Teresa doesn’t talk to her family over some argument and grudge being held over their parent's house.

Scanning the cars, she didn’t see the one belonging to her brother Matthew, or his wife, Stephanie. “I’ll just leave Harper’s gifts in the car,” Anne mutters to herself, trying to juggle as many gifts as she could while also balancing the box of pastries her mom asked her to pick up for dessert.

Without a free hand to open the door, Anne did everything she could to ring the doorbell with her elbow, praying that someone would come to open the door before she dropped anything.

Her younger brother, Sebastian, opens the door, a disappointed look on his face. “What the fuck is all this for?” he asks, taking some of the bags from her arms to lighten her load.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she remarks, “Yours is still in my car if you’re wondering.”

“Did you have to get gifts for everyone?” he asks, Anne greeting her aunts and uncles on the way to the tree to put everything down for later.

“Well, it’s Hazel’s first Christmas," she explains, referencing their sister's youngest daughter, "So getting her something and not getting the other children something seemed wrong, and then Jessica took me shopping and kept saying things like ‘oh this would be perfect for Lucy,’ or ‘oh don’t have you an aunt who likes mystery novels?’ And everything went downhill from there.”

Sebby groans, walking with Anne back out to her car to retrieve the rest of the gifts, Anne still holding the box of pastries since they hadn’t made it to the kitchen yet. “Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel that the bookstore was selling.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel the bookstore was selling,” Anne laughs, Sebby nodding his head. “I got a gift receipt.”

“What did you end up getting Matthew?” he asks her. Anne had texted Sebby in panic on Black Friday, coming home from a day of shopping with Lucy that left her without a gift for Lucy’s twin brother.

Grabbing the rest of the gifts and handing them to Sebby, she closes the door to her car and starts to go back inside. “I found this ‘make your own wine’ kit that I think he would like. That way Steph doesn’t have to listen to him complaining about how the stuff she drinks is ‘too sweet.’”

“What about for me?” Sebby asks, nudging Anne with his elbow as they arrange the rest of the gifts in the already mountainous pile under the tree.

“Oh, I knew there was someone I forgot,” she says sarcastically, Sebby ripping the bow off one of her carefully wrapped presents and throwing it at her. “Ok, now I’m never getting you a gift again.”

Sebby laughs, helping his older sister off the ground. The two of them wander into the kitchen, slipping in unnoticed due to the sheer number of family members and noise that was filling the room. “Aunt Anne! Aunt Anne!” Harper and Skylar squeal in unison when her nieces spot her, hoping that either she or Sebby had grabbed Harper, Matthew, and Stephanie’s gifts. She didn’t think there was anything left in her trunk.

“Hey there, fireflies,” Anne greets them, bending down as they both kiss her on the cheek. “Guess what? Santa stopped by my place and left some gifts for you, but he made me promise that you two were really good today if you want to open them after dessert, ok?”

The two girls nod excitedly, bouncing up and down at Anne’s words. To still be young and believe in Santa, that must be nice.

“Hey, ma,” Anne finally finds her mother, putting down the box of pastries in front of her and kissing her on the cheek. “Upstairs or downstairs fridge?”

“It goes downstairs. Come on, I have someone I want you to meet,” her mother says, dragging you away from your aunts that had aggregated around her. They all had excited looks on their faces, something that instantly worried Anne as she followed her mother down the stairs with the box. She could hear Matthew and Lucy’s voices, knowing that her brother and sister’s wife and husband had to be down there with them, too. “Matthew told me about this friend of his who couldn’t make it home for Christmas,” her mother whispers before she got to the last step.

“Mom, no,” Anne says, already knowing where this was heading. “I told you: I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“But I don’t have a grandson,” her mom whines, shaking Anne’s hand in her own against her chest.

“How is that my fault?”

“If you just find a nice boy, and get married, I just know you’re going to be my child that has a boy.”

“Oh my god,” Anne groans, pushing past her to get to the fridge.

Teresa pulls Anne over to the couches where her siblings were, Lucy sitting on one with her feet in Jason’s lap, Jason’s hand lazily rubbing his wife’s shins. Matthew was on the other, Stephanie nuzzled against his shoulder, all four of them with a glass of wine and three bottles open. Next to Matthew was a guy sitting there awkwardly, straightening his back when he saw you while Sebby tried to contain his laughter as he sat on the floor. “Jeremy, this is my youngest daughter, Anne. Anne, this is Jeremy,” she introduces the two of them before running up the stairs.

“I do have a girlfriend, actually,” Jeremy says, “So I’m sorry.”

Anne and her siblings burst out laughing, Lucy pouring her sister a glass of wine. “If only this were the first time Ma tried to set Anne up with a guy who was seeing someone.”

“I even tried to tell her that but she didn’t listen,” Matthew adds. “It’s better than when she tried to set you up with Adam,” he says, referencing Lucy’s partner at their optometry practice.

“Yeah, his husband wasn’t too thrilled by that potential match,” Sebby says.

They all keep talking, Anne just sitting and listening to them reminisce about all the people their parents had tried to set her up within their desperate attempt for her to no longer be single. It didn’t help that the last time she listened to them about dating was Andy, the boy who cheated on her when they got to college. Apparently going to school half an hour from each other wasn’t enough for him to keep up their two-year relationship instead of shoving his tongue down multiple girls throats before doing god only knows what else.

“When do you think they’ll stop trying to set me up with someone?” Anne finally pips in, accidentally cutting off something Jeremy was saying as she stared at the wine she was swirling in the glass.

“When you get a boyfriend,” her siblings say in unison.

“I hate all of you for doing that,” she laughs. “But, seriously, why is it so important that I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, you know your mother,” Jason says, putting his glass down on the floor. “She saw what Lucy and I had and then wanted that for all her children.”

Lucy playfully shoves him, kissing him as Anne and Sebby groan. “She just wants you to be happy, and to her and dad, happiness is marriage and a family.”

“Where am I going to meet someone if I go to work or here where they try to bring in non-single non-potential suitors?” she asks, looking over at Jeremy. “Sorry.”

He shrugs, not able to get a word in before Matthew starts, “What if you met someone at work like how Steph and I met?”

“Yeah because there are so many single men walking around the maternity ward,” she says, her phone buzzing in front of her. “What about you, though, Seb, how’s Collins?” Anne asks, changing the subject.

“Eh,” he shrugs, his eyes wandering to Anne’s phone screen, “I’m not sure we’re going to last to graduation.”

“What?” Lucy squeals, causing Jason to jump as she threw her legs out of his lap. “I thought you said she was ‘the one’?”

Sebby looks down at his glass, a stupid smirk on his face. “Nah, that changed. She doesn’t want me to go to law school in Boston, she wants me to stay here or move to California with her.”

“But the adventure of moving with your girlfriend to another state!” Matthew offers, Stephanie rolling her eyes.

“Matthew, not everyone needs adventure like you do, hon.”

Anne’s phone buzzes again, a reminder that she had a text waiting for her. Picking it up before Sebby can see who it is, ever the nosy little brother, she sees a message from Tyson popping up as they continue their conversation about Sebby’s love life and Anne’s lack thereof. . They had only been texting for a few days since their encounter at the hospital, but every time his name came up she couldn’t help but smile, lifting the wine glass to her lips to cover it in hopes of her siblings not noticing.

How’s your Christmas been so far?

A simple ‘eh’ as a response was all that she needed to send. It could be worse, but her mom trying to set her up with a guy with a girlfriend was definitely not something that made for a good Christmas. The only thing that could be worse is if their dad came home early from the flight he was on with a guy he picked up in whatever country he had to go to that prompted him to miss the holiday. Normal dads who had to travel would bring their kids back little trinkets or a postcard, but Anne wouldn’t put it past Tony to borderline kidnap someone from the plane he was flying and bring them home for Anne.

Tyson’s contact comes up again, an incoming call that prompted Anne to step away so she could answer it. “What’s up?”

“You said your Christmas was ‘eh.’ What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” she groans, pressing her back up against the fridge.

“Well, what if I have something that might make it better?” he flirts.

“Oh? Like what”

“What if I said I’m 100% free to buy you that coffee any time tomorrow, since I know you said you didn’t have work, and you can tell me about Christmas then?”

Anne hears her siblings laugh not ten feet away, praying that they couldn’t hear her conversation. Taking in a deep breath, she knew that her cheeks were turning pink at his words. “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, walking back over to join her siblings.

“I’ll text you details,” he tells her, hanging up.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy yells, interrupting their conversation. “Anne was talking to a boy.”

“What the hell? What makes you think that?” she asks.

“Your cheeks are red," Lucy says, prompting Anne to raise her hand to feel the heat radiating from her face, "Who else would you be seeing tomorrow?” her sister eggs on, her eyebrow raised since she knew she was right.

Anne tries to find her words, unable to think of a name that wasn’t a guy's name to blurt out.

“Is it Tyson?” Sebby asks, Anne’s unlocked phone in his hand.

“You jackass!” she yells, lunging at her brother to try to get her phone back.

Teresa’s footsteps sound down the stairs, her poking her head between the gap in the stair rail and the steps themselves, Anne and Sebby looking like a deer in headlights when they see their mom. “I was coming to say that dinner was ready, but what’s going on here?”

“Anne has a boy she wasn’t telling us about,” Sebby blabs, earning an ‘I’ll kill you’ look from Anne.

“Oh! Annie!” their mom squeals, running down the stairs to pick her up off the ground and hug her. “Why didn’t you tell us about him?”

“I, uh,” Anne starts, still not sure what to say.

“You have to bring him to New Year’s Day at Uncle Vince’s house,” she tells her, the rest of the siblings following Anne being dragged back up the stairs for dinner, her mom announcing that Anne had a boyfriend when she, in fact, didn’t.

=============

December 26, 2021

“So, are you going to tell me why your Christmas was only ‘eh,’ or am I going to have to guess?” Tyson asks, setting down two cups of coffee in front of them. Tyson had asked Anne to meet him at a small coffee shop that was within walking distance of her apartment, thankful that she didn’t have to drive through Denver on the day where everyone was returning anything unwanted, like her Aunt Lisa returning one of the copies of the Agatha Christie novel that her and Sebby each got her.

Anne groans, the images of last night’s dinner flashing through her mind. “Can we talk about something else, first?”

“Fine,” Tyson says, taking a long sip of the coffee, “What did you get for gifts?”

She raises her eyebrow at him, Tyson mirroring her expression except with a goofy grin on his face. Rolling her eyes, she starts listing off the stuff she got: “My parents got me a new attachment for my KitchenAid stand mixer since my younger brother, Sebby, broke it last time he was over and a voucher for a flight anywhere in the country like they do every year, um, some gift cards from my aunts and uncles, my nieces all did their best attempts at drawing a portrait of me, Sebby told me he was going to come over and make dinner for me, which scares me because he can’t cook, Matthew and his wife got me some books they thought I would like, and Lucy and her husband got me this bracelet,” Anne tells him, extending her arm out to show him.

“I have so many questions,” Tyson starts.

“I might have answers,” Anne tells him, raising her cup to him.

“How big is your family?”

“I’m the third of four, Lucy and Matthew are twins and are about five years older than me, then Sebby is a year younger than me. Lucy has two daughters and Matthew has one. My dad has two brothers; one older, one younger. The older one has three kids, the younger has two and then three grandchildren.”

“Mom’s family?”

Anne looks down at her coffee. “I’m the only one who talks to anyone on that side of the family. My mom and her brother got into a fight when their parents died over what was left to them. My uncle has two daughters and two granddaughters.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking between the coffee and Anne.

She shrugs, not really bothered by it at this point. “It’s whatever. I talk to them because I want to, so it’s fine. What other questions do you have, though?”

“The ticket voucher?”

“Yeah,” Anne laughs, “Our dad is a pilot with Southwest Airlines, so every Christmas they give us a voucher to fly anywhere we want. They say they want to make sure that we take time for ourselves, but I think Dad gets some sort of bonus for every voucher he buys.”

Tyson throws his head back laughing. It wasn’t that funny, but seeing him so happy, Anne couldn’t help but smile back at him. “What about you, what did you get for Christmas?”

“My mom and sister flew down and basically restocked my kitchen for me.”

“Ok, that’s a great present, though,” she says. “Where was your dad?”

The smile from Tyson’s face fades, not looking up at Anne. “I never knew him. My mom and grandmother raised me.”

“Oh, Tyson,” she says, reaching out for his hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

He shrugs, a forced smile on his face. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I don’t think. My mom and my grandmother are the reason I am who I am. I wouldn’t give that up or change it.”

The two of them sit there, Anne trying to think about how many times she helped deliver a baby when the father was nowhere to be found. She normally figured they were busy or just not in the delivery room, not being there all together was something she couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But enough about me. Why was your Christmas ‘eh’?”

“My family has it in their heads that I need a boyfriend,” she admits, Tyson smirking at her words. “And my brother saw your texts coming up on my phone and being the asshole that he is, announced that I was texting a boy, so now, I need to find someone to bring with me to my uncle’s house on New Year’s Day that I can pass off as you.”

Tyson gives her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t you just bring me?”

Anne sits there, a shocked look on her face. “Because they think ‘Tyson’ is my boyfriend, and you aren’t?”

“So we pretend. They don’t need to know,” he shrugs, acting like it was no big deal.

“That would never work,” Anne dismisses him.

“Why not? You don’t think I’m a good actor?” Tyson whines, acting insulted at Anne’s words.

She scoffs, “Ok, one, hockey players are never good actors, and two, Sebby or Lucy are bound to figure out that you are not my boyfriend. Sebby wants to be a lawyer so he analyzes everything and Lucy is just this perfect anomaly of a human who would be bound to figure it out.”

“I think I can play your boyfriend for New Year’s Day,” he says, confidence dripping in his voice.

“No, I can’t have you do that.”

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from thhe job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

[dreamescapeswriting]

High School Never Ends ~ MYG [M] [Request]

↱↱↱Word count: 3.5K

↱↱↱Genre: Smut, fluff, High School Reunion!Au, AU! CEO!Yoongi

↱↱↱Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!Reader

↱↱↱a/n: Hope you enjoy this babes! Hope it’s okay for you !! If anyone knows this song I automatically love you and you get 50 points to your hogwarts house

This was the stupidest idea you'd ever had to date and you can't believe you'd gone along with it in your mind. It was supposed to be a good idea to do this, see everyone you knew from school but you had no friends in High School except for one and he wasn't there. You glanced around the room at everyone it was your high school reunion of ten years and everyone looked so different from what they used to but they all seemed to be the same idiots only with bigger families and more things to brag about. Each of them trying to one-up the other with stories about their lives,

"You should see our house!" The old head cheerleader practically screeched so that the whole hall could hear it. She had her usual gaggle of friends all crowding around her, none of them had changed from school and it was as though they were all clinging to the idea of being a clique so hard they never made any other friends. Everyone from your year had turned up and were crammed into the old sports hall of your school. The cheerleaders and jocks all still clustered together in the corner of the room talking about their old achievements and all of their new ones. Even the nerds were together in the corner of the room while you sat alone at a circle table playing with your name tab. 

"Pathetic, right?" You almost jumped off the chair upon hearing a voice come from beside you but the name card fell from your hands and onto the table in front of you, your eyes scanned to see who it was and sitting there in a black suit jacket was Min Yoongi. Your old high school friend - more like acquaintance since you never really hung out outside of school and would just study together and each lunch without speaking. You took in his appearance as you stared at him, he was wearing a black blazer jacket with a red and black shirt underneath. His hair was a black and crimped giving it a fluffy look that made you want to reach out and touch it.

"Yeah," You laughed awkwardly not knowing how to act around him it had been years since you'd seen him and yet the feelings he made you feel were still there, he'd always made you feel so flustered, confused and sometimes as though you were floating. All that boy had to do was hold eye contact with you for too long and you would feel the butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"You're Yoongi right?" You asked making him laugh a little harder than he should have, he showed off his gummy smile and his nose scrunched up as he laughed. 

"Yeah I am," You let out a laugh along with him relieved that it was actually Min Yoongi and not some weird look-alike that had come along to this instead. He shifted his seat closer to you and pointed over at the main ''it'' couple from your high school years, 

"Katie and Tom had a baby, and I think Brad and Reese finally got together." He was faking a gossiping tone to make you laugh at him, he chuckled and you both stared at the head cheerleader made her way over to your table.

"Something funny?!" She asked leaning her hands down on the table and staring you down, you stared up at her worried it was going to be like high school over again and she would pour a drink over you but she didn't. Her whole demeanour changed when her eyes danced along the name card next to yours and she was suddenly pulling you from your seat and batting her fake eyelashes at Yoongi - who looked scared.

"You look amazing Yoongi," She said seductively running her hands up and down his suit jacket before twirling some of her blonde hair around her finger, anyone could see she was trying too hard.

"You should come back to my place later, we're throwing a party." He nodded, his mouth formed a hard line as he looked up at you and winked making you frown at what he was thinking. 

"Only if I can bring along my lovely wife." He held out his hand to gesture you and your eyes widened for a second before realising that Jessica - the cheerleader - was staring at you with her mouth hanging open. 

"Wife?! There are no articles of your wife anywhere," She said trying to remain calm but you could tell that you just standing there was starting to irritate her. Yoongi took your hand in his and he pulled you around to sit on his lap, you could feel your face heating up at the action, but you smiled at Jessica who was looking you up and down as you sat together. Yoongi knew she wasn't buying it so he tilted your head to look at him and leant close to your lips, your heart was pounding against your chest as his lips hovered above yours teasing your lips, 

"Are you going to sit and watch?" He questioned Jessica and she huffed getting up and leaving you both alone. 

"I'm your wife now?" You laughed sitting back on the chair beside him but he dragged the chair closer to his, wrapping his arm around the back of it and nodding. 

"Might as well have some fun with this reunion might we?" You giggled as he smirked at you wiggling his eyebrows up and down at you making you laugh. 

You opened the door to the old library where you and Yoongi used to spend all of your time together and laughed as you walked around searching for the old desk you both used to sit at. Yoongi walked around the bookshelves watching you from afar as you dropped down onto all fours and began searching underneath all of the desks, he looked away when he realised you were in a dress and he stared at some books. You'd looked amazing since the moment he walked into the hall, you were the first person he'd noticed when he walked in, your hair was done perfectly and you looked even better than you did in school. You were matured now and living your best life, or what he assumed was your best life. When he'd first gotten to the table he'd searched for an engagement ring or a wedding ring and was happy that there wasn't any but it still didn't confirm that you were available. 

"What are you doing?" Yoongi questioned as he came out from a shelf to see you looking under one desk and frowning, you were clearly looking for something but couldn't find it.

"HA! I got it!" You screamed telling him to come and join you on the floor, he frowned but dropped down beside you looking up at the desk to see your name and his name drawn together in a bubble.

"When did you-"

"The last day here, you were in a music exam and while I was waiting behind for you I wrote our names." You giggled running your hand over the sharpie, Yoongi's hand reached up at the same time and you ended up holding hands together over the handwriting. He leant down to you and your lips were almost touching once again, just as you went to lean in to kiss him and finally connect your lips the door slammed open and a voice sounded through the air,

"I'm telling you it was Min Yoongi and he said he was dating Y/n y/l/n!" He held his hand up to your mouth so you wouldn't talk and you both shifted so your legs couldn't be spotted, Jessica walked through the library while talking on the phone. 

"Why would I lie about Min Fucking Yoongi being here?! He's fucking gorgeous and I'm telling you I'm going to get him to fuck me before the night is over." You laughed into Yoongi's hand and his eyes widened as Jessica stopped walking, you moved closer to him and he smirked at you as you laid your head in his chest afraid of being found under the table. 

"He must have gone to the music hall," She left the room and as soon as the coast was clear you and Yoongi crawled out from under the desk and leant against a bookshelf erupting into a fit of laughter together.

"You should go for it Yoongi, I'm sure you'll be very happy together." You managed to say between laughter but he was just shaking his head at you. The laughter slowly stopped and you both stared at each other, you glanced down at the floor, 

"Don't do that," He whined out making you frown, he tilted your head up to look at him. 

"You did that in school whenever you got insecure, you've got absolutely nothing to be insecure about you're...breathtaking." Your heartbeat was building up as he thumb ran over your chin tilting your head to the side and staring into your eyes.

"Kiss me." You whispered and he didn't need telling twice, he leant closer and your lips touched moving in sync together. The fact that you were in the middle of your old school library on the floor was forgotten, all that mattered was that Yoongi was holding you with his hands and pulling you closer to him. 

You pulled apart for breaths when you heard yelling coming from down the hall again, 

"Make a run for it?" He questioned looking at you, you nodded and headed for the backdoor of the library and ran down the hall together hand in hand as you tried to get away from Jessica and her wailing voice.

 "Whoa." You whispered as the double doors to the elevator opened to reveal a penthouse apartment. The whole living room was bigger than your studio apartment, 

"Yoongi this place is insane!" You yelled looking at the wall of floor to ceiling windows that looked out at the city of Seoul, you had no idea what Yoongi did for a living but whatever it was insane. 

"Can I apply for a job at your place?" You joked kicking off the heels you were wearing and walked along the white carpet and going over to the windows, Yoongi watched as you made yourself at home and it made him smile. He'd invited you over for a drink and a real catchup away from all of the girls from your school who were trying to flirt with him. The windows were triple-glazed and so clean that you felt as though you were outside instead of standing in the apartment, it was crazy to you.

"Here," He handed you a glass of champagne and you followed him over to sit on the white corner sofa in front of the window, you never wanted to look away from the view.

"How come you never got married?" You questioned two hours later as he gave you the grand tour of the two-story penthouse apartment, he shrugged his shoulders. 

"I don't know, why didn't you?" Of course, he knew why he hadn't married anyone, there was no one that would ever compare to you and he didn't want to waste his time trying to find someone that wasn't you. He'd spent a lot of his life lonely and waiting for fate to bring you back together, believing that if it was meant to be it would be.

"No one ever came along," You laughed but he stopped still in front of you making you bump into his chest, he wrapped his arms around your waist before you could fall back. 

"I don't believe that for a second," The kiss came back into your mind and you wished he would do it again but neither of you had spoken about it since it happened. 

"It's true, no one has ever been interested in me Yoongi, even in school." He rolled his eyes at you,

"I was interested in school...even now." His eyes widened as he admitted that to you but you both stayed still and silent with his arm still wrapped around you.

"It - er...It must get lonely up here." You whispered trying to change the subject, he shook his head at you. 

"It's not so bad now you're here to share it with me." He ran his hand over your cheek and you leant against his touch wanting it never to stop.

"I'm going to kiss you again, okay?" You nodded and he stood you up straight wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him down to your height and you connected your lips, moving in sync once again but this time it was hot and filled with passion for one another, it felt as though your entire body was on fire and your thoughts were clouded. All that filled your brain was the way Yoongi was touching you, and holding you close to him. Neither of you wanted to pull away but you needed to breathe.

"You're so perfect," He whispered, you slammed your lips onto his almost knocking the wind from his chest but he smirked against your lips bending down and picking you up. He started carrying you off towards his bedroom while you continued to kiss him, moving from his lips down to his neck where you sucked at the base of his neck, he let out a groan of pleasure and you smirked against his skin.

He laid you down on the bed as he kissed down your neck this time running his hands up and down your waist as you tried to take the shirt off his body, 

"What's wrong baby?" He smirked when he saw your body shiver from the nickname he was giving you, 

"Shirt, off." You whined out and he took the shirt off before reaching for the zip at the side of your dress he pulled it off you and your arms went to cover yourself out of habit but he pulled them away and kissed down your body, 

"You're beautiful, there's no need to hide from me." You let out a hiss as he lifted off the thong you were wearing and ran his finger over your folds touching your sensitive bud making you moan out. 

"Already so needy?" You nodded looking at him as he kissed each of your thighs making you close your eyes of the sensation of having him that close to you. You back arched as his tongue came into contact with your clit and he began lapping up your arousal making you cry out his name, your hands gripped onto the sheets around you and he stared up at you smirking. 

"Y-Yoongi," You whined out taking a fistful of his hair as you could feel the coil in your stomach threatening to snap already at how skilled he was at this, it was like something from a porn movie. 

"What's wrong baby?" He teased again blowing cold air on your clit and making you moan out as soon as he attached his lips onto your clit sucking and nipping on it while he added two fingers into you. You clenched around him and he moaned against your clit the vibrations making you see stars, 

"C-Close." You panted as you began sweating, you'd only ever cum once and it was by your own hand. Having someone else bring you to a climax was something new and wonderful, 

"Cum for me then baby, whenever you're ready just cum." You moaned out closing your eyes as he went back to eating you out. His pace altered slightly and he began pumping his fingers a lot faster, curling them up to each your g-spot and making you cry out his name each time he hit it. 

"Shit." You legs shook as you tried to hold back the orgasm that was approaching but the noises he was making while eating you out were practically pornographic and made your breath hitch. The coil inside of you snapped and your orgasm rolled through your body having you want to cry out in ecstasy he hummed against you as he pulled away from you and brought his face back up to yours making out with you against the mattress. You didn't care that you could taste yourself you wanted him inside of you right then and there. You palmed him through his trousers as you made out on the bed and he grunted against your lips as you reached your hand through the fabric and began pumping him slowly.

"I fucking need you so bad," He whispered in your ear pulling away from you and taking off his trousers, you went to get on your knees but he stopped you and laid you on the bed. 

"Another time, I need you." Another time. There was going to be another time? You filled with hope and began kissing him as he shifted you so you were laying on one of the pillows at the top of the bed. He reached for a condom and rolled it onto his length and lined himself up at your entrance, his tip was just at your entrance and it had you whining for him. 

"Fuck you're so beautiful when you moan my name like that," You smirked up at him and held eye contact with him as you whined out his name longer thing time, 

"You're going to be the death of me, you ready?" You nodded and he slowly pushed himself into you inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you with your legs spread either side of him. 

"Shit," You cursed as you tried to get used to his size, it had been so long since you'd been with someone. 

"You're so tight." He grunted as he began to do small thrusts until you told him to move. Your hands gripped onto his biceps as he began slowly pulling out of you and thrusting deep inside once again hitting your hilt without trying. He smirked as you begged him to go faster, he held your waist in one hand and held onto the headboard with the other thrusting into you faster. 

"Right there," You whimpered as he began to hit you deeper, he hooked your right leg over his arm to angle himself better and your breath caught in your throat at how deep he was. 

"H-Harder Yoongi." You begged and he obliged loving the way his name sounded coming from your voice like that, pounding into you ruthlessly as you cried out his name and ran your fingernails down his arms crying out his name over and over again as he hit exactly where you needed him.

Your mouth fell open as you could feel the coil tightening once again for the second time that night, he smirked feeling you clenching around him and he let out a breathy groan followed by your name. 

"You're so fucking tight, jesus." He grunted wrapping both of your legs around his waist and fucking you down into the mattress, he brought his lips back down to you and you made out while he pounded into you. 

"Y-Yoongi I'm close again." You whined out not wanting it to end, he kissed your neck and up to your ear, 

"I want to feel you cum around my cock," He whispered in your ear almost sending you over the edge but he began sucking on your neck and you screamed out his name as he hit deeper. 

"Yoongi I'm- fuck," Your body started to shake from pleasure and he reached down rubbing your clit with his fingers and you pulled on his hair as he continued making out with you. 

"Fuck Yoongi!" You cried out convulsing around him as you rode out your high, his thrusts began getting sloppier until he came to a stop and hovered above you. Both of you were dripping in sweat and panting loudly. 

"What?" You asked as he chuckled at you, he pulled out and threw away the used condom coming over to you and kissing your forehead.

"Nothing, I've just imagined that since we were in high school." You giggled at him and he pulled you to lay on his chest. 

"I have too." You admitted closing your eyes as you listened to his heart, it was beating just as fast as yours was. 

"I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow, the least I could do for my fake wife." He teased making you laugh tiredly. He kissed the top of your head as he noticed how tired you were, 

"Goodnight beautiful." He whispered reaching for the sheet and laying them over you both. 

"Goodnight Yoongi," You whispered back to him falling asleep in his arms while he smiled down at you wondering how he was ever going to sleep with someone so beautiful next to him. 

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii​ 

[comfortcharacterinc]

The Other Side.

The Other Side by Ruelle was the inspiration for this piece. 

Written by me, all mistakes are mine. 

Summary: When Jessica shows her face, Y/N begins sabotaging her relationsjip with Sam. A fight ensues. Will Sam go back with Jessica or stay with Y/N?

You laid in your room after fighting with Sam. It was a useless fight, neither of you really winning, but the fight had still happened. As you laid there, the entire fight replayed on loop through your tear soaked brain. 

 “Jesus Christ, Sam! NO. When Dean took me out, it was for a fucking case. I had to play bait for the Dragon!” You had yelled when Sam got you alone after pestering you with ‘why’ seventy times. It was Sam’s turn to yell then, and it had you shrinking back and stepping away from him.  

  “You know… you fucking know how you being bait affects me! You of ALL people should know how it affects me. Using the natural targets has worked fine, and I don’t see why you insist on me reliving Jessica all over again!” He had yelled at you, causing your blood to run cold. 

You looked in his direction and said,  “The difference between me and Jessica is that I know what I signed up for when I started dating you. Clearly I’m below her in your ranks of girlfriends.” You had said, stepping around Sam and going for the door. Sam called your name, but you had cut him off by saying, “No. I get it. When you get over yourself, come find me.”

 You had gone to your room after that, and that had been two days ago. What Sam doesn’t know, and what dean and you had lied about is how Jessica is back.

 Breathing.

Alive.

And she’s looking for your boyfriend.

Dean had told you about the ring Sam was going to give her. How he was going to marry her, have that apple pie life.

With her.

 Not you. 

When she showed up looking for Sam while he was out on a hunt with Garth, you knew your time in Sam’s life was getting cut short. After that realization, you starting pulling away. Starting taking risks—albeit calculated—that you knew that would gyrate on Sam’s last nerve in hopes that it would drive him away. So far, though, it hadn’t worked yet. 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but apparently you had cried in your sleep because when you woke, the tears had left a sticky feel to your eyes and cheeks. You got up out of bed, rubbing your face, and made it out of your room for the first time in two—now three—days. 

Walking into the library, you heard the boys talking. You heard the shower running. You stopped and focused in on the talking first, hearing the boys’ conversation:

  “No, Dean, how is she alive?! I watched her burn on the ceiling of our apartment in Stanford!” Sam explained, earning a grunt from Dean.

  “Dude, all I know is that she showed up here a few days ago. Said she was looking for you, but she was talking to Y/N. Clearly, Y/N didn’t want you to know and when she finds out you invited her into our home, she’s going to be hurt. No, this is going to break her.” Dean clarified, and Sam replied but you were too focused on the sight of Jessica coming from the hallway dressed in a pair of Sam’s sweats and the Stanford shirt you always wore. 

You stepped around the corner to watch how she hugged onto Sam the way you used to, the way you did just two days ago. Dean made eye contact with you before you bolted for the door. 

Forgetting it was winter, and Kansas tends to get covered in snow, you ran out in your pajamas and just your fuzzy socks on your feet. That didn’t stop you though. No, you ran and ran until you got to your little hut that you built for times like these. When your heart and mind were breaking and you couldn’t stop it. 

It’s way past sunset when Dean gives up on looking. Sam, however, doesn’t want to give up so easily. Dean pulls to the side of the road after Sam yells stop. With Jessica in the backseat and Sam unbuckling as fast as he can, Dean snaps, “What now, Samuel?! What could possibly be so important that you risk this snow storm at night?! She’s not stupid enough to stay out in this weather. You know this!” 

  “Dean, I know her more than you do. Just give me 15 minutes, 30 minutes tops. Please.” Sam begs in reply, and at Dean’s exasperated wave of his hand, Sam is out of the car and running into the thicket. Dean, not knowing about the hut, thinks Sam has lost his mind for the eighth time this decade. 

Sam gets to the hut, and he sees you huddled in the corner. You’ve turned the little battery powered heater on, but its not enough to warm your body completely. Sam lets out what little heat you’ve collected when he bursts into the room. Flinching at the cold, you look to sam and start to say something but he doesn’t let you speak. 

Instead, he gently yanks you into his body. Surrounding you with his coat and flannel. You go to speak again, but he kisses you deeply. Effectively silencing any more attempts from you. 

Pulling back, he whispers, “We are buried deep in broken dreams. We are knee deep without a plea. I don’t want to know what it’s like to live without you; don’t want to know the other side of a world without you.”

Sniffling, you pull him tighter against you, whispering, “Sam… I…”

Cutting you off, seeing your struggle Sam says, “You and I both have broken dreams. We know those dreams in and out, without a doubt of just how its affected us. Y/N, I’m in love with you. So deeply, I have no plea to get out. I don’t want out. I don’t want to know a life without you. No, you ARE my life. The reason why I get up in the mornings; why I keep fighting. Baby, please… she means nothing to me. She knows that, I know that. Hell, Dean made sure he knew that. I know you’re scared that she’s going to come in and take me away from you. But… in order to take me, she has to get me. She aint gettin me, baby. Only one person has me, and that’s you. Please let me take you home. I need to get you inside and warming up.” He says, and when you wrap around his neck, he picks you up. 

He carries you to the impala, and dean is out of the car in an instant. Opening the passenger side door so Sam can sit with you in front of the heat. Shaking, you grab for the blanket Dean had gotten out for you. Sam immediately covers you up with it, holding you tightly as dean drives to the bunker. 

You may not know why Jessica came back, or what her game plan was, but all you knew was that Sam was forever yours as he got you out of the car and into the bunker without so much as a glance toward Jessica. And at that, you let Sam take care of you. Just like he wanted from the beginning. 

Sometimes, The Other Side isn’t better.  

[justauthoring]

even after it all.

Request: I’m such a slut for Until Dawn, so you’re crazy if you think I won’t jump on the opportunity to get more Until Dawn stuff and from my favorite fanfic writer. I’d love a Josh Washington fic where the reader (his gf) finds out that he’s been behind everything and goes out with Chris and Mike to the shed to stand up for him because she knows they’ll be hard on him and she knows he just needs help and better meds. Thank you!

Requested by: @itsfangirlmendes​

Pairing: Josh Washington x Reader Word Count: 2,019 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Surely, you were imagining this...

right?

You eye both Chris and Ashley, who are both still tied to the chairs, to Mike and Sam who both work quickly to untie the former’s. But you can see the looks on their faces. The anger on Ashley and Mike’s, the absolute disgust and dismay, and the complete confusion on Sam and Chris’ face. An expression, unlike the others, you mimic because you’re just as confused. Maybe even more so.

You’re positive you are just dreaming. Or someone was playing some sort of prank on you. Because... this? Josh being the one behind all of this? It... This can’t be real.

“Josh...”

Your call for him isn’t heard over the yells of the others. Nor is it heard over the maniacal laughing that pours from Josh’s lips as he circles around, pacing on his feet aimlessly with the brightest smile upon his lips you’re sure you’ve ever seen in a long time. And it hurts, because since his sisters, you’ve never left his side, never once abandoned him or made him feel guilty about needing his support. You were just there for him, whenever he needed you. And you’d tried to make him smile like that, like he used to, for months, but nothing ever worked.

Except, apparently, this.

“Oh, oh, very good!” He applauds, circling past you. You find yourself slipping to the back, unable to believe the sight before you. And honestly, it doesn’t even really hurt you that Josh doesn’t acknowledge your presence. “Every one of you. Got my name! And after all you’ve been through. Good-good-good-good! I mean how does that feel?”

You catch Mike’s gaze, your own distraught, tearful gaze meeting his harsh, frustrated expression. You want to defend Josh, but you can’t. Not in this scenario. So as you look at Mike, you can’t blame him for being so angry, only managing to avoid his gaze you glance down at your feet, your hand falling to your cheek where -- who you’d originally thought was the psycho -- had hit you.

“Right? How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorized? Humiliated? I mean, panicked? All those emotions that my sisters got to feel a year ago! Only guess what? They didn’t get to laugh it off? No! Nope! No! No! They’re gone!”

“I don’t know if you noticed this,” Mike speaks up for the first time, gesturing around himself. “Josh, but none of us are laughing.”

“Oh come! Come-come-come-come! Why the long faces? Come on!” 

Your heart sinks, entire body tensing when Josh makes his way over to you. You don’t have the heart or strength to shrug away from him as he pulls you close, wrapping his arm tightly around like he always has but this time, it feels different. For obvious reasons why. And your heart both hurts and pounds madly against your chest in fear. Which feels so incredibly wrong because he’s your boyfriend and you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

“It’s good to get the heart racing every now and then, right?” You cringe, trying to pull away as he pulls you closer, eyes twisting shut. “And race they did, I mean, every one of you, just pitter-pat, pitter-pat! I hope you appreciated my little phantasmagorical spectacle! I mean, no detail too small. No opportunity missed. It was such a delight to play the puppet master to all your Pavlovian panic! And all that gore? I mean, gore, there was gore-galore! Fake bodies... I mean, god that shit was expensive. And no retakes. Nope. Nope. Only double takes. You should’ve seen your faces.

“Hook line and sinker, for every little stinker!”

“Josh,” Sam calls, desperate, “why are you doing this?”

“Don’t even ask this squirrelly little runt. He’s got no clue. He’s out of his fucking tree.” You blink when Mike makes his way over to you and Josh, slipping his hand gently around your arm and pulling you from Josh’s grasp. You notice the look of distraught and surprise on Josh’s face but don’t do anything about it, glad to be out of his grasp. “I mean, you hit your own fucking girlfriend. What the fuck, man.”

You meet Josh’s eyes, and you know he’s eyeing the bruised spot on your cheek.

“Well, he’s definitely off his meds.” Chris concludes.

“Aw, come on, you guys,” Josh calls, as if surprised by your none-too-impressed response. “Revenge is the best medicine.”

But I didn’t even prank Hannah. I... I tried to stop them. I tried to help her...

“You’re done!” Mike demands, shaking his head.

“Mike,” you call softly, shaking your head. “He’s sick.”

“What?” Josh mumbles, “come on, you guys are all gonna thank me when you become internet sensations!”

“Wa-Wait, what?”

“Oh you better believe this is little puppy going viral ladies and germs.” Josh exclaims, an excited glint to his eyes. “I mean... we got, we got unrequited love. We got... we got blood! I don’t think there’s enough hard drives in China to-to count all the views we’re gonna get, you guys.”

“What are you talking about, you ass-hat?” Mike demands. “Jessica is FUCKING DEAD!”

Maybe it’s wrong of you, maybe it’s biased, especially after all he’s done, but as you glance over at Josh, something tells you he’s genuinely surprised. Genuinely upset. That what Mike just said, he hadn’t had any part of it.

“What?”

“Did you hear him?” Mike asks, circling around the table to quickly make his way over to Josh. Jessica is dead and you are gonna fucking pay you dick!”

-

“You only see what you wanna see. You’re blind!”

With great reluctance, you’d managed to convince Chris and Mike to let you come with them to tie Josh up. They tried to convince you to stay back with the other girls, that it would be safer for you. But, even after all he done, to you and the others, you still cared for Josh. And you weren’t about to just leave him. Not now, when he was clearly so sick.

“Stop talking!” 

You wince as Mike shoves Josh to the ground, pulling unceremoniously on his tied wrists and he presses him against the snowy ground. “You are-- argh!”

“Dude--” Chris calls out.

“It’s not my fault you suckers can’t take a joke.”

“That wasn’t a joke, Josh,” you mumble, thought you’re not sure if he even really hears you.

Mike presses his knee into Josh’s back, eliciting a small yelp from the latter’s lips. “Oh, did I hurt you?” Mike taunts, still pointing the gun at his head. “Did you just... did you feel a little bit of pain? Right now? I am so... so, so sorry!”

“Stop it!”

Rushing forward, you grab Mike by the arm, pulling. It only knocks him back a little bit, and he turns to stare at you in disbelief. “Y/N, what are--”

“I understand you’re mad and hurt but... just please,” you whisper, “stop.”

“Y/N, he killed Jessica,” Mike explains, eyes lighting with anger at the memory. You frown as he explains, your chest twisting in guilt though you’re not exactly sure why. You didn’t do anything. You weren’t at fault. But yet, you still felt guilty. And even more so, you still felt the need to defend your boyfriend. “I mean, he fucking punching you in the face. Aren’t you mad?”

“Of course I am,” you explain, shaking your head as you scarcely avoid Josh’s gaze. “Just... just tie him up and stop. Please.”

You step back and Mike’s eyes wander on you for a moment longer before complying, standing up to help pull Josh against the nearest poll. Of course, Josh decides to speak. “Michael... man, i’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica but I swear, I swear to you I have no idea what happened to her...”

“Josh?” Chris calls, “be honest with me. Do you expect us to trust you for a single goddamn second after all the shit you put us through?”

Letting out a low chuckle, Josh head rolls as he mumbles out; “can’t we all just get along?”

-

Mike tried to convince you to go back with Chris. But, like before, you refused.

So, now, here you were, sat in front of Josh, not really sure what to say. Mike was stood by the entrance of the cabin, keeping his distance out of respect but you could feel his eyes wander over to you every few minutes just to make sure you were okay even if Josh’s hands were tied. You didn’t blame his mistrust of Josh, and part of you would like to say that Josh would never hurt you but after everything that’s happened... you weren’t so sure anymore.

He already had, first off. But Josh was also so far gone that you’ve never seen him this bad before. It was a sight you’ve never wanted to see either. And a sight you’d worked so hard to help prevent. All those months, those long nights you’d spent with him, trying to make him better. You wouldn’t change anything and you’d do it all again, you just thought... you thought if he’d gotten this bad he would come to you.

Instead of... this.

“Y/N.” Eyes falling shut at the sound of Josh’s voice, you hesitate on glancing up at him, heart pounding madly against your chest. “Y/N/N.”

Blinking, you glance up at him with a huff, shaking your head. “What, Josh?”

“Are you mad at me?”

You pause for a moment, wondering if he’d really just asked that. But then you take in the dazed expression on his face, the distant look in his eyes, and all you’ve heard. Standing there and listening as he made fun of his own best friend, teased him about Ashley after all he’d forced Chris and her to endure. Or to talk about Jessica like that, not only in front of you, but to Mike when she was... dead.

He was so clearly gone, you knew he didn’t really understand the severity of what he was doing.

Because the Josh you knew, the one you’d fallen in love with, wasn’t like this. And he never would’ve done this to his own friends if he was in the right state of mind.

That, you knew.

“No,” you sigh, “no, Josh, i’m not mad.”

He frowns, eyes drooping. “You look mad.”

Inhaling deeply, you let your head drop, the tip of your head resting on his forehead. “What have you done, Josh?” You whisper, voice faint, raspy. “You went too far.”

Josh doesn’t say anything. And after a moment, you dare to glance up at him, finding that he hadn’t looked away from you and instead, was just frowning down at you. The sight of it breaks your heart, even if you feel like it shouldn’t. You felt conflicted, stuck, because he’d done so many horrible things and said some too, but yet, as you looked at him; this broken-hearted, out-of-his-mind boy that you loved, your heart broke for him.

“It’ll be okay, Josh.” You soothe softly, even if you know it won’t. “We’ll figure it out.”

He nods and his lips part to speak, but the sound of a shrill scream echoes. It causes you to jump to your feet, spinning round to face Mike who quickly makes his way over to you. 

“What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Mike shakes his head. “It sounded like it came from the lodge.”

You eye Mike, frowning.

“We’ve gotta to check on everyone.”

Glancing back at Josh, you shake your head. “I can’t leave him.”

“Y/N--”

“You go,” you encourage, nodding at him. “I’ll be okay.”

Mike hesitates, his eyes narrowing in concern as he shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N. It’s not safe for you--”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure, cutting him off as you send him a sharp look. “I just can’t leave him, Mike. I’m sorry.”

Frowning, Mike’s shoulders fall. “Even after all he’s done?”

Glancing back at Josh, you sigh, shoulders falling.

“Even after all he’s done.”

-

Let me know what you thought?

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience. There is no smut this chapter. That will be the next Before chapter. I liked ending it on a cute note between Addy and Monty. Feedback is appreciated. 

Keeping my relationship with Montgomery was easier and more thrilling than I expected it to be. There were stolen kisses in alcoves, a seemingly endless string of text messages, dates disguised as studying, and a few more sleepovers than anticipated. My friends and family had yet to pick up on anything and we were going on a month and a half of dating. I wonder how long we can keep this up. Surely it won’t be much longer.

An unseasonably chilly Monday morning in early November, I woke up before my alarm and snuggled under the covers. I had just fallen asleep again when my alarm went off. Groaning, I sat up and crawled out of bed. I breezed through my morning routine and threw on a black knitted sweater with a pair of dark wash ripped jeans. I grabbed a t-shirt to throw in my bag in case it got hot without looking. My hair was thrown up into a messy, yet styled bun and my current daily makeup was applied.

My parents were enjoying their morning coffees at the island when I came downstairs. Noticing me, my mom sat up straighter and dad cleared his throat. Uh oh. “Morning.” I greeted, timidly.

“Morning sweetie.”

“Morning.”

“What’s going on?”

“Your father and I were just talking about this weekend.”

“Alright? Why did you clam up as soon as I walked into the room?”

“You know I have that conference in Chicago this weekend.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been on the calendar for months. What’s the big deal?” I asked, as I made my way around the kitchen getting my breakfast ready.

“I found out this morning that Dave has a family thing this weekend, so I have to go to Scottsdale in his place.” “Okay. You’ll both be out of town at the same time. What’s the big deal?”

“No need for tone Addison.” My dad scolded. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“It’s not a big deal at all Addy. It is just short notice is all.” Mom added.

“The usual rules apply, you know. No crazy parties. Only Justin is allowed over and he sleeps in the guestroom.”

“I assumed.” I nodded and looked at the clock on the wall. Finishing the last of my breakfast, I gathered my books, threw the shirt in my bag, and grabbed my car keys. “I’ll be home later than usual. I have an assignment to work on after school.”

“We will leave some dinner out for you. Have a good day at school.”

“Mhmm. Of course you will.” Dad muttered, checking his phone for the probably millionth time since he got up.

When I got to school, there was a strange buzz in the air. People were whispering amongst themselves. That in and of itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the way they died down when certain people-mainly girls-passed, was a dead giveaway. Nothing changed when I walked past which was fine by me. “Before you say anything, it wasn’t me.” Justin said as he slid next to me at my locker. I sighed.

“What wasn’t you?” I grumbled. I was still annoyed with him for the photo of Hannah that got sent around.

“The list.” He stated, shrugging, as though I would know what that meant. “And I know you’re still mad at me but Addy please. You know I wouldn’t send something like that around. You know how Bryce is.”

“I know. But you also didn’t do anything to stop it. What list?”

“I said I was sorry.”

I sighed heavily. “If I decide to let it go, will you tell me what the hell you are talking about?”

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly.

“Fine. I forgive you or let it go or whatever. Now what?”

“There’s this list going around. You aren’t on it but it like… rates girls.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah, why the tone of surprise? We go to Liberty High.”

I shrugged, knowing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “I’m not. It doesn’t make it okay though. Do you know who made it?”

“Rumour has it, it was Standall.” I shook my head in disbelief and closed my locker. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I smiled slightly, even though I was still horrified at the situation.

As stupid as the list is you’d still top mine.

That list is deplorable Montgomery.

Deplorable, huh? New vocab words?.

Yeah. I gotta head to class. Text you during break.

Sure thing. Everything okay?

Yeah. I’m just tired, no worries.

I locked my phone as we passed Justin’s friends, all clearly pouring over the list. I tried to ignore the slight sting in my chest as I heard Monty join in. I knew he had to play along to keep up appearances with his friends, but it still sucked having to listen to the bragging and hoopla of the group. I must have sighed aloud or something because Justin stopped me a few feet away.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah. It was just a long weekend is all.”

“Did you want to cut and talk? I know you aren’t thrilled with me or anything right now, but I’m still your best friend.”

I paused, thinking for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

We walked to a side exit and made it seem as though we were getting a forgotten book from my car.

After we checked that the coast was clear, I drove to Monet’s for a to go order and continued to our spot by the hiking trails overlooking town.

I took a long sip of my latte and stared out at the skyline. “Dad just frustrates me sometimes.” I stated.

“I know.”

“It’s like I’m only worth paying attention to when he needs something. Any other time, I doubt he would even know if I was there or not. Or if he wants to share his opinion on one of my life choices.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“No. Yes. I guess?” I shrugged. “This weekend mom and I were talking about college and what I would be interested in doing, nothing serious, just talking. And all of the sudden, dad comes in from his office and is all ‘that’s a waste of a degree’ and all this other crap. She tried to get him to let it go but he just wouldn’t hear it. Eventually she gave up to go work on her paper and he just went on and on. I know that it’s not what he imagined for me, but it’s what I want. And its not like we were being super serious about anything. I have time to change my mind still.”

“Well what were you guys saying?” “We were talking about what courses I could take that would be general enough to use for any major should I choose to switch and what courses would be a waste of time. I have two years to decide this stuff Justin. We were just talking and having girl time.”

“Of course he had an issue with that.” He muttered. “What happened after Margot left?”

“I was tired of him yelling at me and so I snapped. I called him out on his bull and told him it was all hypothetical at this point anyway so what does it even matter? He didn’t think it was appropriate to take that kind of tone with him. I told him where he could shove it and slammed my door on him. I ended up staying in my room all day yesterday.”

“Wow. He really needs to… I don’t know what. But whatever it is, he needs to do it.”

“Tell me about it. And then this morning, I found out that they’re both going away on business this weekend because Dave can’t make it, and he was acting like I was going to throw a ragger or something. You know, when he bothered to look up from his phone and acknowledge my existence.”

Justin shook his head. “I’m sorry Addy. It’s not like he would know if I came over and slept in your room though. Keep you company.”

I mulled it over for a while I was going to see if Montgomery wanted to come over. “Nah, I think I’ll be alright. It’s only a couple of days.” I checked my watch and noticed that first period was almost over. “We should get going, I have an assignment due next period.” Justin nodded and we silently gathered our things.

“I really am sorry about what happened with the photos.” Justin finally said as we walked back into school.

“I’m not the one you need to tell that to. But telling her is a decision that is in your hands.”

“I know. It’s just high school though. Not like anything serious will come of it.” He said, brushing the whole ordeal off. I shrugged, not really having an opinion. The bell rang and it just so happened that we were near one of Jessica Davis’ classes. I caught Justin’s eyes wandering her body and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t even say it, you creep.” I joked, immediately knowing what he was thinking.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything.” He shrugged, giving me that puppy dog look that he is convinced absolves him of all his sins. I shook my head and shoved him playfully. Before I could say anything else, I heard my name being called from up the hall.

Turning, I saw Jeff waving me over. “Addison. Hey, come over here for a minute. We need a girl’s perspective on something, and Leah is busy.” Perplexed, I turned Justin, who shrugged at me. I sighed as we made our way over to the small group of boys, gathered around Jeff’s locker. I nodded politely at Garrison and turned my attention to Jeff. “Yes Jeff?”

“My less… experienced friends here, seem to think that the list going around is just a joke. Something to be laughed at.”

Of course, this is about the damn list. Fucking Standall. I made brief eye contact with Monty and he raised his brow slightly. He looked intrigued. “Right. Well I can assure you that as a woman, if someone I was interested in or seeing, thought it was funny or meaningless, there would be much more talking and consideration on my part before any more… experience… were to occur.” I explained, choosing my words carefully. I watched discreetly as my words sank in and Monty’s face pinched ever so slightly.

“See? What did I tell you? Girls care about these things. Now why don’t you all run along and try to be decent human beings for another hour until lunch.” Jeff laughed.

“Ugh. I need to run. Don’t want my English assignment to be late. Later Justin. See you Jeff. Boys.”

Walking to lunch as I read a not school related novel, I was shocked when a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty classroom. I let out a quiet shriek reflexively. “Relax, it’s just me.” Monty said, letting me go.

I took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around me. “Hey.” I sighed against his chest.

“Missed seeing you this morning.”

“Me too. I had some stuff to do before school.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with the list? I thought you and Alex were friends.”

“No, it didn’t. And we aren’t friends necessarily. More like acquaintances. After this little stunt, I’m not sure I want to be friends with him.”

“That’s totally up to you Addison. How was your weekend?” Do I want to talk to him about it? Not really. At least not now.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“It was alright. Spent the weekend with Bryce.”

“Sounds like fun.” I murmured.

“His parents are in Cuba or Mexico or something.”

“Lovely.” Good for them. “That reminds me, my parents are both going to be out of town this weekend for work stuff. You can come over if you want?”

I looked up at him, watching him organize his schedule in his mind. “I’ll have to double check but I think I can come over after the game Friday.”

“Sounds good. Just let me know before Friday.” I gave him a hug and my phone vibrated in my front pocket.

“Damn Addy, what are you packing today? And why didn’t you lead with that when you asked about this weekend?” He joked, smirking jovially.

“It’s my phone you fiend.” I smirked back, rolling my eyes. I left the response in reference to this weekend open ended. You never know what might happen.

Checking my phone, I glanced at my texts. It was from Justin. Did you get locked in the bathroom or something? Where are you? “Shit, Justin wants to know where I am. I’ll see you in chem.” Had to ask Mr. David a question about this week’s reading and we got talking. I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry about saving me a seat, I need to talk some sense into Alex before he digs himself into a deeper hole.

Fair.

I walked up to Alex determined to give him a piece of my mind. I cleared my throat and he looked around, cutting Bryce off. “Addy. Hey, what’s up?” He asked nonchalantly. I arched my brow, hoping to convey my displeasure. You’re dealing with a boy here. Justin was watching me from his seat at the table. When we made eye contact, he seemed unsure if he should be standing up to stop this or if he should sit back and watch the show. I glanced towards the cafeteria door when Monty walked in, waltzing to his usual seat at the table. I felt myself becoming ballzier as the boy’s attention was caught.

“That was a really shitty thing to do Alex.”

“What was?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. The list.”

“You care enough to talk to me about it?”

“Awe, is the little bookworm upset she wasn’t included?” Bryce mocked. Justin’s head twitched towards him quickly, readying himself to step in.

“Shut the fuck up Walker. I’m not in the mood for your sexist bullshit today.” His and Alex’s eyes widened at my response, not used to me speaking my mind like that. “I’m not friends with Jessica or Hannah, but that doesn’t matter. And there were other girls on it. Comparing girls is a fucked up thing to do. I get you’re upset or whatever because of whatever happened between the three of you, but that kind of thing can ruin people’s lives.”

“It’s just a list Addison. It was for fun.”

“This time it was. It’s only fun until someone gets hurt. For your sake, I sincerely hope no one does.” Having said my piece, I turned and walked away. I noticed Tony Padilla watching the ordeal unfold with his boyfriend, Ryan Shaver. Nodding to them, I scanned the room for a place to sit. My eyes skipped over Hannah sitting by herself at the end of a table. They landed on Jeff sitting with Leah and Clay. I walked up to them and waved to sit.

“Hey Addy.” Clay greeted. I took the proffered seat and pulled out my chemistry textbook.

“Hey Clay. How goes the tutoring?”

“It goes.” Jeff responded.

“He’s more interested in Clay’s love life than the material.” Leah added.

“I see. Love life? What does the love life of Clay Jensen look like?”

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff smirked.

My eyebrows raised, impressed. “Justin says she’s sweet.”

“Justin is an ass.”

“He’s my best friend. And he’s not an ass. He’s just… selective about who he likes.”

“Addy, that’s polite for ‘he’s an ass’.” Clay responded, turning his attention back to Jeff. “Focus Jeff….” I tuned out the educational bits of what they were talking about, instead focusing on my own schoolwork. Justin texted me, breaking my concentration.

Bryce says you need to stop hurting his feelings.

Well tell Bryce and his tiny dick… I mean ego, he can grow up and if he didn’t say stupid shit, I wouldn’t have to. I looked up to watch his reaction. He ducked his head and bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Bryce tried to grab his phone to see what I said, but he slid it in his pocket quickly. I caught Monty quirk his brow at me and smiled softly at him. Pulling up his contact, I shot him a quick text. Don’t worry about it.

On my way to chemistry after lunch, I ran to the washroom to change quickly because I was starting to sweat. “Addy.” I vaguely heard a voice call behind me. I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things or not, so I ignored it. “Addison.” The voice called again. Again, I ignored it. “Yo. Hawthorne.” This time, it was much closer. I pulled out an earbud and looked to my left. Montgomery was walking beside me, trying to fall in step.

“Oh hey. Since when do you say ‘yo’ to me?”

“When I call you like four times and you don’t say anything.”

“Sorry, I was listening to a new album. Got a little too into it.” I turned to him again and he was scanning me appraisingly. “Hey. My eyes are up here buddy. Also I’m Justin’s friend so I don’t know what you think is going to come of you looking at me like that.” I chastised, noticing a couple of people stopping to watch us. When they looked away, I smiled at him brightly.

“Well I was thinking something along the lines of those little cookie sandwiches you make Justin all the time.”

I smirked. “Macarons? Try again in three months. Need to make sure you’re worth the effort of those delicious little hell circles.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” We arrived at our chem class and before he walked to his seat, he slipped in one more comment. “Nice shirt by the way.” I thought nothing of it until I was changing into my pyjamas that night. No wonder people were looking. Hopefully we don’t need damage control.

The rest of the week passed with few incidents. Hannah and Jess’ not talking was even more strict now. My dad was preoccupied with getting ready for his trip, so he left me alone for the most part. Monty and I continued as we had been, discussion of Monday and the list set aside for now. He had confirmed plans with me Wednesday night. I heard him confirm to Bryce that he had family coming to town this weekend, so he had to be home. I smirked into my book as I passed them. If Justin noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Friday morning, I was digging through my locker for my biology assignment, which had mysteriously disappeared from its place in my binder, when I felt someone beside me. “I told you Justin, I’m fine by myself this weekend. I’ll probably just watch SVU reruns or something.”

“Not Justin, but SVU doesn’t sound like a bad time.” Monty laughed. I jumped, not expecting him.

“Hi.” I said, still digging through my locker.

“What are you looking for?”

“My biology assignment. It’s due in like fifteen minutes and I can’t find it anywhere.” I heard him rummage through his bag briefly.

“You mean this biology assignment?”

I whipped my head around and frowned at him. In his hand, was my worksheet, slid neatly in a sheet protector. My frown softened and I looked at him questioningly. “Where did you find that?” He held it out to me.

“You left it on your desk in chemistry yesterday, so I grabbed it for you.” In my relief that my assignment wasn’t gone, I hugged him quickly.

“Thank you thank you thank you. You are literally a life saver right now.”

He chuckled before coughing slightly. “School.” He muttered to me.

“Shit yeah. Sorry.” I mumbled as I let go of him. “Justin isn’t making me go to the game, so is it okay if I skip it? I’ll make you congratulations dinner.”

“Sounds fair. What’s for dinner?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Depends what we have in the fridge. Also how do you feel about boardgames?”

“Love them as long as I’m not playing with Scott.”

“Last I checked, I’m not Scott so that’s good. I’ll see you at my place. You can finally have a proper tour of the house and see what it’s like coming in the front door.”

“Looking forward to it.”

After school, I checked what we had in the fridge. “Hmm… leftover lasagna, pork chops, ground something. Six different kinds of cheese.” Next was the pantry, “we have like eight different kinds of noodles. Could do mac and cheese.” Hey babe, how does mac and cheese sound?

That sounds good.

Okay. Good luck tonight. He didn’t respond so I went upstairs to change, after connecting my phone to the Bluetooth in the living room. “Hey Siri, play I Prevail playlist.”

“Okay, playing I Prevail playlist.” Instantly, the heavy sounds of guitar and bass riffs filled my home. I changed into the shirt I wore the other day and a pair of shorts, so I was comfortable for the night.

While dinner was cooking, I gathered a few boardgame options and an extra pillow for Montgomery, humming and singing softly to myself. He knocked on the door around seven. “It’s open.” I called from my place at the stove. He walked in and I could feel his eyes on my body, though I ignored it and the butterflies it caused in my stomach.

“I didn’t think you would like whatever this is. It’s also loud. Hear it outside loud.” He spoke into my ear, causing me to jump, yet again. He needs to stop doing that. I might buy him a bell for his birthday.

“Jeez. Hey Siri, pause music.” The music cut off. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. And there is no other way to listen to this.” I smirked mysteriously.

“Somehow I doubt that but okay Addy.” He kissed my cheek softly and I felt the dampness of his hair against my face.

“Please tell me that isn’t sweat.”

“I showered after the game. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” I caught him reaching out for the lid of the mac and cheese.

“Hot!” I exclaimed, reaching out to stop him. “I took it out of the oven like ten minutes ago and it’s cast iron.” He nodded.

“How’s about that tour?” He asked, patting my butt as he moved to step around me back to the island. I surprised him when my hips followed his hand as he pulled it away. Turning to watch him suck in a sharp breath, I giggled.

“Don’t be getting any ideas there, buddy.” He muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch. It sounded like something about “innocent” and “has no idea”. Before he could make any further comment, I clapped my hands together. “Tour. Starting here, I guess. This is the main floor.” I spread my arms, expositorily. Taking his hand, I led him back to the front door. “Front closet. Feel free to hang your coat up here or put it on this… lovely… piece of furniture Gran insisted we keep”, indicating towards the brown antique looking catch all bench that matched approximately zero of our other décor. “Lovely. Sure. That’s one word for it.” He chuckled.

“Mum asked Dad if we could keep it in the garage and only bring it back out the once a year Gran comes back stateside. The trouble is, this thing weighs like two hundred pounds because it’s all solid wood. It lives here because we aren’t doing that twice a year. This is the living room. We sit and watch TV here. The La-z-boy is off limits. Dad will know if someone sits in it before he steps in the house.”

“Noted.”

“You’ve seen the kitchen. Nothing too special here, except the fancy coffee machine we use on weekends or when company is here. Justin loves it. Dining room is there, we use it on holidays or when family is in town. And finally, the main floor powder room. Don’t think I need to explain much here. There is extra soap in the bottom drawer of the vanity.”

“Nice.” He smiled, looking around.

“Upstairs?”

“Lead the way m’lady.” I looked at him, my face melting into a confused frown. He shrugged at me.

“I have my own secrets Addy.” I nodded, leading him upstairs. The upstairs consists of a hallway with doors, so it was easy for me to point out the rooms. “Guest bathroom at the end of the hall-extra soap under the sink, same goes for my bathroom, guest room, office, my room, and my parents’ room is at the other end of the hall.” With the tour finished, we went back downstairs for dinner. We ate in comfortable silence, sneaking coy glances at each other.

“Ready to lose at Monopoly?” He asked, looking at the stack of games sitting on the coffee table.

“Ha! You wish.” We quickly set up the game and got comfortable in the living room. I grabbed the blanket off the couch and wrapped myself up in it. When I looked up, Montgomery was looking at me with the softest face I had ever seen him wear. “What?” I blushed.

“You look cozy. It’s cute.” He muttered. I smiled softly and ducked my head to hide my deepening blush.

“Shut up and pick a piece.”

“Ladies first.” I quickly grabbed Scottie Dog. He chose the race car and so began the most intense, hilarious game of Monopoly ever played. There was swearing left and right. We laughed at each other when we got crappy Chance cards. There may also have been some cheating, but we pretended not to notice if we caught it. Monty won unfortunately and I sulked for a minute before grabbing Ticket to Ride Europe. Again, it was intense and close until the final tally. He got longest route for ten extra points, smiling triumphantly to himself. That is, until we counted up cards and I had over a hundred more points. His smile dropped of his face immediately.

“What? How did you do that?” I handed him my cards.

“Many, many small routes I already had.”

“Mhmm.” He squeaked. After a few more games, we decided to call it a night and head up to bed.

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable Ch 25: Minimal Loss (S4E3)

[TW!!] Warnings: (This is the same content as found in the episode, so if you’ve seen it, don’t worry too much, but I find this one to deal with multiple sensitive topics at once, and I don’t gloss over it all, like I often do, so be careful) mentions of rape and pedophilia, depictions of torture, cults, murder-suicide

Ch 24 | Ch 26

A/N: Okay, so I’m four days late on posting this, but this is quite possibly the longest chapter I’ve posted, so hopefully that makes up for it?

~ ~ ~

Lydia’s family stayed for about a week, attached to Lydia at the hip the whole time. She loved her sister dearly and was glad to have some time with her father, but she could barely breathe by the time she was taking them to the airport. As she explained to Spencer, she was merely frustrated they didn’t give her any heads up.

Luckily, they left before her teaching schedule came back into full swing at the university. It was nice to get back into her routine and see some of her students and coworkers who were worried about her. She didn’t realize how close she’d gotten to the people there until the letters, phone calls, emails, and gifts started flooding in, telling her to take it easy and get back soon.

And then, in October, Hotch finally gave her a call for a case.

It was small, but she wanted to get out of her apartment so bad.

Hotch was sending Lydia and Prentiss to Colorado where there was a claim against a separation church leader raping young girls.

Spencer wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear Lydia was leaving, but the whole thing was fairly straight-forward: interview the kids, determine what they could about the cult itself, then see if there was reason to shut them down. Hotch knew that there wasn’t going to be any extraneous activity, so it was a perfect start to reintroducing Lydia to the field. Not to mention, she was very perceptive and a master manipulator.

“Tell us about the 911 call,” she said as she flipped through a file on the people of the church.

Emily was in the front seat with Nancy Lunde, from Child Protective Services. She was the head of the case and had the most prior knowledge on the group itself. “I believe the ‘he’ that they referred to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus.”

“Benjamin Cyrus,” Lydia mumbled, flipping to his page. “No criminal record. No record at all, really. I doubt it’s a real name. Correct me if I’m wrong, Emily, but Cyrus is a biblical name. A monarch. I’m seeing some subtle messages in there.”

“It translates to ‘sun’ in persian,” Emily agreed. “What else do you know about him?”

Lunde shook her head. “It’s rumored that he’s practicing polygamy and forced marriages,” she said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Any idea who the caller is?”

“Uh, Jessica Evanson is the one who the age fits, but… we can’t be sure. So I negotiated interviews with all the children. It wasn’t easy.”

“Well, considering their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI,” Emily explained and Lydia got to work on their covers. She took their guns, holsters, and badges, hiding them in the door of the car and handed Emily two fake IDs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.”

The Bureau had made them brand new drivers licences and CPS badges with Colorado addresses to complete their cover stories.

All too soon, they were approaching the front gate. The sign read ‘Liberty Church Ranch’ with a large cross beside it.

It was hot outside and Lydia could feel the dust coating her nose and throat as she exited the car, approaching a set of stairs leading up to the church.

“I’m looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus?” Lunde called to a figure on the steps.

“You found him.”

Cyrus wore a light flannel and jeans, with reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap. Lydia had to hold herself back from calling him out on framing the scene. Oh, look how kind and relaxed we are. Our leader sits outside and reads books all day blahblahblahbl-

Open mind, Lydia.

“I’m Nancy Lunde. We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.”

He got up and approached the three of them. “‘Savages they call us. ‘Cause our manners differ from theirs.’”

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus,” the red-headed woman huffed.

“Actually, that’s Benjamin Franklin,” he sneered.

Nancy ignored this, and began introducing them. “Emily Prentiss, Lydia Ambers. They’re child victim interview experts.”

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be the need to invent a job called child victim interview expert?” Cyrus wondered.

“We wish we didn’t have to be here,” Emily said.

“So do we. But you are welcome, nonetheless. The children are in the school as I indicated.”

“Thank you.”

Lydia nodded and followed Emily off to the school building.

~ ~ ~

Jessica Evanson was not the kid they were looking for. Lydia could tell the moment she walked into the interview room. She was completely calm, the perfect child. Her hair was neatly brushed back, her polo shirt well ironed, and her hands folded neatly in front of her.

Her mother, Kathy, stood beside her, petting her hair gently, as if to reassure her, but Jessica clearly didn’t need it. She wasn’t intimidated by their presence at all.

“We go to school. We do our chores. And we treat ourselves and each other with the respect God demands.”

Emily sat across from her, conducting the interview, and Lydia stood beside her.

“But you’ve never been off of the ranch?” Emily asked.

“I brought Jessie here when she was two,” Kathy explained.

Jessica clearly was not having any of this. “You’ve talked to lots of children in your work. Tell me, are their lives somehow better than ours?”

“We devote ourselves to God,” Kathy continued. “That doesn’t mean we’re not devoted to our children.”

“We are not here because of your religious beliefs,” Emily reasoned.

“Why are you here?” Jessica demanded.

She was starting to become hostile. She grew up in a cult that taught her to hate outsiders, so Lydia couldn’t blame her for her behavior. But her mother was clearly a peacemaker, so where did she learn it from? It wasn’t defiance from her family, because that would put her against the group, not for it.

“We received a phone call alleging that an adult male member of your church was having inappropriate relations with the younger women here.”

“You’re talking about Cyrus,” she responded, almost immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Emily asked.

Her mother immediately became defensive, trying to get her daughter to be quiet, but Jessica was still determined to make a point.

“Is it inappropriate for a husband to share a bed with his wife?”

Lydia’s eyes shot open. His what?

“You are married to Cyrus?” Emily spoke slowly, as if worried that the question would escalate the situation, but Jessica stayed proper in stance, if not in tongue.

“Yes. Cyrus is my husband and a prophet. It’s an honor to bear his children.”

It took everything in Lydia not to look disgusted by the thought and keep the interview going. “Jessica, you aren’t old enough to get married without parental consent.”

Emily nodded at the mother. “She gave consent.”

Before anyone could continue, a loud sound from outside got their attention. There was some yelling and suddenly Cyrus and a few other men were rushing in, machine guns in hand.

Lydia let her shock show on her face. Not just that they had the weapons, but that they would carry them around a school where CPS workers were present.

“Get up!” Cyrus demanded, turning on her and Emily. “Get up! Move!”

On the other side of the room, Nancy was entertaining the other kids. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.

“We just got a very strange phone call from a news reporter,” Cyrus began and a man walked around Emily and started to pat her down for weapons.

They were both unarmed, but Lydia was starting to regret that. These men were clearly threatened by their presence. What the hell had happened?

Another man walked around to check her and unceremoniously smacked her in the side, causing her to wince involuntarily. Cyrus clearly noticed this, but said nothing, continuing on with his point.

“Is there anything you want to tell me? About a raid, maybe?”

She and Emily exchanged a concerned look. A raid? They weren’t prepared for that. They had checked in with the state before joining child services to the ranch, there shouldn’t have been a raid on this church.

Luckily for them, Cyrus took their concern for fear and nodded. “They don’t know,” he determined. “Bring them along.”

A man grabbed Lydia’s arm and dragged her across the room, where another armed man was opening a hatch in the wall. A tunnel. A few guards went first, then they started ushering the people in. Women with their kids, Nancy, Emily, and Lydia all surrounded by machine guns, leaping into a dark hole underneath the church.

The passage underneath the buildings was too thin to walk side by side, so the guards let them go on by themselves.

“What’s going on?” Nancy whispered to the two FBI members ahead of her.

“We’re not sure yet,” Emily hissed. “Just stay calm.”

As they reached a large opening directly underneath the chapel, they could hear gunfire from above ground.

Prentiss pulled Lydia aside, trying to get as far away from the crowd as possible. “If this escalates, Cyrus is going to put this place on lockdown. The FBI is going to be in charge of negotiations as long as we’re inside. Do you know the Critical Incident Response Group handbook?”

Lydia shook her head quickly. God, it would be helpful if Spencer were here. He probably knew that book front and back. Lydia didn’t know what she was doing.

“Okay.” Emily fumbled, trying to determine what was important for Lydia to know before they had to revert back to their covers. “CIRG will bug all the windows and anything else they can get to. So, anything you need them to know, find a way to say it out loud. Keep the inside members talking. We won’t be able to know what the team already knows so tell them everything. If there are blinds on a window, they might be blocking the sound, so try and get them out of the way before speaking.”

“Best hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lydia argued, but the sound of the gunfire overhead was diminishing her hopes of getting out any time soon. She just hoped Spencer didn’t know what was going on.

At the sound of Cyrus’s voice, the two girls stepped away from one another, trying to blend in with the crowd.

“Alright! Move quietly! Quickly, go to the left! Everybody stay together!” he ordered, pushing his way through the room. “Children, listen to your parents. Have faith.”

“Where did these guns come from?” Emily whispered hurriedly and Lydia glanced around her to see what she was looking at.

Wooden crates lined the walls, each labelled as bullets or magazines. Leaning into the corners were more machine guns. Buckets of them.

“I thought Garcia checked with the state police to see if they were involved in…” Lydia trailed off, not sure how to frame the inquiry, but luckily Emily was on the same page.

“Someone lied to us. You don’t just lose track of these weapons, not when you’re already watching this group.”

“At least the raid is unrelated to the FBI,” Lydia reasoned. “Our cover is still intact. But you’re right… someone from the Colorado government just ruined their career. Once we’re back in Quantico, Hotch is going to lose his shit.”

Lunde approached the two of them once more. “This is ridiculous,” she sneered.

“It’s okay,” Emily tried again. “Just calm down.”

Cyrus continued to reassure his followers, telling them that God would look out for them as long as they stayed calm.

Once he had disappeared, Nancy was arguing with them once more. “It’s the state police. I’m an officer of the state.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“I can talk to him.”

“No!” Emily rushed after her but Nancy was already halfway through the crowd of people. “You can’t. It’s dangerous. Nancy, stop!”

The woman rushed out of the room and before the two of them could follow, one of the guards blocked their way. The other went after Nancy, but she was booking it back up to the ground level of the chapel.

Shit. This was starting to look… bad.

She stood next to Emily at the front of the group, anxiously waiting for the battle to cease, but the hail of bullets above them never slowed. After a minute or two, Cyrus came stumbling back down the stairs.

“Do not fear! We are on the side of the righteous.”

Behind him was the guard that went after Nancy, but no Nancy herself.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked him.

“It wasn’t us.”

“What?!” Lydia screeched, then quickly lowered her voice, seeing the attention she had attracted. “You can’t shoot it out with the cops! You have children here!”

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus argued back.

Emily was clearly distraught watching him reload his gun, then take off with the rest of the men to the roof.

“The BAU is coming,” she whispered.

~ ~ ~

“Reid!”

JJ’s voice reached Spencer from the center of the bullpen and he looked up from his email curiously. “Hm?”

Her eyes were on the TV she was in the process of starting up and he noticed that Morgan was also looking up at it intently. It lit up in the middle of a news report.

“...a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado child services-”

Colorado… that’s where Lydia and Prentiss were…

“-has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Separtarian Sect.”

Spencer jumped up, joining Morgan and JJ in the middle of the room, his mind still not coming to terms with what was happening.

“JJ,” Morgan breathed, standing up, his eyes not leaving the TV, “That’s not the ranch where Prentiss and Ambers-”

“They’re still inside,” she said, softly.

Spencer’s legs almost gave out underneath him.

“HOTCH!” Morgan screamed.

The unit chief was rushing out a moment later to see what was going on, but Spencer didn’t pay him any attention. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia? Where’s Lydia???

“...While no one knows for sure how many people are inside, it is believed that at least three of the child service members are still trapped within the compound.”

~ ~ ~

Spencer sat on the couch of the jet, his head in his hands, listening intently to the ongoing news report on Morgan’s laptop.

“...turned deadly when the Colorado state police officers tried to serve a warrant. Colorado Attorney General Jim Wells says the reclusive cult has been the subject of a 6-month weapons investigation.”

“Six months,” Morgan repeated. “We didn’t check?”

“No. We checked,” JJ argued. “I had ATF call Wells. He told ATF there were no pending state investigations. He lied.”

“Why?” Rossi demanded.

“Wells is challenging the governor in the next election. He thought that ATF was about to poach his big election-launching weapons bust,” JJ explained. “Now, it’s clear he didn’t know there were FBI agents there. He just thought the best time to serve a state warrant was when the kids were safe inside the school being interviewed.”

“Agent,” Spencer corrected quietly, his head finally lifting from his own grasp.

“What was that?” JJ asked.

“There aren’t ‘FBI agents’ in there. There’s only one.”

It seemed to slip everyone’s mind that Lydia wasn’t an agent. They looked around nervously, noticing the edge in Spencer’s voice as he corrected them. Hotch was the first one to speak up.

“Ambers may not be an agent, but she’s not a civilian, Reid. She can look out for herself.”

“The FBI only worries about their own,” Spencer hissed.

“She is one of our own,” Morgan fired back. “We’re going to get her out of there, just like Prentiss.”

“Just like all of the hostages,” Hotch continued.

Not wanting to argue more, Spencer nodded at him, then jumped up from his seat and walked to the back of the plane, unable to listen to any more. The media wouldn’t be able to tell him what he wanted to know, anyway.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ called as she approached him at the refreshment table. “I know you’re worried about Lydia, but we need your help on this case. You gotta stay focused, okay?”

“JJ, she’s in the middle of a deadly standoff and she’s still recovering from getting shot last May. Injured tissue takes months to repair itself and it’s going to take even longer for her to regain abdominal strength.”

“I’m sure that she’s safe inside the church with the other hostages.”

“Even if that’s true, I-” He shook his head. “I always seem to be away from her when she needs me most. When that bomb went off in Annandale, when Sonia had a stroke, when Frank got her… Why does it always feel like I can’t reach her?”

JJ sighed, contemplating his question. “I don’t know, Spence. I wish I did.”

~ ~ ~

Once the police had fallen back, Cyrus brought the two of them into a seperate room. Clearly he wasn’t sure how to deal with outsiders being barricaded in with his people. As him and his men tried to assess the damage done to the church and get people back inside, Emily was prepping Lydia for the worst.

“Don’t antagonize them,” she tried to reason. “I know you’re not a fan, but we need to know everything we can. They won’t tell you anything if they don’t think they can trust you.”

“There are two ways to find things out, Em.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was sprinkled with annoyance. Emily knew that Lydia tended to be very blunt. She didn’t need to worry about Cyrus killing Lydia when she was supposed to be helping the team get these people out.

“You keep Cyrus’s favor. But someone here doesn’t believe him, or else we wouldn’t have gotten that phone call. They’re going to seek us out.”

It wasn’t a terrible plan, she realized. One of them learn from the higher ups, the other speak to the underdogs. “You want to play two different sides?”

Lydia nodded. “For the time being.”

“Okay. That means we have to distance ourselves, though. Act unfamiliar with one another.”

“Brief me faster, then.”

She was on top of it from that point on. “The hostage negotiator’s job is to slowly get the women and children out. They want as few innocent people inside when they raid. But if they think anyone inside is in danger, they’ll come in, no matter what. We can speak to them through the mics on the windows, but they have no way of talking to us. So if we need to know anything, they’ll tell us through other means. Look out for signs from them. They’ll be listening to our every word…”

~ ~ ~

Hotch had put Rossi in charge of being the lead negotiator, in the hopes that he was both objective enough to not be blinded by his care for Prentiss and Ambers, but also knew them well enough to predict how they’d react while still inside.

Frankly, Spencer wasn’t sure he could do either. He hoped that Lydia would play it safe, but a part of him knew that she was just too impulsive.

The entire team gathered around as Rossi made his first call to the church, waiting to find out what happened to their friends.

“You killed my mommy and daddy. Are you going to kill me too?”

A kid. A little girl had answered the phone. It wasn’t surprising that Cyrus had set something like this up, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

“No one is going to kill you, honey,” Rossi said calmly.

Then, there was a shift. A new voice. “This is Benjamin Cyrus. Who am I talking to?”

“David Rossi. I’m an FBI agent. We sent the state police away. There’s just us and the local sheriff. All we wanna do is resolve this before anyone else gets hurt.”

“Then leave us alone.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Benjamin. One of the police bled out on the way to the hospital. So let’s just stop this before things get worse. Please, just put down your guns and come out.”

“We’re believers, Dave. We believe God says what he means and means what he says. His laws don’t depend on what state you live in.”

“I have no issue with your beliefs.”

“You don’t, but the state does.”

This was taking too long. Spencer needed to make sure they were okay. He needed to make sure Lydia was okay.

“I can’t answer for other people.”

“Oh, God will answer for everyone in the final battle I’ve foreseen.”

“That’s why I’m here. To make sure that this is not that battle.”

“We shall see.”

“Now, the three child service workers...” 

“One of them is dead.”

Everyone’s heads shot up. Dead. Dead…

“It wasn’t us.”

Rossi leaned away from the phone, trying to take in a deep breath before continuing. “I need a name to inform the family.”

“Her name was Nancy Lunde.”

The relief between them was almost a solid entity, letting their eyelids hang heavy as they realized neither of their friends had died. But someone had.

“Okay. Now, please, Benjamin, send out your wounded. I promise you they’ll be well taken care of.”

“With enough supplies we can tend to our own.”

“Okay. I need a few hours to put it together. I’ll bring them up myself at first light.”

With news that supplies was coming, Cyrus hung up the phone and the rest of the team was left to ponder what to do now.

~ ~ ~

Lydia and Emily didn’t know much about their situation until the next morning. Everyone was assembled in the chapel to pray. Cyrus had sent the two of them to the end of a row of chairs, trapped in by the wall. Not that there was any point in running anyway. There were men at all exits, guns at the ready.

A soft knocking came from the church entrance and to Lydia’s surprise, Cyrus opened the door. It was difficult to see at first, with all the armed men surrounding him, but after a moment of discussion, Lydia was able to make out Rossi walking through the front door, a box of bandages in his arms.

Despite everything Emily had told her, Lydia could feel a twist in her heart. The BAU was right outside. Spencer was here.

Dear lord, he was never going to let her leave their apartment again.

Lydia reminded herself to steady her facial expressions. Cyrus had no suspicions of their connection to the FBI yet and she wasn’t about to give him any. She silently prayed that whatever Rossi was bringing in was bugged, so that she wouldn’t have to make sure all the important dialogue happened by a window.

They took his supplies, patted him down, and then Cyrus walked him down the center isle. Lydia couldn’t make out much of their conversation, but it seemed like Rossi was trying to convince Cyrus to let some people go.

Their discussion took all of about 30 seconds, then Cyrus was ushering him back out the door. With Rossi gone, Cyrus started giving instructions to his right hand man, Cole, then indicated for Lydia and Emily to get up.

The two of them exchanged a look before standing and walking to the back of the chapel.

“We’re going to have communion,” Cyrus informed them. “Feel free to stand and watch for the time being.”

They nodded politely, noticing Cole at the front with a jug of wine and stacks of plastic cups. A few of the men went around, passing them out while Cyrus poured each person a sip of wine.

“We are celebrating,” he announced. “Everyone drinks. Everyone rejoices. Because today we are one day closer to being with Him.”

“Look at Jessica’s body language,” Emily whispered. “The way she looks at him.”

Lydia nodded. “She literally worships him. There’s no way she made that 911 call.”

“Trust in God with all your heart. Lean not on your own understandings. Trust in mine.”

As Cyrus kept talking, Kathy stood up and walked over to the row her daughter was sitting in, leaning over her and speaking quietly. Jessica tried multiple times to nod and turn her attention back to Cyrus, but her mother kept talking.

“Look at how she comes between Cyrus and her daughter,” Emily continued. “She’s inserted herself between them.”

“Acknowledge Him in all things and He will guide your way. Drink to acknowledge him and I will guide our way.”

Everyone lifted their cups together and followed Cyrus in raising it to their mouths. Men, women, and children alike drank the entirety of their share and watched him intently.

“We will be with him soon. We have drank the poison together.”

Lydia was almost too distracted by the audience's reactions to comprehend what this meant. Some seemed completely calm, maybe even relieved. While others gasped or looked around wildly. It was easy to see a line between the diehard believers and the… less-so believers.

“Mothers… Fathers… Children… Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we fear no evil. For thou art with us. And God will wipe the tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death nor sorrow nor crying. And there will be no more pain. For all of the former things have passed away.”

Some families grouped together, mothers holding tight to their kids. A few of the loners cried silently while the rest nodded to Cyrus in admiration. It was a wild array of people he’d collected.

“What do we do?” Emily hissed.

Lydia blinked, beginning to realize that the team was probably thinking the same thing. They wanted to save these people. If the bugs were working, they could hear Cyrus announce their imminent death.

“I don’t think he’s telling the truth,” Lydia admitted, looking Emily in the eyes.

She looked frantic. Her instinct to help was kicking in, but there was no way for her to act on it. “What makes you so sure?”

“Look at Cole.” She nodded up to the stage. “He’s writing in a notebook. I think Cyrus told him to make note of the people who had a bad reaction to the news.”

Emily’s gaze followed that of Lydia’s. At that point, both Cole and Cyrus were scanning the crowd. “They’re writing down the names of the people who are crying,” Emily realized.

“It’s a loyalty list,” Lydia finished out. “He wants to know who will follow him to the end.”

“Be still.” Cyrus’s voice broke through their conversation just in time to confirm their theories. “There was no poison. Instead a test of faith. Because your adversary, the Devil, walketh about as a roaring lion! Choosing whom he may devour. Watch each other for signs of weakness. You are your brother’s keeper.”

“What’s he going to do with those that the Devil has devoured?” Lydia asked slowly, but Emily shook her head, not ready to consider it yet.

~ ~ ~

“You exhausted yet?” Emily asked jokingly as the two of them lay up against the stone walls of the basement. Cyrus had brought the two of them back down there a few hours ago and left them on their own.

“You’ll excuse me if I didn't get much sleep last night,” Lydia shot back. “A cement bomb shelter isn’t exactly my idea of comfort.”

“No kidding.” She was on the opposite wall, one leg propped up on the wooden bench she had taken. “You should try to get some sleep now. We don’t know how long we’ll be here. I’d rather have you well rested when the raid starts.”

“I would try, but-”

They swiftly stopped their discussion as the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Cyrus was at the door and he looked pissed.

“Ambers. Stand up.”

Her and Emily shared a curious look, but she did as he said and got up from her bench.

“Lift up your shirt,” he ordered.

“What the hell?” she demanded, but Cyrus had already stepped between her and Emily, reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it up above her waist. “Hey! what are you-?”

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “Child interviewers don’t often get shot, do they?”

Lydia glanced down nervously at the bullet wound on her side. She had seen the weird look he gave her when his men had searched her and hit it painfully, but she never would have thought it would lead to blowing her cover.

“I don’t know why you…”

Dropping the front of her shirt, he reached up and grabbed a chunk of her hair, pulling her head back painfully. “We just got word that there was an undercover FBI agent in our midst. Care to explain that?”

Lydia hissed through gritted teeth. “What do you want?”

“You’re not CPS, are you?”

His grip was getting stronger by the minute. She didn’t like the idea of blowing her cover, but he already knew it was one of them. Might as well let him think it was only her.

“No. You were right,” she admitted. “I work for the FBI.”

Now, Lydia didn’t expect him to thank her for her honesty and let her go, but it still came as a shock when he walked off, while still holding her hair. Her feet were immediately yanked out from underneath her, not prepared enough to steady herself, but Cyrus just kept going, not deterred in the slightest by her weight.

Lydia groaned, her hands wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure, but it did very little. Luckily he didn’t take her very far, throwing her down on the ground inside a nearby supply closet.

“I told you not to put me in this position!”

She moved to look up at him, but he was faster, swinging an arm up to her chin and knocking her down onto her back. Upon her next attempt to stand, she received a swift kick in the stomach.

“Ugh.” Her left side lit on fire in an instant and she stayed on the ground, her arms and legs wrapping protectively around her abdomen.

“Get up!” Cyrus sneered.

He reached for one of her arms and pulled her to her feet. Lydia flinched away from him as he threw an arm above his head and brought it down against the side of her face. There was a mirror on the wall behind her which shattered as her right arm moved to steady herself.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.” As he said this, he held her still against the broken mirror so that she could see herself.

It wasn’t until she physically saw the blood dripping from her nose that she could taste its warmth on the edges of her mouth. The temple that he hit was tinged pink, but from the way it ached, Lydia knew it would be a dark purple by evening. And her right arm, which was still lodged in the remaining pieces of the mirror was staining the white sleeve of her shirt.

She shrieked as he threw her backwards again, running into the shelf of canned goods against the opposite wall.

The BAU is listening, she remembered. And Emily said that if they thought someone was in danger, they’d begin the raid.

They needed to prepare. They hadn’t gotten any of the children out yet. If the team could hear her and decided to come in prematurely, a lot of people would die. Lydia wasn’t about to let that happen.

There was a window towards the back of the closet she was in. She could only hope that Spencer was listening.

“Careful.” Her voice was shaky and unconvincing, but she made sure Cyrus saw the anger in her eyes. This message wasn’t for him. “Hit me too hard and everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles.”

“No one is going to care,” he replied calmly. “You came here to shut us down! I’m protecting them!”

“From me?” Her laugh came out almost maniacal with her bruised stomach and battered jaw. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“Pride comes before the fall.”

His next blow sent her into the metal shelf again, this time her skull ricocheting against one of the sides and knocking her to the floor. She was just able to see a few drops of blood land on the ground below her, though she couldn’t identify where exactly on her face they came from, before her arms shakily gave out and her cheek hit the cold cement.

She prayed silently to whoever may be listening that Spencer understood. She really hoped she didn’t face all that torment in vain.

~ ~ ~

“We’ve got audio!” Morgan called from across their tent set up.

Spencer ran as fast as he could to the panel controlling the microphone feedback, throwing on a set of headphones.

Hotch hadn’t let him do anything for the past day, claiming he was the most emotionally involved in the situation. And although he couldn’t argue with that fact, it killed him to sit and listen. Lydia was right there. She was in the building just over that hill. And he wasn’t allowed to see her, talk to her, call her, save her.

When the fact that an FBI agent was in the church hit the news, Spencer felt an anchor drop to the bottom of his stomach. She wasn’t even an agent. There was nothing to suggest Cyrus would target her. But his instincts screamed that Emily wouldn’t be the one in danger.

And unfortunately, he was right. When he set those headphones over his ears, he immediately recognized Lydia’s voice. She was moaning in pain.

“We gotta go in,” Hotch said, but Rossi stopped him from throwing off his headphones.

“We’d be risking the lives of everyone in there.”

“Get up!” Cyrus’s words were followed by a crashing noise, like glass shattering.

Please be okay. Please don’t let it be as bad as it sounds.

“Proverbs 20:30 tells us blows and wounds cleanse away evil.”

There was more struggling over the line and Spencer threw off his headphones, unable to bear it any more. She was in pain. He knew this would happen.

“How could you let this happen?” he demanded of Hotch. “We have to go in! She’s not-”

“Sh! Sh!” Rossi hissed, one hand over his earpiece, the other between the unit chief and the boy.

Both looked at him confused, but he just kept listening silently.

“Everyone will see the bruises on your knuckles,” he finally recited. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Spencer didn’t answer, but put his headphones back on swiftly.

“-protecting them!”

“From me?” Lydia’s laugh sounded more like a wail over the mic. “I’m fine! I got bruises on my knuckles too! I can take it!”

“She’s antagonizing him!” Morgan exclaimed, frustratedly.

“She’s not talking to him,” Rossi argued.

“Pride comes before the fall.”

There was one more grunt, then the line went quiet. When Spencer finally breathed in again, all eyes were on him.

“She gets bruises on her knuckles when she lets off steam on a case,” he explained quietly. “I always worry for her, but she says she’d rather hurt her hands for a little bit then do something rash or detrimental on a case.”

“So what she’s saying is-”

“Don’t come in,” he finished begrudgingly. “She’s telling us not to go in.”

~ ~ ~

Cole had to basically carry her to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Every breath was agony for her lungs and a violent sting for her nose and mouth. And she figured it was psychosomatic, but her bullet wound hurt as if she’d just been shot yet again.

Who would have thought this whole hostage thing could get ten times worse?

Cole tied her arms to the sides of the bed, though frankly, she didn’t think she’d have the abdominal strength to sit back up anyway. And she didn’t want to try.

Kathy Evanson came by with a washcloth to clean the blood away from her nose, mouth, and temple. She tried to warn Lydia against lying to Cyrus, to which Lydia snapped back, “Do you speak from personal experience?”

Kathy didn’t say another word before standing up and leaving. It was a clear sign that she was hiding something and Lydia could only hope Emily caught onto that too. ‘Cause Lydia… she wasn’t going anywhere fast.

Downstairs, Cyrus had pulled Emily into his office, using some of his only medical supplies to disinfect the tiny abrasions in his hand from his fight with Lydia.

“Did you know she was FBI?” he demanded, as Cole shut the door behind the three of them.

Emily quickly shook her head, but her heart was in her stomach with fear for Lydia. Lydia was strong. She could take a lot. But she was also far too defiant to make this easy on herself. Emily silently wished she’d been smart.

“Nancy told me the woman was a child abuse interview expert from Denver.” Emily hated to put the blame on someone else, but Cyrus couldn’t hurt Nancy anymore. Nancy was gone. Lydia was still here and if Emily made her sound worse, it could fuel Cyrus’s anger towards her. “In the 4 years I worked with her, Nancy had never lied to me before.”

“As far as you know,” Cyrus replied. “Their law says that a 15-year-old girl is a child. Fifty years ago, that same law said a 14-year-old was an adult. Have children changed so much in 50 years?”

No, but people have, Emily thought. It was frustrating. Hotch had chosen Lydia because she was so good at acting calm. At least… in the workplace. She could have any unsub they met trust her entirely, or keep them constantly on their toes. Now, Emily could act, but she couldn’t do that.

If anyone’s cover should have been blown, it should have been hers. Emily knew more about CIRG protocols. She could diffuse a situation. Acting like she wasn’t totally disgusted by Cyrus’s morals was not in her skill set.

“I think it’s a matter of trust. People have stopped believing that kids can make good decisions, they’ve stopped believing in selfless acts, and they stopped putting their trust and faith into God.”

Her appeal seemed to work. Cyrus looked intrigued. She hoped it would hold long enough to make a good argument in her favor. Now was the perfect time to build up Cyrus’s trust with the FBI, because he had brought in the medical supplies Rossi had given them. There was absolutely no way that the BAU wasn’t listening.

“On your next call, you should test them. Test the negotiator. Make him prove that he isn’t a liar.”

“How would you suggest I do that?”

“Ask for the identity of the FBI agent.”

Cole looked unamused. “No. We already know her identity.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but Cyrus beat her to it. “They don’t know that.”

“Yeah. But the FBI would never tell us.”

“They keep asking you to release people,” Emily argued. “Tell them you’ll release a kid and you won’t harm the agent. If they really care about the children, they’ll have to tell you.”

“You’re trying to get us to release a child!” Cole accused.

“It’s one kid! If they don’t hold up on their end of the deal, then you know they can’t be trusted!”

“She has a point,” Cyrus conceded much to Emily’s relief. “What is it, Christopher?”

Emily glanced over her shoulder to find Cole pacing the room.

“Some people have been talking about… leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah.”

Cyrus glanced at his hands. “Wake the baby. Let’s let them meet the orphan that they’ve made.”

~ ~ ~

Cole held onto Lydia’s shoulder’s firmly as he led her back to the chapel. She’d been dozing for most of the day, unable to move from her bed, so her ability to process the situation was hazy.

Cyrus had everyone gathered in the pews. “It has come to my attention that some of our brothers and sisters have lost their faith in God. That they no longer love us. They want to abandon us. So, when I call out your name, please stand.”

Cole left her leaning up against one of the back walls as he went to usher the last of the people in and that’s when Lydia noticed Emily eyeing her, slowly creeping closer and closer while still looking as if she was listening to Cyrus.

“He looks pissed,” Lydia whispered to her when she was close enough. “He’s choosing the people who failed the loyalty test.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all Emily could say.

“Em, I’m okay,” she snapped, more forcefully than she meant. She knew she wasn’t okay. “You need to stay focused and tell me what to do. What does this mean?”

Emily cleared her throat quietly. “He’s releasing these people, because he knows it’s over. He’s getting rid of any possible threat to his mass suicide plan. I’ll try and figure out when it is and get word to the team. Be ready. There’s going to be a raid tonight.”

~ ~ ~

“Drugging the food’s not an option because of the children,” Hotch was saying as they passed around tubs of fried chicken. “We have to go in.”

“Best time to hit ‘em is when they’re least mentally prepared,” Rossi added.

“3 AM.” All eyes turned on Reid. “Biorhythms are at their low point then.”

“Reid, I told you to stay with JJ,” Hotch argued, already on his way to lead Spencer out of the room, but he stood firm.

“Please let me help. I can’t just sit here and pray that she’s going to walk back out of there. I need to do something.”

There was a moment of silent tension between the two of them. Hotch didn’t want him to go. Technically, he shouldn’t let him go. But he didn’t have the time to argue, and Spencer would no doubt be helpful when it came to setting up this plan.

“The plan depends on Ambers and Prentiss separating the diehards from the followers,” Hotch continued, turning back to the group.

“And delaying Cyrus’s diehards from reacting to our assault,” Morgan said.

“No, that’s not my main concern. Ambers and Prentiss know what they need to do. I don’t know how to tell them when we’re coming. This whole thing hinges on them being ready for us at 3 AM.”

“Reid? What the hell are you doing?”

Hotch and Rossi followed Morgan’s gaze to the young genius who was covering the top of one of the food trays with red sharpie.

When he stepped back, the tray read, ‘New owners! New hours! Open ‘til 3 AM!’ The time was underlined multiple times.

“They’ll recognize my writing,” he promised. “Just write this on a few different plates so that there’s a better chance they’re near someone with a sign.”

“Let’s just hope it’s that easy,” Morgan grumbled.

~ ~ ~

Lydia watched curiously as Emily slipped into her room and carefully shut the door. She wasn’t sure how Emily had gotten away from Cyrus’s men, but she was positive something big was happening, else she wouldn’t have taken such a risk.

“3 AM,” she said, reaching the bed and helping Lydia sit up. “We need to get all the women and children down to the basement before 3.”

Lydia had no clue what time it was, only that the sky was completely dark and their time frame was getting shorter. “Find Kathy,” she told Emily. “I’m pretty sure she made that 911 call.”

“Pretty sure?”

“She’s hiding something,” Lydia admitted. “But no, I’m not positive that that’s it.”

The unease was more than a little scary, but there wasn’t much else for them to do. These people wouldn’t trust her or Emily. The only way to save them was to find someone they trusted.

“Stay here. I’ll be back for you before 3.”

“Don’t get caught.”

~ ~ ~

“They’re setting the place to blow up,” Kathy said as she ran into Lydia’s room.

Lydia’s heart fell. “Where’s Emily?” she demanded.

“I told Jessie that Cyrus wanted the two of them to gather the women and children. She’s leading them to the basement now,” she explained, untying the ropes on Lydia’s wrists.

Oh, thank god. Lydia thought for sure when Emily didn’t come back that she’d been caught.

“It’s 2:45. We’ve got to hurry.”

Kathy pulled Lydia along by her arm, Lydia’s other hand wrapped around her waist. Her entire torso burned as she ran down the stairs towards the basement. Almost out. This was almost over.

The sound of gunfire was muted through the walls and Lydia didn’t have time to place where it was coming from.

Get out. Get out.

As they were reaching the door, Lydia could see Emily leading the group into the basement.

“Let’s go! This way!”

“Let’s go, kids!”

“This building’s going to blow up!”

There was shouting in all directions. Lydia’s legs barely held her steady as she ran alongside Kathy. The only thing that was keeping her from passing out was Spencer. He was just outside. She needed to see him.

“Lydia!” She looked up as she passed through the door frame and found herself face to face with Morgan. She didn’t have time to open her mouth before he had pulled her into his shoulder. “I’m going to kill Cyrus.”

“You don’t have long,” she said, almost jokingly, but the timing was badly placed. Not a moment later, the ground and walls began to shake and a deafening sound filled the basement.

Everyone still inside hit the floor, protecting their heads from possible falling debris, but the ceiling was solid. Lydia had been through earthquakes before, and she’d survived an explosion, but this was somehow worse than both. She felt so claustrophobic she didn’t even try to breathe, out of fear she’d find herself unable too. For many seconds, she stayed on the floor, unable to tell if the rumbling had stopped.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She didn’t realize it was Emily who was talking until Morgan and Rossi were helping her off the ground. “That was the explosives. If Cyrus planned a second round, the basement might crumble too.”

The four of them made a run for the secret door in the school, Lydia now holding onto Rossi for support, so that Derek could lead the group and make sure the rest of the kids got out.

“How’s Spencer?” she asked as they climbed back into the school building.

“I imagine Hotch has got at least seven guys holding him down right now to keep him from running into the rubble to find you. How are you?”

Lydia didn’t want to answer that. Not only was she in a lot of physical pain, but after that explosion went off above her, her heart rate had been soaring.

Everyone’s eyes were on the smoking ruble that was the chapel, amazed by the destruction. Many kids were crying and women were no doubt waiting to see if their husbands had survived. Rossi kept pulling Lydia along, not letting her stop to watch. They walked through the barricade of armed men with ease.

“Lydia! Lydia!”

It was Spencer. He was looking for her. Lydia tried to yell back, but Rossi could tell she didn’t have it in her.

“I’ve got her, Reid!”

Not too long after, she saw her boyfriend pushing through the crowd, his eyes looking around frantically.

When their eyes met, it was like Lydia’s whole world muted to a dull roar. Three days. Three days she’d been trapped in that building, trying to reach the team and getting the shit kicked out of her. Three days she’d been quiet, accepting Cyrus’s blows. All to see him again.

She wanted to run to him, but she just didn’t have it in her. Luckily, he was eager enough for the both of them.

His arms were so tight around her that she felt like all her ribs would break at once and her nose was so deep in the side of his neck that the bruises burned. She couldn’t care less.

He pulled away all too fast and she was about to protest, when she realized why. As she looked up at him, a breeze hit her cheeks, making the wet trails going down her face apparent. She took in shuddering breaths.

She was crying.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say, the back of her hand reaching to wipe them away, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like they were gone. “Sorry, I can’t-”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her in front of the whole team. In front of everyone. He’d never done that before. PDA was a very rare thing for him. But all her shock died on her lips, suffocating between his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely moving an inch away. “I love you so very much. You don’t need to apologize for your tears.”

Such kind and affirming words should have quelled her tears, but she just sobbed harder. “I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me.”

Tags: @kris-stuff​, @wooya1224​, @bispences​, @anotherr-fine-mess​, @eddysocs​

[shineonmalcolmbright]

Shine On, Bright: Chapter Thirty-One

Table of Contents

Present

Colette’s still upset over Malcolm. Both the thoughts in her head and her words out loud match up. “Your boy’s been working my case this entire time?!” She has every right to be upset, too. Just Gil isn’t sure how to approach such anger while dealing with other issues--intuitions--at hand. Colette is looking all around shouting, “Where is Bright?”

The problem with the shining is always knowing when something isn’t right. Dani stands behind Colette looking from her to Gil as Colette continues to ask. “Where is Bright? WHERE IS HE?”

Truth is. . .none of them know. The way Dani’s staring at Gil, she makes it clear she realizes this is an absolute fact. Nobody knows where in the world is Malcolm Bright. Doesn’t take a mind reader to see that.

Yet Gil admits the truth out loud. The way Colette’s staring him down suggests she already knows. Some part of Gil is sure because she has inklings of the shining. Something she probably noticed or never really cared about. She knew it was a gift, but not the sort of gift. Gil huffs. “We. . .don’t know. . .”

Dani and JT are staring at him trying to stay as stoic as possible. To them, what’s their to fear? Malcolm Bright’s the kind of person you say no to and he yells back yes and does precisely what he shouldn’t.

Those three words pretty much shatter the moment and while there’s some distance between them and he has no idea where in the world Malcolm is, he’ll figure it out, he’s always been able to figure it out. Even when the moment seems too dark to make light of.

Come on, Bright. . .BRIGHT. . .! Dani, JT, and Colette are all staring at Gil as some minor fury builds up. Hard to say at what though. Is Malcolm at fault for just running off like that? Is it his fault for not being able to pinpoint Malcolm? Is it both or something else altogether? “I’ll-I’ll get a hold of him, just give me a moment.”

BRIGHT!

Malcolm’s shuffling his feet away from the world upstairs at the Watkins household. Matilda is humming along to some Christmas carol Malcolm can’t quite make out. There’s too much energy brimming inside of him. Too much to analyze and too much to think about and then his phone starts to buzz as he scoots back into the little dining room area. He’s looking at it to see Gil’s calling him but he rejects the call.

“No phones at the table, Mr. Man,” Matilda calls him out in such a sing-song way.

There's no comfort in that.

Malcolm pauses as he tucks his phone away. Owen is still sitting at the table no longer interested in the so-called meal Matilda prepared for them. Malcolm offers up his best smile the sort that probably screams, I hope they like me, whenever meeting parental units. He slowly sits back down unsure of what the next step should be. This would be a lot easier if he could sense more about Matilda instead she’s only darkness.

Matilda carries on letting Malcolm sit. She returns to her rambling, which is good, has to be good. “Now, John, he was a quiet boy. Very observant. Watchful.” There’s immense pride in this last word. She continues talking, “He spent hours in the garage with Benjamin.”

Only it’s hard to pay attention when your heart is beating too fast. Malcolm feels the iciness of anxiety expunges all possible thought from his mind. He’s reaching for a fork but there’s blood pooled up across the table. Even if they sat around eating rare steaks, it wouldn’t look this way. The blood’s almost black and on plastic covering it. Malcolm follows the trail only to find Owen leaning to the side, he’s all crooked in his seat. Of course, he’s not eating with his throat slit. He’s trying to speak, but there’s no more words coming out.

Just Matilda’s words fill the moment with Christmas carols serving as a backdrop. It’s easy to miss them, it’s easy to miss what she’s saying. Owen’s thoughts are fractured light. There’s broken memories and warnings unable to from as they spark and spark and spark in his mind.

“He was interested in the way things worked.”

Malcolm blurts, “John’s here.”

“JOHNNIE IS HOME?” Matilda chimes forgetting to continue with her dribbling words on whatever topic she rambled on about. Matilda hops from her seat. Her mind is like a cavern, you’re unsure to how deep it could go or what’s really down there. Something is. Something dangerous. Malcolm’s stuck watching Owen fade with his fracturing lights. “Just in time for pie!”

Malcolm snaps his attention back to Matilda. He’s still there at the table. He’s still next to Owen who’s dying. Bloods pooling across the table and Matilda’s full of joy. That much is clear. Nobody else tries to reach out to him. The doors not too far from where he sits, he can run out there but something about Matilda’s rambling captures his attention. Holds it more than the chance of escape. Garage.

The fracture lights go dark. Owen falls from his seat and Malcolm finds himself speaking up again. Close to some sobs. He didn’t like the man but that doesn’t mean he wants him to die. “No. . .No. . .!” Malcolm falls from his seat as well. His knees pop as they strike the ground and he’s grabbing onto Owen. “No. . .No. . .”

Matilda’s bouncing around, she lifts her chin and continues with her shouting. The sing-song nature of it underlies all of her words. “Jooohn, my dear! You forgot one.”

Blood’s smearing across Malcolm’s hands as he struggles to remind himself, it’s too late for Owen. He can’t stop the bleeding, the bleeding’s going to stop on its own now that he’s dead and gone. He’s barely looking at Matilda and registering her words. She knows. She knows. She knows. This isn’t-This isn’t. . .This isn’t what?

Even with Owen still dead and gone, Malcolm attempts to save his life. Anxiety is rearing its ugly head, his eyes bulge as he takes in the silence of Owen. With one of the napkins, he presses it into Owen’s neck like that’ll help, that’ll help save the dead. Some deep back thought laments, Gil’s going to be so mad. Not mad about Owen. Not made about ignoring his calls. But so mad at him for being-for being-for being so. . .

The napkin soaks up so much blood so fast. It’s everywhere really and Malcolm’s turning feeling his own anger tremble inside of him. His hands are shaking as he goes to face Matilda. Not just his hands. The forks and food left on the table tremble as well as ice in Matilda’s drink strikes one another creating a unique ringing sound.

“You-You knew! You called him!” You only have yourself to blame, a separate thought laments because it’s true, it’s true. He has only himself to blame for Owen’s death and Gil’s fury and now for his. . . Matilda snaps her full attention to Malcolm while he loses touch with Owen. Some of the Jesuses on the walls start to tremble as well. He’s even causing this world to quake in fear, but it’s quaking, it’s simmering, it’s about to splinter because of his own fear. “Where is he? Where is John?!”

“MY JOHNNIE! MY JOHNNIE TAKES OUT THE TRASH!”

Malcolm stays crouching there afraid to move because maybe he’ll cause something to physically break then there’s a bump outside. Some movement as well. Matilda quiets down and he spots a shadow moving across the window. Whoever it is--John--is out back. Garage. It gets Malcolm off the floor, he’s slowly rising up as everything around him shakes. A Jesus paint does crash to the floor. His doing. Nobody else's. The glass breaks.

“HERE JOHNNIE!” Matilda’s screaming so loud and Malcolm’s left half risen and spotting the gun Owen carried. He’d been proud (maybe that’s the wrong word) about it, too, like it’d save their lives. Malcolm takes it and knows what he needs to do. Run. Garage. “HE’S IN HERE! JOHN! HE’S IN HERE!”

Time to try. . .something. . .Malcolm goes to chase after a shadow as Matilda spits out more words. “He’s gonna get you.” She’s hissing and dangerous but doesn’t lash out. Doesn’t need to because John Watkins is.

Malcolm’s got a gun, he has a gun to protect himself as he runs to the door, slows down as he exits the house. Somewhere down the street normalcy continues. There’s Christmas lights strung along so many yards like the sky threw up on them, spewing stars out onto the ground. Somebody plays music loud and maybe they’re even outside even though it’s chilly. He can clearly hear their voices and laughter chatter. Music ties them closer together with such promise of holiday cheer and there’s a dead man so close to all of them.

God rest ye merry gentlemen. Let nothing you dismay.

The door almost hits Malcolm on the way out.

He holds up the weapon.

He tries to swallow some potential bravery, but his mouth is all dry.

Energy thrums through him. The building up of anxiety, stress, fear, and a whole lot of other emotions. All while people join in their casual Christmas carols and laughter.

Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day.

Somewhere out there, Gil’s still shouting for his attention like if he yells Bright even louder and louder Malcolm’ll hear him and respond. Like Malcolm isn’t responding. Another narrative is caught on the wind. All a sudden. It’s as if everybody Malcolm’s ever loved is fighting for brain space as he tries his best to focus, focus, focus on his present. Jessica’s out there thinking, Direct the narrative. And he wants her to know, he’s trying but he needs to focus as he approaches the garage that’s out back. Matilda’s inside and she’s laughing, there’s nothing for her to even fear. Ainsley is in shock, or at least, she will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.

Malcolm attempts to use the music as control. To save us from Satan’s pow’r.

But Satan has nothing to do about it. Malcolm almost loses his own breathing as he comes closer and closer. Somehow hearing Jessica louder than loud in his head as his mother pleads with some people. As you may know my husband. . . Louder than even Gil who hasn’t quite yet acted upon the fact he can’t get through to Malcolm.

. . .psychiatric hospital for killing twenty-three people, but I believe there were more. . .

Malcolm manages to inhale deeply, he can’t count the seconds or countdown to know he can accomplish something. He’s rounding a corner keeping his weapon trained and ready to fire, for protection.

Fear not then, said the Angel. Let nothing you affright. . .

Malcolm’s rounding to the back of this garage finding a door open. There’s some fallen tables out there. He looks at the ajar door almost falling out of time and back to the Overlook where Room 217 waited, it was always waiting for him. Behind him glass shatters and car alarms start blaring. Little garden figurines tumble over and he’s still present though, he’s still present, he’s still present and he’s staring at that open door.

Ainsley’s out there muttering to her own self not realizing how loud her own thoughts are. Maybe it’s just they’re all bound together and bound to another person, a shadow in their lives. You’ve got to be kidding. . .

Through some broken lawn ornaments, Malcolm walks closer and closer to that open door.

“J-J-John?”

If they met face-to-face, would he recognize the man as somebody he used to know? For somebody who’s haunted by so many memories, there’s so many he forgets. They’re drowned photographs, some of which are all because his own father is to blame.

“I-I know you’re here.”

It’s so dark inside the little garage out back, it’s looking fairly empty. Malcolm does his best to stay on edge, to stay present, he won’t fall out of time, and he won’t try and be with others. Instead, he’s here and now and he’ll stay here and now until Gil arrives to be angry at his mistakes of the night.

Something inside quakes, but so do Malcolm’s hands. He doesn’t spot anybody in there and almost lowers his weapon. But the quaking increases and a shadow burst forth and straight into him. John. . . Not that Malcolm can tell or has time to tell.

Malcolm's punched in the stomach and knocked off his feet.

The ground comes up so fast and it’s so cold. Not Overlook Hotel cold. But doesn’t matter, it still hurts.

It really hurts.

Malcolm chokes on a half sob-half grunt. Trying to bite back pain, Malcolm’s on the ground still and he’s-he’s-he’s feeling too lost to-to do. . .

He rolls his head to the side realizing John’s there, he kneels down from the shadows and a light in hand. Already John’s grumbling, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

He repositions his flashlight letting Malcolm get a better look. Drowned photographs all over again. Malcolm raises his head a bit trying to get too good of a look at John Watkins because he knows him, he knows that face, he knows him.

“Remember me?” John chuckles.

Malcolm’s looking at him, the wind’s still knocked out of him. He manages a whisper, a threat of sorts, “They’ll find you.” It’d be easy, too, he’d just need to reach Gil. . .

G. . .

John Watkins grabs Malcolm by the collar of his shirt and partially hoists him off the ground. Any intended thoughts stall. Malcolm stares at the man still recollecting some of a past life he forgot. Maybe memories don’t haunt him enough. John’s laughing at Malcolm’s come back, shaking his head, his grip tightens on Malcolm’s collar as if he’s going to strangle him.

“They’ll never find us where we’re going.”

_______________________

Emptiness.

Malcolm gawks at John with only a few clear words and by a few it’s two and those two are us and we’re.

Before he could ever manage any other life-saving technique, John punches him in the face. And just like that. . .Malcolm’s gone again, he’s falling back, and he’s not falling even out of time. He’s just. . .unconscious and a crumpled mess on the floor of the garage. John takes him by the ankles and tugs at Malcolm then drags him straight out of there to follow through with his own threat, They’ll never find us where we’re going.

###

Dani’s watching not much outside her car window. They’ve been driving around for how long now? Her heart feels a little swollen as bad thoughts keep chirping inside her mind. Worst-case scenarios all honing in on where in the world Malcolm Bright is. She tries once again to reach his cell. There’s a secret hope that they’ll laugh later about all the missed calls.

Her call goes to voicemail again and she flips her phone screen down on her leg so she can’t see it. Gil’s driving. The siren’s wailing letting people know there’s an emergency. Most people with emergencies know where to go.

“Bight’s still not picking up,” Dani whispers.

Gil’s trying not to look at her because 1. He’s driving and 2. He knows Malcolm’s not going to pick up. It’s as if the kid tumbled into a black hole. There once was Malcolm, a little blip of brightness out there he could find and now he’s just gone.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Gil mutters and he drives a little faster. They’re still directionless, but it eases his anxiety. Dani’s, too. The faster they go means they can keep on keeping on as soon as they figure out his whereabouts and speed to the rescue.

It wouldn’t be the first time Gil rushed in to save Malcolm, but that time, he heard Malcolm cry for help and he knew right where to find him. It was easy.

The Overlook.

###

Leave it to Malcolm to show up when he’s needed. All night long, Ainsley’s called Malcolm or text Malcolm only to come up with nothing. Leaving her alone to take long, long sips of wine and so does Jessica as they glare at one another at the dining table. It’s as if they’re in a drinking contest, see who could drink who under the table. But it’s more than that. There’s spite threading through the air around them and an empty seat for Malcolm. He’s not there when Ainsley needs him and Jessica needs him. Both of them need him to argue their very valid points. Looks like Christmas is going to be a silent night.

[doof-doofblog]

"She's Had An Accident!"

Friday 18th September 2020

Hello again folks! I am back again with another post today, this post will be following Friday's episode. I'm not 100% sure how I feel about the episode I'm about to watch. A little excited, and yet a little nervous. I'm excited because I know it's going to be a very powerful performance from both Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith, it's a very truthful, harrowing story that they're telling. But it's brave of EastEnders to be portraying such a sensitive subject.

I'm not going waste any of your time and just head straight into it. The episode starts with Chantelle and Gray arriving home from their holiday with the Taylor's, their house alarm is still blaring as Gray closes the front door and Chantelle tells her children to get themselves ready for bed. As Chantelle makes her way up the stairs, Gray switches off the alarm, she turns and looks at him, trying to vear him off the scent, she states that it doesn't appear that the house has been broken into. Everything is in its place, nothing has been taken.

Meanwhile, Kheerat is back at his family home. In front of him is Chantelle's memory box, he clearly was successful in doing the favour for her. I did fear he would get caught or something. He quickly shoves the memory box into a duffle bag, is going to try and perhaps run away with Chantelle? Is that what he's hoping for? Back at the house, Chantelle is saying "Goodnight" to her children, Gray watching from across the landing. She begins to explain to him that their daughter Mia is wanting her teddy from the car, is this another plan of perhaps leaving the house and getting away from him?! But before she can even begin to make her way down the stairs to leave, he instructs her to stay and to help him unpack their things.

Back at the holiday home, Karen and Mitch are sat on their own, Mitch appears to be reeling and replaying in his mind how Chantelle was acting, as if she didn't want to go with Gray, she was completely on the edge. Karen reminds Mitch that Chantelle loves her Dad, and if something was wrong, she would've said so. He decides to go for a walk and get some fresh air to clear his head, Karen tells him that if he decides to call Chantelle, to pass on her love.

At the Atkins home, Chantelle is making herself busy by sorting out the dishwasher, Gray is watching her from the shadows, he is watching her every move. He suddenly asks her what she's up to. The conversation seems to escalate pretty quick during this scene. It starts off quiet and Chantelle is going about her business and wanting to get ready for bed. Gray is stating that he wants to talk to her right now, it's only then that he shows her the poker chip that he found in her bag. Chantelle is visibly shocked to realise he has discovered it, but she tries her absolute best to pretend that she doesn't know a thing about it, even to say that one of her children might have got it from the arcade. But Gray is having none of her excuses - he begins shouting at her! "I KNOW!". He reveals to her that her heard her on the phone to Kheerat in the cafe, he's sussed out that he was the one who broke into the house. He asks her "What does "Cash In" mean?!" - he begins to get very angry, even asking Chantelle to tell him the truth otherwise he will hurt her. She's backed into a corner and begs him not to hurt her again, it's then she finally stands up for herself! "I'm leaving you!" she blurts out!

Gray is clearly shocked to hear what she's said, he can hardly believe it. Of course straight away he accuses her of having an affair with Kheerat, asking whether she's slept with him! Chantelle is doing her absolute best to finally tell Gray exactly how things have been in their marriage recently, she says to him that things between them haven't been right for a long time. She tells him straight, she's going to take her children and walk out the door and there is nothing Gray can do to stop her. This is the moment that really shocked me, Gray stated that he'd rather go into his children's bedroom and strangle his kids in their sleep than have her leave with them. I think that is one of the most darkest and evilest things a character has ever said in EastEnders! Chantelle is clearly shaken by his outburst, she begs him not to act upon his threat as he angrily heads towards the stairs.

It's then he mocks her, asking her how long she'd survive for without him. If she was to leave, she'd have no job and no money! Saying that she wouldn't be able to survive on just her part-time position at the salon. He starts insulting her, calling her a whore. He even states that if she even tries to divorce him, he'll be the one who'll look like the victim, he'll get all the money and all the sympathy he'll get everything! He demands her to apologise to him, he tries to portray himself as the doting husband saying he's not hard man and he'll give anyone a second chance! He instructs her to call Kheerat and tell him she's not interested, he grabs her phone from the table and see the message from him. He scoffs as he looks at the phone screen, "Oh - he's ready. He's waiting!" - Also can I just say how fantastic the visuals are in this episode, how the camera moves between the actors and how dark the background looks in the living room, with only the light from the kitchen shining around them, the whole atmosphere looks so dark and gripping.

Chantelle is reluctant to contact Kheerat, you can see she really doesn't want to what he's asking, but once again she feels trapped and thinks the only way she can keep him on side and stopping him from hurting her is to do as he asks. She calls Kheerat, the phone rings and rings and unfortunately Kheerat ends up missing the call by just mili-seconds! The call goes to voice mail and Gray instructs her to leave him a message. He stands and watches, listens to her telling Kheerat that she's changed her mind and that she loves Gray. As much as this is breaking her heart, she knows she has to do it. As she hangs up the call, he thanks her, but then there's that slight moment of doubt and he asks her "Did you mean it?" Chantelle realises needs to get Gray to believe what she's saying and doing, she tells him she loves him, he's her life! She reaches out to hold his hand and he responds, softly as her voice cracks she says to him "I need you!" - surely this will fool him and make him believe she's telling he truth?! He nods and he suggests they leave the unpacking until tomorrow and that they both head up to bed. Chantelle once again says to him to head up first and she'll be along after she's grabbed some water for them both. He tells he not to be long.

As Gray leaves the room, he hovers at the doorframe and listens to what Chantelle is getting up to. The sound of the fridge can be heard opening and the sound of the ice tray can be heard being smashed against the counter. He makes his way upstairs, in the kitchen, Chantelle is waiting for Gray to be out of sight, she panics and rushes to her luggage, franticly she searches for the other phone that Kheerat gave her. Hysterically she's calls Kheerat over and over again in desperation to get in touch with him, but each time she tries the call goes straight to voice mail. As Chantelle is doing this, right outside her front door Kheerat is seen listening to her voice message, half way through his phone goes dead. He looks down and he finds Mia's teddy bear at the stairs of the Atkins household - at the moment he looks up at the house, for a slight moment I am absolutely hoping and praying that he'll knock on the door, acting as the good Samaritan returning a child's toy, and yet somehow he'll manage to help Chantelle escape. But back in the kitchen, Chantelle is getting herself in a state as she struggles in desperation to get a hold of Kheerat, behind her we can see a shadow forming, Gray once again finds her panicking and asks what she's doing. He realises she's using another phone, he looks down at the suitcase and finds the wad of cash.

He begins to shout at her again, asking whether she was still planning on leaving him that night! Chantelle shouts back at him "Yes! Yes I am!" - you can see this is tearing her heart out, she doesn't want to be in his presence any minute longer. This is the moment we have all been waiting for, Chantelle is finally standing up for herself and telling Gray exactly what she thinks of him! The first time we've seen Chantelle shout at her husband, she tells him she has done everything she has wanted him to do, she has kept quiet like she thought a good wife should, but now what is to stop her from telling everyone the truth?! She's fallen out of love with Gray, he has beaten her black and blue over the years and she is not standing for it anymore! She's going get her children and leave! She shouts at him to get out of her way, and if he even thinks of stopping her she will scream the house down! As she is finally letting all her anger and despair out, Gray is just listening to his wife's words - "GET OUT OF MY WAY!" she yells at him! He shouts back at her that she is never going to leave and the only place she belongs is with him!

As he yells these words at his wife, she lashes out again and flings her backwards. As we see Chantelle falling backwards, the dishwasher door can be seen open. Chantelle lands flat on her back on a sharp knife that was pointed upwards in the dishwasher. Suddenly - silence, the realisation as to what has happened hits Gray instantly, his eyes are wide in deep shock. Chantelle's breaths are raspy, her eyes start to tear up as she tells him softly that she can't move. He instantly apologises and says he'll call an ambulance, but unfortunately the situation is interrupted by their child calling out for their Mummy! Gray goes to see his child, leaving Chantelle still lying on the dishwasher door. Being the doting Dad, Gray puts his children back to bed and tells them there is nothing for them to be scared of, he's here to protect them.

As he makes his way back downstairs to the kitchen, he tells Chantelle she's going to be fine. He reaches for his phone and begins to dial 999, only his sight is then drawn to the pile of money lying on the kitchen surface. I have no idea what's going on in Gray's mind right now, but he decides to not call the emergency services, as Chantelle is lying on the floor, slowly dying. He reaches for the cash and grabs the other mobile phone, he tells Chantelle not to move as he's going to find help. I actually can't believe he's just left his wife in the state she's in! As Gray leaves the house, everyone else on the Square is going about their business, totally unaware of what has happened behind closed doors. Kheerat can be seen making his way back inside his out, he and Gray miss each other by seconds! Music can be heard coming from the Queen Vic, locals can be heard chatting and laughing. Gray is slowly walking through the Square, taking everything in, bumping into Whitney and Kush as he walks around, they both have no idea what is playing on his mind.

It looks as if Gray is walking around in a daze, the events of what have just happened going over and over in his mind. He see him walk towards a bin and gets rid of the money. Is he going to be covering his tracks? Getting rid of evidence etc?! Eventually he finds his way into the Minute Mart, as if nothing is happened he goes to buy a pint of milk, although realising he's come out without any money! He says to Suki that he'll pay her double the following day. I geunielly can't believe that Gray isn't doing the right thing and calling for help. He makes his way into the Vic, downs almost half a pint and Kat eggs him on to join them in a game of darts. You can see he is eager to get home but as he's playing darts, sweat is visible on his forehead. As Chantelle is left lying on the kitchen floor, waiting for Gray to return, her phone begins to ring - you can see that it's her Dad trying to call her. Sadly she can't move to retrieve the call. Mitch is then seen leaving her a message, asking her if everything is okay and if there is anything she ever needs to talk to him about he'll always be there for her. It's absolutely devastatingly heart-breaking that the last thing he says in the voice message to his daughter is "I love you baby. You sleep tight!"

Next, Gray is staggering out the Vic, almost throwing up as he staggers up the stairs to his house. As he enters the house, there is absolute silence! Slowly he walks through the hall, he turns and slowly open to kitchen door only to reveal Chantelle's lifeless body lying there. Instantly you think he's too late, but suddenly her face twitches and she opens her eyes. Gray breaths a sigh of relief, she looks at him for one last time and closes her eyes. He head slowly slopes as she takes her final breath.

Gray checks her pulse and the realisation hits in and his breathes become heavy. Is going to make her death look like an accident? He takes one of his children's toys and places it on it's side, he then drops the bottle of milk and it smashes all over the floor, he kneels next to his dead wife shakes her leg. He starts to sob and sob, I think deep down he's putting on the devastated husband routine. He changes the phone and finally calls the emergency services, as he sobs down the phone he tells them that his wife has had an accident.

The screen then shows Chantelle's lifeless body and Gray continues to quietly sob. The picture fades to black and there is no Doof Doof, the credits begin to roll. I have to say, I think the ending was pretty fitting, it's true that this happens in people's home and there are victims who suffer in silence. Some who during lockdown have been murdered by the partners. This storyline was very harrowing to watch and with a devastating ending, but it's also a very important subject to portray. I can't applaud Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith enough for their portrayal as Chantelle and Gray Atkins in this storyline! It's devastating to see Chantelle pass away in such tragic and horrific circumstances, but I also can't applaud the script writes enough.

I hope anyone viewing this soap who is also suffering from domestic abuse will feel safe to speak out. Don't suffer in silence, please seek help! Thank you everyone! xXx

[jilyyall]

Animal Magnetism - Ch 2. Jacob Black.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 2. Jacob Black. Fanfiction.net / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

"Are there any cute boys in Forks?"

I made a face at my phone and had the benefit of watching my best friend Madison laugh at me. It was Friday, which made it a whole entire week since Renee and I had shipped out from Phoenix to Forks.

She clearly took my reaction to mean that there weren't any cute boys around but, in all honesty, a certain face came to mind at her question. Edward Cullen, who had looked ready to murder me at lunch on Monday, wasn't in school for the rest of the week. I was beginning to think he had transferred out, but I figured something like that wouldn't stay secret for long in a town this small. His siblings were all at school every day, sitting at that same lunch table. I knew because I had made a habit of checking. Purely for my own physical wellbeing, I tried to tell myself. Because I needed to know if I was going to have to spend Biology next to a boy who hated me for no reason.

In reality, I just wanted to see him. There was something about him… I looked at the eerily lifelike sketch of his face I had made on my Government syllabus on that first day. He was beautiful. He was alluring. Apparently, he wanted to kill me. I wanted only to see if that was true. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was just a normal boy who had gotten ill and left school early and was still recovering. His father was a doctor… maybe he was just a very thorough doctor.

"Hello? Bella?" Madison sang, drawing out the words in a pretty, taunting melody. "Don't tell me you're already crushing on someone."

"No!" I insisted, my face going bright red. "I was just thinking… there are a couple guys at school who I think like me."

"Nice. And which one will you be dating?" she asked.

"None of them!" I laughed just picturing it. "There's this guy named Mike… super boyish looks… blond hair, blue eyes… he's pretty popular. I don't know, maybe he's kind of cute… not my type. Anyway, this girl Jessica, I guess we're kind of friends now… she's half in love with him. He keeps walking me to class and going out of his way to talk to me and be on my team in Gym."

"Wow, he really does like you if he's willing to put himself in harm's way just to be near you," she snickered.

I ignored her, and quickly continued. "Every time he comes to talk to me, I bring the conversation around to Jess. If she's around, I try to just shove them together."

"Ultimate wing woman, as ever," Madison said with a giggle.

"Speaking of, how's Conner?" I asked. Conner was a good friend of mine back in Phoenix. His best friend Dylan was dating Alana, one of the girls we hung out with and at first they had tried to set me up with Conner, but there was nothing there but friendship. My last few months in Phoenix, I was working on getting Conner to ask out Madison, who thought he was really cute.

"Oh, you know… we're going out tomorrow," she said nonchalantly.

I gaped at her. "Wow. Way to bury the lead."

"I know! I've been choking it back ever since you called!" she squealed.

"When did he ask you?" I said.

"Yesterday!" Even if I couldn't hear the excitement in her voice, it was plain as day on her face. "I wanted to call you right away, but I decided to let it marinate."

"Wow," I said. "That's great."

"Bella, what's wrong?" Madison reined in her excitement with some effort, to study my face closely.

"I just miss you guys," I said with a weak smile. "I miss the sun."

"Even though it burns the crap out of you in three seconds?" She said, referencing the reason for my alabaster skin.

"It's better than being wet constantly," I grumbled.

"Well, at least it sounds like you're making friends!" Madison said, trying to cheer me up. "Hey, who's the other guy?"

My mind immediately went to my mysterious, handsome Biology lab partner, who I had yet to actually meet, but I knew she couldn't be talking about him. "What other guy?"

"You said there were two boys who liked you, but you only mentioned Mike," Madison said.

"Oh. Well, there's this other guy named Eric. We only have one class together, and lunch. He and Mike are friends… only the kind of friends who seem like they hate each other half the time? I don't even really sit near him in English, but he always tries to walk with me to class, and then he started sitting with us at lunch on Wednesday," I told her.

"Is he cute?" Madison asked.

"He's uh… Well, Eric is very… nice. He's a very nice guy," I said diplomatically, but Madison laughed, clearly understanding that I meant no, Eric is not cute. At least, not in my opinion.

"Bells!" Charlie called loudly up the stairs. "Billy and Jacob will be here soon!"

"Do you have to go?" Madison asked, pouting.

"I guess so. Sorry," I smiled sadly. "Dad's friend and his son are coming over."

"Ooh, cute son?" Madison asked.

"Mads!" I laughed, shaking my head. "There are more important things than cute boys!"

"That has yet to be proven," Madison said primly, then raised an expectant eyebrow. "Is he?"

"Um. I haven't seen Jacob Black since we were both kids, so how would I know?" I said, and then frowned. "I think he's only fifteen."

"What's two years, if the boy is cute?" Madison said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Bella!" Renee called.

"Go," Madison said. "I have to start getting ready anyway."

"I thought your date was tomorrow."

"It is," she said, and I could see that she was standing up from her bed now, starting to move around her room. "We're all going to that state fair tonight, remember?"

I did remember. It had originally been my idea to all go together as a group. Then my parents had sprung the move on me. I forced myself to smile by the time Madison turned her attention back to me.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Have fun!"

I could see by her frown that I hadn't fooled her. "Bella…"

"I should go before my parents yell at me again!" I said. "I'll talk to you later!"

With the click of a button, her face disappeared from my screen. Suddenly, I was feeling more depressed than ever about this move. All of my friends back in Phoenix were going off tonight to have fun at the fair that I had wanted to go to.

"Bella!" Renee called from just outside my door. "If you're not down here in five minutes…"

I tossed my phone on the bed and crossed my room to fling the door open before my mother could think of a suitable threat. It probably would have been another generic 'you will regret it' anyway.

"Oh, honey," she said, her expression fading from stern to sympathetic when she saw my face. "What happened?"

"We moved to Forks," I said, trying for deadpan, but even I could hear the slight venom in my tone. Knowing I should apologize and explain myself, but not really wanting to, I slipped past Renee and down the stairs.

Jacob Black, as it turned out, was a pretty cool kid. He lived with his dad, Billy, down in La Push on the Quileute Reservation. Billy was one of the tribe elders, and he was also Charlie's best friend. Apparently, they used to go fishing a lot, but as far as I could tell, this was the first time they had gotten together in a while.

Jacob was nice, and sweet, and effortlessly funny. He acted like we were old friends instead of two teens thrust together by their fathers. Really, we kind of were old friends, but when you hadn't seen a guy since we was eleven and you were thirteen and your clearest memory of him was the two of you making mud pies together, you could be forgiven for thinking the reunion could be a little awkward.

"Hey, Jacob?" I said.

We were washing dishes together after dinner while our parents were catching up in the living room with a few cans of beer.

"Yeah?" he asked.

He was two years younger than me, but he was maybe an inch or so taller than me, and his thick black hair about as long as mine and hung in a long, straight ponytail down his back; the end of it swished as he moved around the kitchen putting away dishes after I'd washed and he'd dried them.

"How come Billy and my dad haven't seen each other in a while?" I asked.

"Caught that, did you?" he said with an embarrassed laugh. He sighed and shook his head when I only nodded and watched him expectantly. "Well, it's kind of a weird story."

"I can handle weird," I said, more curious than ever.

"Ah. Well, have you met the Cullens yet?" he asked as he rearranged the dishes in a cabinet so that he could fit another bowl. "They're a family who moved here a couple years ago."

"Yeah, I know them. Well, sort of. I go to school with the kids," I said awkwardly, wondering why everything had to circle back to Edward Cullen. "Haven't actually met them yet."

"Well. There's this legend. Down on the Res," he said haltingly. "It's stupid, I'm not supposed to talk about it."

I saw that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were flushed and considered. Was this yet another boy who might like me? Or was this just a kid embarrassed by his tribe's superstition?

"I can keep a secret," I said, trying for the flirtatious tone that Sasha, a friend of Madison's, used often to get boys to do her bidding. It sounded awkward on my lips, forced and unnatural and horribly fake, but Jacob turned to me with slightly wide eyes. I looked back down at what my hands were doing in the soapy water, partly to hide my face from Jacob and also partly so that I didn't accidentally cut myself or break anything.

"Okay, well… the Cullens just don't have a very good reputation down on the Res," he said carefully. I could tell he was leaving something out, but I didn't trust myself to be able to pull off that flirtatious tone again. "People think they're strange."

"Well, can't argue with that," I said quietly. I dried my hands when I was finished washing the dishes, and leaned against the counter to watch Jacob finish drying and putting them away. "But what does that have to do with Billy and my dad?"

"Well, I guess my dad warned Charlie about them," Jacob said slowly, and I got the feeling he was measuring each word carefully. "Said they might be dangerous, and that he ought to keep an eye on them."

"Are they dangerous?" I whispered, thinking of Edward's murderous black glare and unprovoked hatred.

Jacob shrugged and shot me a pained grimace. "I don't know, Bella. Not in Charlie's opinion, and he's police chief, so it's his job to know if someone's dangerous."

"Jake, you ready to go?" Billy said from the doorway. I could tell by the way he was looking at us from his wheelchair that he had heard enough of our conversation to think his son had already said too much.

"Sure, sure," Jacob said, hurriedly putting away the last plate. I could see that he knew his father had caught him, but he didn't seem too worried about it as he smiled at me and said goodnight.

"Don't be a stranger, Billy," Renee said, leaning into Charlie's side when he wrapped his arm around her on the front porch. "And you, Jacob. You're welcome over for dinner anytime."

"Thanks, Mrs. Swan," Jacob grinned.

"Renee," she corrected.

"Careful what you offer. Jake here could eat a whole horse," Billy warned as Jacob lifted him into the passenger's seat with more ease than any fifteen year-old should, and folded up his wheelchair to stow in the back of the car. Charlie pretended not to notice when Jacob climbed in behind the steering wheel.

"Yeah, well, maybe Jake needs to be careful too," Charlie joked. "Renee has a knack for making some really inedible meals."

I smirked at that, and Renee elbowed him in the side with a scoff. He was right; Renee couldn't cook to save her life. Jacob and Billy only laughed and drove away as we waved them off.

The weekend passed slowly. Renee and Charlie went into town to look at a few properties to rent that Renee could use as an art studio on Saturday because there wasn't any room in our house for her to work. I spent much of the day texting my friends in Phoenix, and catching up on some reading for English. On Sunday, I woke up to a phone call from Madison, who wanted to walk me through her date with Conner. She went over every minute detail of the night, from her outfit to the cologne he was wearing, to the nervous kind of smile he sent her as he walked her to her door, right before he kissed her. After she finally let me off the phone, I texted Conner to congratulate him on finally taking my advice, and got back an emoji rolling his eyes in response.

And on Sunday afternoon, I headed out to the porch to see what the commotion was when I heard a monstrous rumbling outside. There, in the driveway sat a behemoth of a truck. It was red and solidly built, and in the driver's seat was Jacob Black. He jumped out quickly, probably so that Charlie couldn't actually see him behind the wheel again, though it was pretty clear who had driven as he went to retrieve the wheelchair from the bed of the truck and helped his dad out of the passenger's seat.

"Hey, Jacob, Billy. What's up?" I asked as my parents came to the door behind me.

"Bella," Charlie said, and he sounded excited. I glanced back at him over my shoulder to see him grinning at me. "This is your new truck."

"Loose interpretation of the word 'new,' Charlie," Jacob said, laughing, probably at the look of disbelief on my face.

He wasn't wrong. The truck was ancient, probably older than I was, and the paint job was nonexistent. It was red, sure, but so faded and uneven that it was almost pink in some spots, and a very light almost orange in others. And boy was it loud, but I didn't really care. It was a truck, and it was mine. It meant that I didn't have to get Renee to drive me to and from school every day, and I would never have to be dropped off in Charlie's police cruiser.

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You bought it for me?"

I knew that this was just one more thing to mark how permanent this move was, but I couldn't help but be excited. It would be nice to be able to drive myself to school every day. And I could go into town whenever I wanted, if I ever wanted. I could go to the grocery store for myself. I could even drive up to Seattle, just to get away from Forks for a day.

"Yes, Bella, it's yours," Renee said. When I turned around, she was beaming and I knew it was because it was the first time she'd seen me smile since we came to Forks. I didn't think twice as I hugged my parents, thanking them profusely, before I ran down the walkway to inspect. I slipped when my foot hit the concrete and Jacob caught me, very gallantly deciding not to tease me as he began to give me a tour of the truck.

Before they left to head back to the Reservation with Charlie in his cruiser, Jacob warned me not take the truck over fifty. When I laughed, he told me he was serious.

"I rebuilt that engine. It's sturdy, but it will die if you drive over fifty," he reiterated.

"Good thing I know a good mechanic," I told him, and pretended to ignore his pleased flush.

On Monday, I drove my new truck to school, high on the freedom of being alone. I parked in front of a silver Volvo, by far the nicest car in the lot, and hopped cheerfully out of my truck. I wasn't even annoyed when Mike and Eric both walked with me to English, and joined in on their conversation about the weekend.

The day was smooth sailing until lunch.

I had just sat down with my tray of food at my usual table with all of my new friends when Jessica leaned over, her face right in front of Mike's, to hiss at me.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you."

I paused, my bottle of water halfway to my lips, and felt terror clawing in the pit of my stomach. "What?"

"He is," Mike confirmed, frowning. "I wonder why."

I was too much a coward to look, to confirm that he was back. After an entire week, I had gotten used to his absence. It was an absurd thing, really, to be used to the absence of someone I hadn't even met. But I knew who he was, and I knew that for some reason I couldn't grasp, he hated me. Fervently.

"Does he look mad?" I whispered.

Mike and Jessica gave me twin odd looks.

"No," Mike said slowly.

"Should he?" Jessica asked with a small, confused giggle. "I mean, how badly could you have offended him? You never even met him."

"Oh, yeah," Mike said. "He was out all last week. He's probably curious about the new girl."

His grin was teasing, and he waggled his eyebrows at me so I rolled my eyes if only because I knew I should react in some way.

"He's still staring," Jessica informed us a few minutes later.

Mike went sullen again, and stopped in the middle of what I was sure was an inflated story about the last time he went surfing. When he looked in the direction of the table I knew the Cullens occupied every day, I rammed an elbow in his side none-too-gently.

"Stop looking at him!" I hissed at them both.

Jessica giggled at my reaction, but did as I asked, her gaze dropping to the table. Mike frowned, clearly not liking that another boy was giving me attention, or that I was so affected by it. I saw the moment Jessica noticed Mike's mood: the smirk slid off her face and she propped her chin up on her fist as she pushed a pile of corn indolently around her plate.

I sighed, and pushed back my chair. I didn't have the energy for this. "I'll see you guys later," I said, and walked away.

I was dreading going to Biology and having to endure the most uncomfortable hour of my life with Edward Cullen for a lab partner. Idly, I wandered the school. Lunch had only just begun, so I had a lot of time to kill. I stopped when I came to a building I'd never been in. I didn't have any classes in Building two; I didn't even know what kind of classes were held here.

Curious, I pushed open the door and walked down the hall. I peeked in the door of the first room I passed and saw a few easels set up with paint still drying on canvas. So this building held art classes. It was comforting in a way, to be surrounded by all of the things that used to litter Renee's cramped little in-home studio back in Phoenix. I walked a little further down the hall until I came to another door. Peering inside, I was surprised to find that this was clearly the music classroom.

There was a piano in the front of the room, and several guitars and other various instruments in cases I couldn't identify. I was surprised that Forks High offered music classes; it seemed like a small town high school with only four hundred students wouldn't be the type of school to support the arts.

I stepped inside, cautiously glancing around to make sure there was no one in the room, and walked to the piano. I couldn't play very well. Aside from the embarrassingly basic Happy Birthday to You and Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, I only knew how to play a few notes. My mother enrolled me in classes back in Reno when I was about eight or nine. I made it through four lessons before I threw such a tantrum that she caved and allowed me to quit. She played a bit, but not very well. Better than me, at least. It was something that calmed her busy mind, she'd told me once. She bought a cheap, used upright when I was ten and used to sit and play poorly at night. I would tease her for her clumsy mishaps, but secretly I enjoyed sitting and listening to her play.

I sat on the bench and laid my fingers on the keys, splayed out as if I actually knew what I was doing. Quietly, I laughed to myself. What was I going to do? Play Happy Birthday? I shook my head and let my fingers smash a few keys at random, discordant notes filling the room for a split second.

A movement caught my eye and I looked up, embarrassed, ready to apologize to some teacher I hadn't met yet.

And my heart began to race when I saw him.

There, in the doorway was the bronze-haired boy from last week. Edward Cullen. I stared at him, wide-eyed, terrified, waiting to see that inexplicable hatred on his face. He stepped into the room, looked around cautiously and kept a safe distance between us. He didn't look angry. He looked confused and almost concerned.

"Hello," he said slowly. His voice was velvet on the air, soft and smooth and luxurious and as melodic as anything I'd ever heard.

Wordless, too afraid to speak, I nodded.

"I apologize. Am I interrupting?" He asked, standing rigid against the wall as far from me as he could be in this room. His guarded, almost pained expression did not match his dulcet tone.

"No," I said slowly, wondering why he was behaving so strangely.

He nodded his head and took several slow steps into the room, towards the piano and me. He looked poised to turn and flee even as he came to a halt so close to the piano that he could reach out and stroke the propped-up cover if he felt like.

The sudden return of my tension that his presence had wrought made me uncomfortable. I was sure my heart had never raced so fast. I was impossibly aware of every small movement of his body. I realized I was holding my breath, so forced myself to exhale. When I cleared my throat, he looked at me like he was concentrating really hard.

"I was just leaving," I lied.

His expression was almost completely neutral, but I sensed just the slightest edge of frustration in his gaze as he studied me. Finally, one corner of his mouth turned up, just slightly, as if he was forcing himself to smile at me. Heart pounding and hands trembling slightly, and trying to pretend I was completely unaffected by his presence, I stood, then bent to pick up the bag I'd dropped at my feet.

"Goodbye, Bella," he said as I walked carefully past him, willing myself not to trip over my own feet. I paused at the door and glanced over my shoulder. How did he know my name? Probably, I reasoned internally, he'd heard it from a classmate. He was already seated on the bench, right where I had just been, and his fingers began to move across the keys, slowly, tenderly, coaxing the most beautiful notes I had ever heard.

I looked at his face, wondering what I would see there. With a jolt, I realized he was watching me as he played, a small, accomplished smile on his lips. Flushing, I smiled weakly, and walked away.

FFN / AO3

[crimefightingspiderguy]

the little green monster

Summary: “They have kids and one day at the parent-teacher meeting A lot of people (you know some thirsty hormonal teens or teacher lol ) trying to flirt with the reader that same day. At first, Steve is cool about it and it doesn’t really bother him. But at the end of the day, he snapped and gets angry haha bonus if they don’t really know the reader is actually a mother” (REQUESTED BY @vesta-ro )

Warnings: none that I can think of?

Pairing: dad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1,232

A/N: I hope this is what you’re looking for! Let me know what you think, feedback is always welcome!

     “Hello?” (Y/N) said, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker as she continued running around the house. She was currently trying to get the butter knife out of her 4-year-olds hands as she ran away from the dinner table with it. “Hi, Mrs. Rogers? This is Mr. Andrew, I’m Jessica Rogers principal. She seems to have gotten into a fight with another kid on the playground and we need either you or Mr. Rogers to come in and pick her up.” (Y/N) finally swooped down and grabbed her youngest kid James, pulling the knife away from him. With a sigh she said, “Alright, I’ll be down in a minute.” and hung up the phone. “You’ve been spending too much time with your uncle Bucky.” She said to James as she put the knife in the sink, and he giggled at her. “Steve!” She called out. After about a minute, Steve came from the next room, “What’s up?” “Jessica’s principle just called and she is in trouble for getting in a fight. One of us needs to go and pick her up.” (Y/N) said, putting James down and letting him run to his toys. “I just finished cleaning up the play-room, so if you’re not busy, we can both go. Have a little chat with her together.” “What do we do with James?” “We’ll bring him and leave him with the secretary, she absolutely adores him. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind hanging out with him for a couple minutes.” She nodded, agreeing, “James, you wanna go for a little drive?” He excitedly shot up and ran over to the door, pulling on his little boots. 

     Steve was right in thinking that the secretary would gladly watch James. In fact, as soon as they got there, she asked how he was doing. “Well, we were actually wondering if you could watch him for a couple minutes while we go chat with the principal and Jessica?” (Y/N) asked, “I’d be glad too!” She said excitedly as she held her arms out to take James from them. They went behind the secretaries desk to Principal Andrew’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in!” Mr. Andrew yelled from inside. Steve opened the door for (Y/N) and they walked in to see Jessica and another kid sitting next to her with an ice pack covering his eye. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, glad you could both join us. We’ve been having some issues lately regarding Jessica’s behavior, but this is the worst it’s gotten. I’m afraid that we’re going to have to suspend her for 3 days.” “Well just hold on a minute, what exactly happened?” (Y/N) asked. “Everyday Tim picks on me, and I finally had enough and I gave him a taste of his own medicine!” Jessica explained, sticking her tongue out at Tim. “So she was sticking up for herself, I don’t really see how that calls for suspension?” Steve said, trying to stand up for his daughter. “Mr. Rogers, we will not tolerate violence at this school, no matter the reasoning.” Mr. Andrew butted in. “But you’ll tolerate bullying? Will Tim here also be getting in trouble for bullying Jessica?” Steve pressed. Mr. Andrew gave a look showing how uncomfortable he was. It was one thing to argue with a student’s parent about their punishment, but to argue with Captain America was a whole new kind of intimidating. “Look, I understand your concern Mr. Rogers, but Tim’s punishment is none of your concern. His punishment is between him, his parents, and myself. I asked you here to talk about Jessica, not Tim.” Steve was about to say something else, but pulled back when (Y/N) put a hand on his chest telling him to back down. “We understand Mr. Andrew. Jessica shouldn’t have hit Tim, instead, she should’ve reported the bullying to you so you could handle it… more maturely. You’ll have to excuse my husband for over-stepping. He is known for standing up for the little guy after all.” She chuckled, trying to defuse the tension between Mr. Andrew and Steve. 

     “Well, thank you for that Mrs. Rogers. I always enjoy when you come to see me. Too bad it has to happen under such circumstances as this. I’ve already filled out the paperwork for Jessica’s punishment, so if you could just sign here…” Both Steve and (Y/N) take turns signing the paper. “Great! You’re free to take Jessica. Her suspension will end in 3 days time, after which she is free to return to her normal class schedule. Her homework that she missed each day will be at the front desk, waiting for her to pick it up. I hope you two have a great rest of your day, I look forward to seeing you again Mrs. Rogers.” Mr. Andrews got up and gave (Y/N) a hug. She wasn’t expecting it and so it was a bit too long and awkward. “Mr. Rogers.” Mr. Andrew pulled away and put his hand out to shake Steve’s hand, but Steve just glared at him and said, “Jessica, let’s go before someone else in this room ends up with a black eye.” 

     The car ride home was silent, but (Y/N) was sure that any moment Steve was going to explode. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were white. Steve wasn’t always the jealous type, but every once in a while, whatever happened would get to him and he would snap. “Jessica, could you take James inside? There’s some chocolate milk that I got earlier in the fridge. Pour both of you some, alright sweetie?” (Y/N) said, turning around and smiling at the kids. Jessica nodded and helped her brother out of the car. Once they were in the house, (Y/N) turned to Steve and said, “Well, let’s hear it.” “What the hell was that about!? ‘I always enjoy when you come to see me’ ‘I look forward to seeing you again’” Steve went on in mocking tones. “And that hug, that slimeball had the audacity to hug you. You clearly were uncomfortable… I have half a mind to go back there and…” “And what?” (Y/N) said, voice calmer than ever. Steve didn’t answer but sat there breathing heavy and rapid. She put a gentle hand on his arm, “Steve, he’s not worth it. The only time we need to worry about him is when Jessica gets in trouble, which isn’t often thankfully, so let’s put him out of our minds. Please.” At this, Steve visibly relaxed became less tense and let out a long breath. “You’re right,” Steve nodded, “I’m over-reacting. I’m sorry.” ���That’s okay.” (Y/N) said leaning over to him and kissed his cheek, “Now, we have the kids for three days in a row. So we need to tire them out as quickly as we can so we don’t go insane.” Steve chuckled, and got out of the car, “I don’t know if we’re up to the task soldier.” “It’ll be our toughest mission yet, against our fiercest enemies, but we have to try.” (Y/N) said as she got out of the car and walked over to Steve. “God, I love you,” Steve said, pulling (Y/N) under his arm and leading her inside. 

Find more of my work here. 

My work is exclusively posted on Tumblr by me, on this blog. If you see my work posted elsewhere, please reach out to me.

Thank you, xx.

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one teaser

Ok, here we are with the first ~1k of always be my plus one, so hopefully y'all enjoy this

WARNING: mentions of child birth

---------------------------

Christmas Day and the day after Christmas

December 21, 2021

“One fifteen means fifteen minutes before I have to clock in. Ten minutes before a twelve hour shift that I’m not ready for and don’t have enough caffeine for,” Anne muttered to herself, staring at her reflection through her car's rear view mirror. “But, fifteen minutes before getting to do something that I thankfully love, something that I enjoy doing.” No matter how long the shift in front of her, Anne had developed a habit of giving herself a pep talk before she got out of her car. “Whatever happens, you’ve helped someone.”

The last part wasn’t always true, knowing that there was the possibility that something could go wrong that she and the other nurses and doctors wouldn’t be able to fix. Lying to herself that everything was going to be ok was the only want to convince herself to go into the hospital everyday. Finally mustering up enough courage to get out of her car, she grabs her bag from the backseat, heading in for yet another long day right before the Christmas holiday.

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from the job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

“Hey, Tyson, come on!” comes from inside the open doors of the building, Anne not paying attention to who it was coming from, causing her to collide with a stranger, spilling her much needed coffee all over the both of them.

“Shit,” she says, not looking up from the brown splatter on what should be mint green scrubs. “I am so sorry.”

Standing in front of her was a curly haired boy, about her age, wearing what she was sure was a Colorado hockey jersey. Beyond that, she had no idea. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy you another,” he offers, ignoring the persistent calls from his friends to hurry up.

Anne checks her watch: 1:19. “It’s ok. I don’t really have the time, I have to clock in in eleven minutes, and knowing the cafeteria or the vending machines, it would take a lot longer,” she says, trying to get by him. Before he can protest, she gets to the elevator that would bring her to her floor, thankful that it was ready to get her there without her having to wait. The doors start to close, only to be stopped by a hand stuck through them, the curly haired boy with the coffee stain down the front of him getting on the elevator with her. Anne gives him a confused look, begging him to explain why he was trying to make her late for her shift.

“If you aren’t going to let me buy you one now to make up for it, at least let me see where you work so I can drop one off for you.”

Anne rolls her eyes, unamused by the man in front of her as he attempts to flirt with her. “That would be nice, but the chances of me getting it before it goes cold are slim to none, so you need to suggest something else if you really want to buy me a coffee.”

“Let me get your number so I can buy you one when you aren’t working?” he asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 1:25. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”

The elevator dings, signaling that they were on Anne’s floor, opening the door to nurses and doctors running around, expectant fathers who were probably kicked out of the delivery room for making the mom too nervous pacing the halls, grandparents trying to control younger children who had little to no idea what was going on as they waited in the strange building. Anne walks to the back room to drop her stuff off and clock in, typing her information into the stranger’s phone as he followed her like a puppy, his friend’s texts coming across the top of his screen asking where he went so they could leave.

“I’m Anne, and I’ve got to go,” she tells him, handing back his phone. There was no way he was going to text her, and it’s not like the coffee was that big of a deal to him. She could go to the vending machine down the hall and grab one during her break, or have someone else on their break do it for her if she needed it sooner.

“Can’t wait for our coffee date, Anne,” he says, winking at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back down the hallway.

“Who is he?” her coworker, Jess asked, popping up out of nowhere. “He’s hot.”

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Anne jokes, “he’s also wearing my hot coffee on his shirt.”

“You didn’t,” Jess scolds her, turning her around to see the coffee that was spilled down Anne’s own outfit, knowing Anne’s tendency to be a little absent-minded as she gets wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Anne, you did.”

“Not on purpose!”

“DeFormicola?” Anne’s supervisor, Jackson, pops his head into the room just as she was clocking in, “We need you in room 414.”

“Saved by the bell,” Anne teases, walking down the hall to where all the noise was coming from, trying to throw on the appropriate clothing before she went into the room, struggling to get the gloves on as she entered.

“Ok, Erin, we’re going to need you to push,” one of the doctors says, Anne standing behind him as she watched the baby’s head crowning.

This was her favorite part of the job, helping the mother stay calm and trying to make sure that despite the child coming out of her, she was as comfortable as possible. Normally, she would be with the mom as soon as she came in, Erin clearly nervous as to what was going on. They had to be first-time parents, the dad going back and forth to Erin’s side and behind the doctor, looking mortified each time and clearly regretting what he was seeing.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor says, handing the new baby to a breathless Erin.

“A boy! A boy!” the dad yells, going out to the hallway, Erin clearly unamused by whatever antics he was going about.

“Don’t worry, he’s not the first one to do that,” Anne reassures her, knowing that something like that would happen at least five more times during her shift, hearing the father’s voice repeating the phrase. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and then get him right back to you, ok?” Anne asks, reaching for the baby as everyone else around her tries to clean everything else up.

“Be careful with him,” Erin warns, not meaning anything bad by it. She was definitely a first time mother.

“I will be,” Anne tells her, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket as she does. “So you have a name picked out yet?”

“We were thinking Matthew.”

Anne turns her head, smiling at Erin. “That’s a good name. My older brother is named Matthew.”

Erin smiles at her, the father finally coming back in, clearly overjoyed by the birth of their new baby. Anne hands him back to his parents, Matthew screaming his head off as they get wheeled into another room.

Anne goes over to the desk, sitting down where she was supposed to be for the start of her shift to do paperwork, but the uncertainty in the hour by hour of the schedule was not surprising. She pulls out her phone, ‘Maybe: Tyson’ coming up across her screen.

“He’s already texting me,” she alerts Jess whose head whips away from her computer to look over Anne’s shoulder at what message the mystery man could have sent her.

“He’s horny.”

“Jessica!” she squeals, wishing she was more shocked by what her friend had said. “Why is that always your first reaction to a boy sending a message?”

She shrugs, swiveling back to her own computer, “I’m normally right. What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know when he can buy me coffee.”

“Horny.”

“Enough.”

“You should date him.”

Anne turns to her, clearly unamused by Jess’s need to continue the conversation. “I don’t have to date anyone.”

Jess lets out a long sigh, Anne knowing that she was rolling her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying you should.”

“Ok, I don’t want to date anyone.”

“Oh, come on Anne,” Jess says, getting up and plopping herself on the desk in front of Anne, fiddling with the wire connecting the mouse to the rest of the computer. “You work in a maternity ward where people become parents everyday, and you haven’t even thought of finding a man?”

“You don’t have a point,” Anne tells her, not making eye contact with her.

“My point,” Jess says, leaning over to block Anne’s view of her computer screen, “is that you can’t be single forever.”

“Says who?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you were named after the patron saint of the town your grandmothers were from?”

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing where this was going. It was going in the same direction that this conversation always went in when she had it with her mom every single holiday. “All four of us are named after the patron saints of the towns our grandparents are from.”

“St. Anne is the patron saint of child care, grandparents and mothers.”

“She’s also that patron saint of unmarried women, so your argument is invalid, as usual.”

Jess takes in a breath to say something, cut off by Jackson calling for Jess to go into one of the delivery rooms. “Just don’t say no because you think you have to be single,” she advises as she walks away.

Anne leans back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is how Christmas is going to go, isn’t it?” she asks herself.

[embracethecringeside]

So I’m writing an over all bigger fic where the pieces all kinda fit together and I have the links to my first chapter on both ao3 and fanfiction.net but I thought I’d share this little tidbit that I wrote up really quick on here because it isn’t super long and I’m not quite sure where it fits into the narrative yet lol but I kinda like it? It’s super rough with no real editing because I just had this itch to write it and just sort of went with my gut but I thought maybe others would enjoy it? Maybe? 

So anyway this is written in third person, but the main focus is on Storage Rick (from Pocket Mortys) who lives with Cop Rick and Doofus Rick and is starting to have feelings for at least one of them. (the official Pocket Mortys twitter tweeted this and since it is supposed to be run by Storage Rick it got me thinking and I got this idea stuck in my head)

Word Count: 1,996

I am not good with titles so this doesn’t have one. Yet. 

He couldn’t stop replaying that morning's events in his mind, even though they were nothing special or remarkable in any way, shape, or form. In fact that morning had been like every other morning he had gone to work, but he still had it fresh in his mind, on repeat. See, every time Storage actually decided to drag himself to the Morty Daycare, Doof would stop him before opening the portal.

“W-w-wait! Don’t-don’t forget this,” and he would clip Storage’s name badge onto his shirt for him with an extra little pat for security sake. 

Rick Sanchez is not a man who just forgets things. He knew he needed the badge. He knew that every night he slapped the down on the dining room table and every night Cop clipped it on the key rack so he would be able to see it when he walked down the stairs past the front door. He knew he could just leave it in his locker at the daycare after his shift instead of doing any of that. It was all so pointless. Yet he found himself falling into the routine time and time again. Willingly. Almost with anticipation. 

Storage waited for the sensation of light tugging on his shirt as put the clamp on the fabric, the pat on his chest, that big goofy smile with and stupid buck teeth sending a burst of oxytocin through his synapses, all the while he had to make sure he was rolling his eyes with a sour expression so his… aquintance? Wouldn’t notice. Then he’d play it up with a rude remark in a rushed tone. 

“I’m capable of r-remembering something as simple as my badge.” There, that meant that as far as Doof knew, he was annoyed and bothered that he would even suggest that he could possibly be that forgetful, therefore discouraging him from performing the action again. Thank goodness he never listened. 

“Oh! I-I packed you lunch as well.” Another non surprise, he made lunch for everyone that lived in that house everyday. He broke into another idoitic smile as he proudly presented a paper bag. “And I put some extra brownies in there, so don’t be afraid to-to share some with the M-mortys, okay?” Using his portal gun, he opened the portal to the Citadel of Ricks.

“Pssh,” he scoffed as he snatched the bag out of Doofus Rick’s hands. “As if I’d s-share with those little m-monsters.” Although he had just insulted Morty, that dingbat still managed to look so damn happy, which made Storage acutely aware of his rising heart rate. Doof even stifled a laugh before telling him, “Have a good day!” 

He leaped through that portal just as he felt his cheeks beginning to flush. Yikes. 

So in short, absolutely nothing special happened. Nothing remarkable, incredible, or amazing. But there he was anyway, stuck in that moment, thinking about his brown eyes, his overly chipper demeanor, his ridiculous bowl cut, his kindness, his moronic smile that was too-

“Rick?” 

Storage glanced to his right to see a Morty, a rather well dressed Morty sitting criss cross applesauce on the counter staring at him, looking all smug. 

“W-w-what? What the Hell do you want?” Ugh, in just a moment he was fully brought back to the reality of his day job, the smell of unwashed teenage boys and the uncomfortable closeness of the tightly packed building that was somehow supposed to hold over 300 brats. 

“Just-just wondering what you’re thinking about,” he said in a mocking, cocky tone.

“Pushing you off my counter.”

“No you’re not,”

“Like you would- as though you could ever understand the things I think about Morty.” 

“You have that look on your face Rick. That-that look that I get on my face when I think about Jessica.”

Of course at the sound of that name was met an astounding sigh of, “Ahh, Jessica” that spread across the room. 

“I do not.” he snapped, turning so he was still looking out, away from the Daycare, but so Morty couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Y-you can deny it but I’ve seen my own face enough times to know!” 

“At least you can read your own facial expressions Morty. Good to know you can read something.” 

There. That ought to shut him up. 

“So,” Damnit. Maybe not. “What’s her name?”

Storage grit his teeth. He noticed Morty scoot closer out of the corner of his eye. He tried to think about literally anything else, but when he sensed Morty’s hand moving toward him, he firmly grabbed his wrist before he got a chance to touch him. He made sure to give him the harshest stare down he could. But that Morty was either brave or stupid, Storage was betting on the latter, because he did not take the hint.

“I’ll just keep bothering you until you talk.” 

Oh. So that’s what he wanted huh? Wanted Rick to open that big mouth of his and start talking? Well. If that was what he wanted. 

“T-t-tell me M-Morty, what-what is it about Jessica you like so much?” 

“W-w-well,” He wasn’t expecting that. “Uh, gee, I don’t know, w-what’s not to like? She’s really hot, and has red hair, and-and she has boobs.” Morty paused, clearly uncomfortable with the undivided attention he was receiving from Storage Rick, and began to sweat as he peeled his eyes away from his steely stare, looking behind him for any kind of support from, well, himself. 

One Morty shrugged. “Aw geez, I-I don’t know! D-don’t look at me! You already mentioned her boobs.”

“They- they really are great boobs Rick, trust me,” another spoke. 

“A hot redhead with nice tits, a good pair of jugs, some real bazongas, a piece of eye candy to jerk off to huh Morty?”

Ew, it was gross to hear a version of his grandpa put it that way. But he nodded, because as nasty as it was, he was right.

Unibrow raised, Rick prompted, “What else?”

“Um,” he wasn’t sure what to say. And apparently no other Morty did either. 

“I thought you were in love with her Morty.”

“W-well I-I am, and-and one day we’ll get married and have kids-”

“Have you even had a conversation with this girl? With this Jessica?” He smiled, but not the dreamy peaceful one he had earlier, more of a vengeful smirk. 

Morty squirmed. “W-well, n-no, not-not exactly-” 

Rick laughed. “Y-you want to waste the rest of your life with her but all you know is she’s a banging chick with the name Jessica?” He continued laughing, and let go of Morty. “That’s nothing more than pinning, lust, and raging teenage hormones Morty. D-don’t waste my time with it.” 

He expected that to be the end of the conversation, so he was a little perturbed when Morty, in his little blue suit, didn't move. 

“B-but I do love her Rick.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Rick.”

“I’m tired of talking to you. Go play. Or masturbate. Whatever teenagers do. I don’t really give a shit.” 

Not only did he not get down from the counter but he stood up to make himself tall and started yelling. “Y-y-you don’t- you can’t tell me how I feel! I know I love Jessica! Y-y-you don’t get to decide that for me just b-because you’re old and bitter and-and have never cared about anyone but yourself!” 

Honestly, it was impressive, seeing Morty, literally stand up for himself, but that didn’t change Storage’s mind. He was right. Morty was wrong. 

“Oh yeah! What a monster I am! Suggesting that you actually know something about the person you claim you want to be chained to forever. What are her hobbies? Her interests? Do you share similar tastes in movies? In books? W-w-what if she’s a bitch? As mean as they come, a real pain in the ass?”

“She’s not!”

“And you know that how? From easy dropping on her and her friends at school like some kind of creep? Like-like a stalker? She could be horrible! I-in fact everyone has horrible traits they try to hide all the time. W-w-what if she doesn’t recycle? Or-or is an  anti-vaxxer? She could be a homophobic, racist, sexist ass Morty! What? Y-y-you think only men can be sexist? Have you ever been forced to talk to a conservative white woman before? That-that could be her Morty!”

His fists were balled up so tight his nails burrowed into his palms. “W-w-why do you have to think about it that way Rick? Always so-so negative, she could be perfect! I like to think that she’s sweet and kind with a big heart to match her breasts, and-and that she's smart and fun! She could be all of those things too Rick, did-did your big brain ever think of that? You-you factor that in genius?” 

Storage grumbled. “Yes, of course I thought of that.” It was something he thought about a lot. How Doofus Rick wasn’t a doofus at all. He was just as smart and capable as any Rick but he found a way to stay kind and care for others in a way that most Ricks couldn’t or wouldn’t. Which brought him to his response, “What if she’s amazing and she doesn’t like you back?” Because why would he? Storage Rick was a mean, cantankerous, foul mouthed, grimy old timer who had started a screaming match with his almost grandson so he could avoid talking about his feelings. “W-w-why drag you around if she's out of your league?” 

Well, that accomplished two things, Morty was no longer on the counter and he had stopped talking, but only because he was crying. He really hadn’t considered anything Rick was talking about, he thought , adults did it all romance was so easy, adults did it all the time. He was supposed to marry his high school crush and live happily ever after, wasn’t he? So simple, cut, and dry. 

Instead of feeling victorious, Rick just felt like an ass. He didn’t want to make Morty upset, he just wanted to make him drop the topic. And get his ass off the counter. It was as though he could hear Doof’s nagging already. Oh please be nice to Morty! H-he’s just a kid Storage, be gentle with him. With a groan he used one foot to pivot so he was facing the inside of the daycare building. “Wait, Morty,”

“Which one?”

“Me?” 

“No! Clearly not you, the one all dressed up with nowhere to go. The hopeless romantic.” He waited a second, but Morty didn’t turn around. “There is another possibility,” he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “It’s possible that you both end up really liking each other and end up getting married and junk.” 

Using the sleeve of his jacket, Morty wiped his eyes and glanced back toward Storage Rick. “R-really?”

“Yeah. Anything is possible, Morty.” Then he wasn’t expecting to be rushed into with a hug, he let it linger for a moment before voicing his disdain. “D-don’t fucking touch me, get-get off.”  And he got an idea. “Say, I’ll give you a few flurbos and let you run over to Salesman Rick’s.”

His little face lit up as Rick handed him the money.

“Now I’ve heard that he has ice cream.” He stated as he lifted Morty up and over the counter and out of the daycare. “Why not try and get some? Make sure and tell him Storage Rick sent you.”

“Wow, t-thanks Rick!” As he watched him run off, he heard the gaggle of Mortys behind him discussing whether or not he would be triumphant. Spoiler? He wouldn’t be. And Salesman Rick was going to be rather testy. 

One particularly scruffy Morty whined. “Rick, he never has ice cream. When will you stop sending us on this wild goose chase?”

“When it stops being funny.” Hm. Maybe he would have to share his brownies after all to make up for the trouble he caused.

[teampandawang]

Teach Me How To Love | Part I

By: Mow 

Genre: Fluff // Angst // Smut(? 

Pairing: Suga X Reader (with surprises along the way)

Description: Is when your comfort zone is in its closest state that you will see the brightest sunlight on the outside. 

A/N: Soooooooooooo, this has begun. 🥳 I'm happy to be posting this, it’s been a long time since the idea came to my head and I hope you get to enjoy it. Also, If there’s any disclaimer along the way like smut or something I’ll warn you, so don’t worry. 

“That’s all for today.” Said the voice of your professor. The echo of his words set you free for the weekend. Finally, with the last goodbye you gave him, you were able to rest.

“Thank God.” You said right after, in a whisper for just you and your friend to hear.

“Never thought you would say that.” She joked.

“I get tired too, you know?” You joked back. The weight of the courses disappearing from your shoulders.

“It always looks like you don't.”

Everyone was used to believe your life was studying, nothing else. You were the president of the investigation department, so you actually had a lot of work to do. Usually, you had to run after class to some meeting with the rest of the group, and after that, you needed to get back home soon to finish any class paper or to practice a project presentation. It wasn't easy to balance your academic life with your personal life, but it was something you thought necessary to not lose your mind. So despite all the college activity, you also had really good times with your friends, but until today, they still felt amazed by the other side of you.

“Do you want to go shopping with me tomorrow?” You asked your friend as you grabbed your backpack from the floor.

“Actually I was going to invite you to a party. It's been a while since we went to one.” Jessica answered you. Starting to walk beside you, out of the auditorium.

“Well, we can go shopping and then to the party. How does that sound?” You proposed. You really needed new clothes, even more, if you were going out to a college party.

“Uh, I love it.” She said excited making a small jump.

“And whose party is this?” You asked.

“Jimin's,” She said through an awkward grin, waiting for your reaction.

“You have to be kidding me. Are we really going to that fraternity?” You asked irritated, remembering how that ended the last time your friend's group went.

The thing was that they weren't all bad guys. You actually had worked a lot with Namjoon in a couple of investigation projects, and Hoseok and you shared plenty of classes. But the rest of the guys were not the kind of people you would like to be involved with.

“C'mon! I have to go, Jin is going to be there.” Jessica had a big, HUGE, crush on Jin, so it didn't matter whose and what event was it, if he was there, then she needed to be there too. But that didn't mean they were close, not even friends. The moment Jin stands in front of her, she gets extremely nervous and runs away. This had happened more times than you wanted to admit.

“We'll go if you promise me to finally talk properly to him.” You played, not wanting to keep the game of following Jin with her any longer.

“I… fine, yes. I promise.” She said biting her lips.

“Then this is gonna be really fun, isn't it?” You let out on a small laugh to tease her.

“Please support me!” Jessica yelled to you, making your laughter grow.

“I will, seriously.” You managed to say, catching your breath again.

You were sure she was going to need your help, but seeing her all red and struggling to keep the conversation with him alive was always funny. You kept teasing her as both of you walked to the building's exit, stopping immediately at the sight of a crowd blocking the way. The students were standing in a circle, probably seeing some argument, according to the screams.

“What’s happening?” Jessica asked you softly.

“I don't know. Wait here, I'll see.”

The curiosity dragged you inside. You searched for someone you knew to ask what was happening but there was no one, so you made your way between the mass of people, all of them yelling. Some screams in approvement and the others against. But against what? You pushed gently a few more bodies out of your way, with lots of excuses, until you reached the center of the crowd, your gaze catching a pretty discouraging image.

Standing in the middle was Jimin with his fist closed on the shirt of another student you didn't recognize. He wasn't saying anything to him, but the look in his eyes expressed clearly his aggressive intentions. You managed to see his other hand moved directly to the poor guy's face, but when you were about to scream, someone grabbed Jimin’s hand and took him away. It was a guy known as Suga, one more of the group you were talking about earlier, but surprisingly, and despite his fame, he wasn't directly an aggressive guy as you could see.

“The show is over, go away!” Shouted Namjoon, which apparently came with Suga to stop their problematic little friend.

You took a few steps away to find Jessica between the people left. You were concerned and shocked, not believing yet what you just saw. You weren't a person of fights, not even small conflicts, so this was the first time you actually saw a fist raised to hit somebody else. Is this how it was going to be tomorrow? You hoped not.

“Y/N!” She yelled and your eyes found her. “What was that?” She asked you as soon as you reached her side again, the worried tone clear in her voice.

“Well, that was our precious little host, being the asshole he is.” You answered her bitterly, taking the image away.

“I won't try to deny it, but you know not all of them are like that.” You knew she was trying to stop you from backing off. Which in fact was what you were about to do. “And is not like you have to talk to him, maybe you won't even see him the whole night.”

“Maybe, but is not just him. I have to avoid 3 of them in order to have peace.” You rolled your eyes, thinking of a plan to keep yourself away from them. But despite that, and the bad mood you were getting right in that moment, you didn't want to let her down on this one, you had already done that a lot of times before. “But relax, I'm still going. You need help with Jin.” You finally agreed, hoping to not regret it later.

“Yay! Thank you, Y/N.” She said jumping and smiling widely. At least she was happy, and that made your heart warmed.

She was like your sister, little sister may I add, not actually by age but with the way she acted sometimes, it felt like that. But you didn't mind. Both of you had plenty of good times together, and you were happy with her in your life.

After chatting with her at the entrance for a couple of minutes, you went home.

You unlocked the front door with a smile on your face, the familiar scent from your apartment greeting you as soon as the door shot open. It was always comforting to be home after a long day, and the peace of living by yourself was, without a doubt, the best thing you had found in your life. Everything there went at your pace, everything looked the way you liked it, everything was according to your taste, and that was simply beautiful to you.

“Here you are.” You said between giggles at the sight of your cat walking straight to you from the bedroom. Holly always greeted you when you arrived, sometimes it was just asking for food, but the feeling of her waiting for you was still quite nice.

You filled Holly’s plate in the kitchen before going to your bedroom. The sight of your comfortable bed suddenly making you feel how tired you actually were, your eyes felt heavy and they kept refusing to stay open even from where you were standing, so you changed your clothes in a hurry and laid down, the soft sheets making your body relax in an instance as the heavy thoughts of your responsibilities fade away.

You woke up a few hours later, totally lost in reality. Your hand traveled the surface of your bed searching for your phone between the covers, as you asked yourself what hour was. When you felt it, your fingers curled surrounding it, holding it above your face and unlocking it right in front of your still sleepy eyes, burning them. You groaned softly in annoyance and closed them for a second to adjust to the new amount of light.

The screen said it was almost 9 pm, and your stomach agreed with the feeling of emptiness inside of it, so while you collected energy to stand up and go make something to eat, you scrolled down your social media, waiting to feel fully awake. Not too long on it, you found a post that caught your attention, it was from Hoseok.

“These guys, seriously…” You sighed to yourself.

It wasn't a doubt that the party was going to be wild, because not once one of that fraternity’s parties had ended up without a sex scene, without a fight, without a scandal. Those guys didn't really care if someone got hurt or if something dangerous happened, they had just one thing in mind, have fun, which can be translated into sex, lots of alcohol, and who knows what more. But you were determined to go and have a good time as well, a quite different kind of fun, but fun after all. Also, you really wanted to help Jessica. You knew Jin wasn't a bad guy. Actually, at that very moment, you stopped yourself to think if they were as bad as you thought. The incident with that guy Suga caught your attention. You had always heard that he was pretty violent, so why did he stopped his friend? That wasn't something you would expect from him. Maybe, just maybe, you were underestimating them… you'll see tomorrow night.

You closed the app and locked your phone again, leaving the thoughts for later in order to stand on your feet and make your way to the kitchen. The cold floor under your bare feet took the necessity of jumping into the bed back again, but the hunger was stronger.

Finally, you made something easy and fast out of laziness and then headed back to your bedroom with the hot plate in your hands. You turned on the T.V. and put Netflix while you ate. The movie played on the screen until you fell asleep again, with the plate at one side.

"What do you think about this one?" You asked your friend. You've been in the same store for what seemed like forever, and because Jessica needed you to make a decision over a top, you were just starting to try on the things you picked. But the thing was that the moment she got what she wanted, she lost herself taking pictures to upload them probably on every social media. "Jessica!"

"I'm sorry!" She said lifting her head from her phone, after checking the last picture she took. "Wow, Y/N, you look so sexy! That dress is going to catch a lot of attention." She almost yelled through a wide smile.

"Is it too much? Should I try another one?" You asked seeing the dress in the mirror, not feeling sure if it was right for the occasion. ‘Is it too short? Or too elegant?’ You kept asking yourself.

"Don't you dare, you look amazing and it's perfect for tonight. We're taking this one." She said more excited than you while taking a picture of you with her phone. She was always your best supporter in this kind of situations, you trusted her.

You rolled your eyes at the sound of the camera but found her enthusiasm funny, and the dress was beautiful, it was very sexy too, but with a jacket it would look more casual. So you ended up convincing yourself that it was a great decision and finally bought it.

After you got all the things you needed to, you drove home, leaving Jessica at her place in the way, agreeing on meeting her later.

The sky had already turned dark with the stars shining brightly up there hand in hand with the beautiful lights of the city. The wind was cold and without struggle managed to enter through the window, catching your still bared arms, sending shivers all over your body, but before putting on your jacket you sprayed the last drops of perfume on your neck, that being the only thing left to be ready. After the fabric covered your shoulders, you took one last glance in the mirror.

The view sent you a strong feeling of confidence and your eyes sparkled at the sight. You looked amazing. The dress, without a doubt, fit you perfectly. Not always you felt like this before going out, but tonight you were damn sure you looked great, and the feeling of that was wonderful.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Twenty Nine

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

November 22nd, 2018

Logan sat at the Harkness’ table, offering a shy smile to Jack’s relatives. Jack was sitting right next to him, and talking about he and Logan had talked pretty much every day since he could remember being in kindergarten. He knew they were wondering why he was at their Thanksgiving, because no one had told them why he was here yet.

Jack continued talking, making a point to use Logan’s name and correct pronouns, and not one person at the table looked uncomfortable, much to Logan’s relief. He would have hated to have to deal with more transphobes at Thanksgiving.

“All of this is great, Jack,” one of Jack’s uncles cut in. “But where in this does that mean Logan is over here with us, and not with his family?”

Jack paused and looked at Logan helplessly. Logan swallowed and awkwardly squeaked out, “My parents...uh...kicked me out.”

“What?!” erupted around the table, along with a bunch of follow-up questions. Jack’s mother clapped her hands to gather everyone’s attention. “This is a very sensitive topic for Logan, everyone. I’d appreciate you not interrogating him about something he is very clearly uncomfortable with.”

Logan was incredibly thankful for Jack’s mom.

July 4th, 2019

Logan was scratching at his cheek. He was feeling more confident since he had been on testosterone, but he felt a little disappointed that he was unlikely to grow a beard. No sign of facial hair almost a month in wasn’t the end of the world for him, true. And usually facial hair took two months to see significant growth. But he knew most guys in his family did not have beards, and he wished that he would have been the exception to that rule.

Roman was chatting next to him, looking at the different kinds of hot dogs they had at the store, since Dad and Ami were hosting a neighborhood cookout for Independence Day. Logan didn’t register the voice at first, but when he did he froze, blood running cold. He heard the voice of his mother.

“Logan? Something up?” Roman asked, turning to him as Logan turned towards the end of the aisle he heard the voice coming from.

His mother’s eyes landed on him and she blinked. “Jessica?” she asked.

Logan’s voice cracked a little as he corrected her. “Logan.”

“Jessica, what have you been doing to your body?!” his mother asked, walking over and grabbing his cheeks. “You never used to have this much acne, and your voice is deeper!”

Roman shoved Logan’s mother away as Logan’s breathing picked up. “I’m on Hormone Replacement Therapy, Mom. This is what’s supposed to happen when you take Testosterone.”

“Testosterone,” his mother said, disbelief in her tone. “You’re taking Testosterone. You look like a boy, Jess!”

“I am a boy, Mom,” Logan said. “You can’t change my mind about who I am.”

Another familiar voice drifted down the same aisle and Logan’s mother paled. “Jess, go, right now! Your father can’t see you like this!”

“My name is Logan!” Logan insisted. “And that man is not my father!”

“Diane, where did you go?!” his ex-father snapped, rounding the corner. When he saw Logan, his entire face turned red and he started stalking over.

Logan paled and turned in the general direction he knew the others had been and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Dad! Ami!”

Roman took a step forward, blocking Logan’s ex-father from getting any closer. “Stop right there! You’re not gonna hurt my older brother!”

His ex-father sneered. “Kid, ‘he’ is a chick. And my daughter. Though clearly, she doesn’t understand that yet.”

Logan was shaking. From rage or fear, he couldn’t tell. “I’m not your daughter, moron!” Logan snapped. “I’ve known you weren’t my sperm donor for a while now! And I’ve been adopted by people who actually love me, and call me by my real name, and my real pronouns, and they’re letting me transition so I can be who I’m meant to be! Logan! Not Jessica!”

His ex-father’s nostrils flared, and he shoved Roman out of the way into the refrigerator housing the hot dogs. He raised a hand and Logan flinched, bracing for an impact that never came. He cracked one eye open, and found Ami holding his ex-father’s arm in a vice grip. Logan hadn’t heard him approach over the blood roaring in his ears.

Ami had three inches easily on his ex-father, and Dad, who was stalking over slowly, had about five. His ex-father seemed to be realizing that he had miscalculated. “Henry, let’s just go,” his mom said.

His ex-father tried to wrench his hand free but Ami wasn’t letting go just yet. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on my son,” Ami spat. “You’re lucky that I don’t let my husband teach you a lesson.”

When his ex-father turned disgusted, Logan actually started fearing for the man’s life. Not necessarily actively, and not enough to do anything about it, but he did wonder how everyone would get out of this situation alive. “Jessica, you cannot be staying with queers.”

Logan crossed his arms and stared his ex-father in the eye. “Why do you even care, though? I thought you disowned me, kicked me out of the house, left me for dead? You wanted nothing to do with me, so why do you all of a sudden care what I’m doing with my life?

“I’m getting Hormone Replacement Therapy, so I actually look like the guy I am. I’m still going to school, and doing better than I ever did when I was stuck with you and Mom. I’m thriving. But because I wanted to go by he and him, you decided that I wasn’t worth your time, and you wanted nothing to do with me. And it took me a while, but I want nothing to do with you either, anymore.

“Don’t ever approach me again. Either of you. If you can’t respect me enough to call me Logan instead of Jessica and your son instead of your daughter, I’m not interested in knowing you. I have two dads who actually care about me, instead of caring about the concept that you built around me and said I had to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure my brother is all right, seeing as how you threw him into the refrigerator.”

Dad growled. “He did what?!”

Logan sighed. “I wish I could say this was a shock. He always throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way.” He turned to Roman, who had slid down to the floor and was staring into the distance, seeing nothing. “You all right, Prep?”

“Fine,” Roman murmured, still not moving his eyes.

“I’d like the truthful answer, but I’ll take what I can get for now,” Logan said, helping Roman to stand. “What hot dogs were you thinking we should get for the party?”

Roman looked back to the refrigerator and leaned in, grabbing a box of beef hot dogs. “Kosher,” Roman mumbled. “Thought we should get the Kosher ones, just in case.”

“Good idea,” Logan said. He grabbed a couple boxes and put them in the hand cart that was tipped over on the floor, after Roman had been shoved. Inspecting the items that felt out, everything seemed to be fine, so he collected it all in the cart, and, with an arm around Roman’s shoulders, he told Dad, “I think I’ll take the boys elsewhere right now, Dad. They don’t need to be around horrible people. They don’t deserve to be around horrible people.”

Dad looked over at him. “Why don’t you take them to look at the cookies? Even if it’s a bit of a potluck, there’s no reason we can’t buy some cookies for the visitors. Ami and I will be right behind you.”

Logan nodded once, and ushered his brothers away from the scene. Logan could hear murmuring once they were across a quarter of the store. Which was marginally better than yelling, but the ice he could hear in the tone still sent a shiver up Logan’s spine. He never wanted to be on Dad or Ami’s bad side. They protected their own, no matter what it took. Which could be helpful, true, but it also meant that Logan went out of his way to make it clear to his brothers and himself that he wasn’t being threatening, to anyone.

Then there was the shout of, “How dare you say that I don’t know how to raise my own daughter?!” from his ex-father and Logan felt dysphoria wash over him. He could think of a very apt three-letter word to describe his ex-father right now, but he just tightened his grip on the basket until he was white-knuckled and continued forward.

Dee tugged on the hem of Logan’s shirt and Logan looked down. “You’re not a girl, you’re a boy,” Dee signed definitively.

“I know,” Logan said softly. “It just hurts that...they don’t.”

Virgil wrung his hands before saying, “I know it’s easier to say ‘who cares what they think’ than to believe it, but you shouldn’t care what they think about you if all it’s going to do is hurt you.”

Logan sighed and shook his head, feeling tears prick his eyes. “I know,” he said, voice growing thick. “It’s just...so...hard.”

Roman hugged Logan fiercely. “Yeah, it is,” Roman agreed. “But we’ll be here to help you through it, understand?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, patting Roman’s hands in an effort to get him to let go. “I appreciate it.”

When Roman let go, Logan took a deep breath and looked around. They were almost at the bakery. “What kind of cookies do you guys want?”

Patton, Virgil, and Dee immediately started listing the cookies they liked, and Roman, though sending Logan a look that said he knew what Logan was doing, threw in his two cents as well. Logan nodded at all their answers and continued walking until they got to the bakery, at which point he stopped and kept an eye on the others as they looked around and debated what were the best cookies for a cookout.

When Dad walked up and stood next to him, Logan winced. “How bad was it?” he asked.

“Well, I can understand why you were traumatized by the both of them,” Dad said. “They don’t immediately set off red flags, but I’m a therapist, so I know how to read between the lines, and this is definitely one couple who needs some serious help. Though not from me.”

Ami walked up on the other side of Logan and took the hand cart out of his hands. “Found the shopping cart, thankfully nothing was taken,” he said. “And don’t worry Logan, I’m pretty sure your former parents will be giving you a wide berth from now on.”

Logan nodded. “Good, that’s good.”

The three of them lapsed into silence as Roman whooped victoriously, holding a box of snickerdoodles in the air as Patton and Virgil tried to jump and grab them. Eventually, Logan sighed. “I thought I had gotten over them tossing me out to the street, but I guess I was wrong.”

“I’m not sure that’s something one ever truly recovers from,” Dad mused. “But you’ve made remarkable progress; don’t downplay what you’ve done so far. And don’t tell yourself that you’ll never get better than this.”

“Yeah,” Logan said softly, looking down. He knew he could get better, but it seemed like such a foreign concept, something that seemed too far away to consider real.

“Let’s bench that for now,” Dad offered. “Are there any cookies you’d want to bring to the cookout?”

Logan shook his head. “Not really. I prefer cake, personally.”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Dad said.

Logan shrugged. “Sometimes I forget I have to tell you these things. It feels like I grew up in your house, it doesn’t occur to me that I didn’t and therefore have to explain...or, not explain...enlighten you to my preferences.”

Ami grinned. “You’re learning to out therapist-speak Emile.”

Logan laughed. “I’m just learning that word choice is important.”

“Like I said. Therapist-speak,” Ami teased.

“Ami, you can be really annoying when you want to be,” Logan said with a huff.

“Thank you!” Ami said brightly. “I do try.”

Logan chuckled despite himself and they moved closer towards where the boys were focusing on a specific display of cookies. Logan leaned in close to Roman, and spoke practically in his ear, “See something you like?”

Roman yipped and whirled around, punching Logan in the arm, possibly a little harder than strictly necessary, but Logan didn’t really mind. “My question still stands,” Logan informed him.

“We found a variety box,” Roman said with a half-hearted glare. “But we’re trying to decide if we want the ones with snickerdoodles or sugar cookies.”

Logan hummed in thought. “I would say snickerdoodles, but that’s just me.”

“Ha! I told you!” Roman exclaimed, whirling around to talk to Patton. “Logan is definitely a snickerdoodle man!”

“Actually, I prefer cake to cookies,” Logan said with a shrug. “I just appreciate snickerdoodles marginally more than sugar cookies.”

That sparked a debate rather quickly. “Cake is good and all, but cookies are way better!” Virgil asserted.

“No way! Cake is so much better!” Logan said with a grin.

“What about a cookie cake? Huh? Those are amazing!” Patton exclaimed, jumping in the air and waving his arms around to prove his point.

Logan shook his head as the debate soon devolved into excited rambling about each other's favorite desserts. He loved this family. It made him feel like he had a home again.

[aka-willow]

Heroes, Pt. 4

gif

Words: 1533

Characters: Willow Wren, Jessica Jones, Kilgrave, Trish Walker, Jeri Hogarth, Oscar Clemons

Prompt/Tag: “You need to see a doctor.” x  / @dewysbride​

Summary: Willow sticks around as Jessica brings in Kilgrave’s parents

Timeline: April 2015

Song: Fausta – Rupert Gregson-Williams

A/N: Part 4/4

—————————————————————————–

“They’re on their way,” says Trish, calling over to me. “Let’s go.”

I run after her and we go back inside the warehouse, waiting in a side hallway as the others show up. “Are those Kilgrave’s parents?” I whisper. “And is that a police officer?”

“Detective,” says Trish, checking her phone. “Stay quiet. Jessica needs us as insurance.”

We enter the room just as the detective pulls a gun on Jessica, threatening arrest. Trish then pulls a gun on the officer.

“Holy crap,” I say. “That’s a gun.”

Jessica rolls her eyes. The detective, with his hands in the air, glances at me. “That is a child.”

“She’s here as back-up,” says Jessica.

“Are you insane?” Hogarth asks Jessica while Jessica handcuffs the detective to a pipe. “You know, what don’t you just cuff me right now? Because I’m about to call 911.”

“Well, then I will make sure to tell them you’re an accomplice to kidnapping.” Jessica looks back at the detective. “Keep your eyes on that man in the cell. Your testimony is going to put him away.”

I’m standing next to the detective now, who looks absolutely bewildered. While Jessica was looking for Kilgrave’s parents, I ended up running to Dunkin’ Donuts to refuel, and I continue to guzzle down the large iced coffee I bought as Jessica prepares the group.

“Now, let’s give him something to witness.”

My stomach churns and I start to think that maybe all this caffeine was a terrible idea. Jessica leads Kilgrave’s parent’s through the sealed doors, and I fight every instinct to run. There’s no good way this could end. Right? Something bad is going to happen. It has to.

My mind is splitting in a million different directions. I wonder if Kilgrave’s parents mind their feet getting wet. I wonder if I should have added more sugar to the coffee. And I wonder if Jessica really knows what she’s doing.

His parents start talking, trying to be sympathetic. I almost feel for them, but my feelings are all muddled. Kilgrave then plays the sympathy card, talking about how Jessica taught him to save people. Bullshit. I take another gulp of iced coffee.

“THEN WHY DID YOU LEAVE?” Kilgrave shouts and I take a step back as Jessica leans in closer, her finger on the shock switch.

This is what we want. We need him to do something.

I eye the video camera and then pull out my own phone, silently recording below my hip. I don’t trust the video camera alone. We have to catch this.

“Release me now and I’ll overlook the assault,” says the detective. “We’ll call it resisting arrest.”

“It’s not over yet,” Jessica says.

As Kilgrave’s mom hugs him, I suddenly hear the swish of metal and before I can call out, she lunges at Kilgrave and stabs him in the shoulder.

“Get them out now!” the detective yells.

“Not yet,” says Jessica.

Kilgrave instructs his mom to pick up the fallen scissors. The air in our room stops moving as we all hold our breath. I feel sick.

“She did it,” Jessica says.

“Did what?” asks the detective.

“It’s on tape.”

“He didn’t see it. It’s not enough,” says Trish.

“This won’t work, pull them out now!” Hogarth yells.

“Jessica…” I start.

Kilgrave’s mom turns the scissors on herself as Kilgrave whispers instructions. Jessica, make her stop. Pull her out. She’s going to stab herself.

“Got him,” Jessica whispers and she slams down the shock switch.

It clicks twice and then there’s a buzz.

It’s not working. Fuck—it’s not working!

“Everybody out! Run!” Jessica yells.

“Go, go, run,” says Trish, pushing me towards the threshold.

“Get me out of these!” says the detective.

Hogarth takes off running down the hall, while Trish fumbles with the detective’s handcuffs. “Jess, the keys, I need the—”

I’m absolutely wired with energy, but I’m frozen on the spot as Jessica rushes to open up the sealed room. Kilgrave’s mother stabs herself over, and over, and over, the sound of the scissors piercing her chest thundering like a heartbeat in my ears. “Go!” Trish yells back to me.

“The keys,” I say. “Jessica put them in her bag.”

Just as I kneel down to rifle through her shoulder bag, I hear Kilgrave command his dad to stab himself as well. “No, not him, too,” says Trish.

I stand and watch in horror as Kilgrave’s father turns the tip of the scissors towards his chest. Trish pulls back out her gun and cocks it, aiming it at the glass.

“No, Trish!” I yell.

She opens fire on the glass.

I cover my ears, the sound of the shots assaulting my sensitive hearing and duck back down to the ground. One of the glass panels shatter.

“Get me out of here!” the detective yells.

The keys.

I dive back toward Jessica’s bag. “I’m trying to find the keys,” I tell him. “I—”

The gun fires again and Kilgrave cries out.

I should run. I need to run now.

But I can’t leave these guys behind.

“Cut your heart out, dad!” Kilgrave yells, and I hear him clearly now, his voice leaving the once-sealed room and filling the small space. “Put a bullet in your skull, Patsy.”

The gun clicks. I’m still on the floor. Trish gasps as the gun fails. I look up and Kilgrave is standing above me, a hand over his bleeding shoulder, his eyes bloodshot, and his face twisted into a leering mask. “Stop Jessica, Willow.”

I turn towards Jessica, who’s still trying to stop Kilgrave’s dad, and lunge at her, suddenly back under Kilgrave’s power. I slam into her and she grunts, tossing me back into the water. I get up again and she grabs my arm, throwing me towards the metal wall. I hear a sharp crack, and my left arm suddenly seizes in pain. I blackout for a moment, and wake in the pool of water.

Where’s Jessica? Where did she go?

Trish is sobbing on the floor, still trying to put the bullet through herself. My arm throbs.

I stand, just as the doors at the end of the hallway open. I run for the doors and barrel into Jessica, who grabs me. I’m jittering with energy, my hands vibrating like they did in that incident a few weeks ago. It’s that power. Kilgrave wants me to use whatever it takes to stop--

“Hey, Willow, kiddo, snap out of it,” she says. “Whatever he told you to do—”

“I have to stop you,” I say, struggling, thrashing around, even with my broken arm. I have to do this.

She grabs my shoulders and holds me there. “Look I’m stopped, okay? You did it. You did what he said.”

The spell is broken. She’s right. Okay. I stop fighting, my breath ragged, and my mind flooding with that what-ifs if Kilgrave had asked me to do something else instead. I then remember the carnage left behind in the other room. “Jessica, Trish is—”

Jessica hears Trish crying now, too, and runs into the room. “Trish! Stop that. Stop that.”

“I have to put a bullet in my head,” says Trish.

I take a moment to ignore the pain in my arm and run after Jessica. When I get there, Jessica is comforting Trish. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

The detective enters behind me, his hand bleeding and mangled. “Is anything broken?” Jessica asks us.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” says the detective.

“Uh…” I start. I dare to look down at my arm for the first time, and the angles are all wrong. All fucked up looking. “Shit.”

“Oh my God,” says Trish when she sees my arm. “You need to see a doctor. What—how did this…?”

“Kilgrave told me to stop Jessica,” I say.

“I told you to leave,” Jessica tells me. “Why did you—”

“I couldn’t leave you guys, okay?” I say. “I couldn’t.”

While the others debate whether to call an ambulance for the parents or not, and how to preserve the evidence, I pull out my phone from my pocket. The screen is cracked, and I scroll through a ton of messages from Marty before texting him back.

>Willow: Everything is fine. I’m fine. I’m with Jessica Jones and Hogarth. I’ll explain later.

I try not to cry, but my arm hurts, and I need to get it fixed soon, before it starts healing on its own, and healing wrong. Kilgrave’s dad wakes up and they bind him with duct tape to stop him from harming himself further. Jessica heads for the door. “I’m going to find you psychotic son.”

“Jess, wait!” says Trish, running after her. “You’ll lose. I’ve seen how powerful he is now. A couple words and you’re his weapon.”

“He can’t control me anymore,” Jessica says.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s time to get realistic,” says Trish.

“No, Trish,” says Jessica. “he said let go and I didn’t. I’m free.” She looks back at me. “Will you take Willow and Dad to his motel. Stay with him until the command wears off. Get… I don’t know… something to fix her arm. I’m going to find out where Kilgrave went.”