#it was already hard enough to just work 40 hours this week and pretend I was okay

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

Everything is so hard right now.

[hebimoonlightwrites]

hello, how are you?, I would like to place an order for paradox live, this is something I was thinking, platonic headcanons for bae with a fem reader who sings beautifully like a mermaid~ but she only sings as a hobby, that would be all, I'm glad to find you blog uvu

Writer's corner: Hi!! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Thank you so much for having requested! You're my very first request and I'm so happy about it! Here! Hope I've written something you like! Enjoy! ♥

Warnings: none

⋆𝓑𝓐𝓔⋆ 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝓫𝓫𝔂

⋆Let's just imagine that you're cleaning the café you're working part-time in. There's no one, except for you and your dear broom, which seems to wait for you. It would be the perfect time for listening to music, no? You would open the café in an hour, so you could relax a little bit more until then.

⋆You'd turn the radio on, trying to keep the volume down, since it would be still 9:30 am. You'd take your dear broom and start sweeping around the tables.

⋆Even if the radio's volume would be still low, you'd probably let yourself go, maybe you'd take some dancing steps, closing your eyes and letting all those musical notes wrap you like a warm blanket in winter.

⋆You'd start singing aloud without even realising it. Your voice would sound magically, like that of a mermaid. The echo of the empty café would make your voice more beautiful than how it actually would be without it.

⋆"Uhm… Excuse me? Is it ope…open..?"

It would be around 9:40 am when Allen would show up at the café. We all know that he's used to start his classes at 10:00 am so I headcanon that he'd have breakfast around 9:30/9:40 am.

⋆"Wha-?", Allen wouldn't be able to speak after hearing your beautiful voice echoed in that empty café. What are you? A mermaid? An angel? You aren't human. You can't be a human. That voice you owns is a gift. It must be a gift. But why aren't you working using it? Why aren't you singing? He would wonder.

⋆You'd gasp, realising there's someone watching you but end up already knowing him, since it's BAE's MC Suzaku. You'd turn the radio off and approach him.

⋆"Uhm.. Good morning.. What can I get for you?", you'd ask, trying to behave normally and kinda forget what you were doing.

⋆Allen would stare at you for a moment, opening his eyes wide and trying to convince himself it was all real, that you had that angelic voice, that magnetic voice.

⋆"𝓦𝓸𝔀… 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵.."

⋆I think he would say to himself: “It’s incredible how she can control her own voice without any problem.. She can handle those high notes without any kind of effort! Amazing…!!”

⋆After that I headcanon that he would ask you to join him and maybe sing along with him, 'cause we know he's such a fan of people who actually sing divinely. So maybe you'd end up meeting him as well as other BAE's members and sing all together with them.

⋆Let’s pretend you’re working as a photographer’s assistant and that you’re supposed to wait for a young model to take some picture of. You’re kinda nervous, because it’s going to be the first time you take some pictures of a model all alone. Your manager, who’s also the professional photographer you’re working for, is absent and you have to do everything by yourself.

⋆It’d be pretty hard. Of course you have been a photographer’s assistant for a few weeks, but you’d think that that time isn’t enough to let you take some photos of a model ALONE.

⋆”I hope it’ll be fine..”, you’d sigh, setting everything ready for later.

⋆After some minutes, at around 3:40 pm, a blonde and tall guy would show up. You’d take some seconds but end up recognizing him as a member of BAE. Inside you’d like to scream happy and ask of getting an autograph from him, but actually you’d try to stay professional, as your manager would have already told you, and welcome him, telling him that the photographer is absent and that you’re the one who’s substituting him.

⋆”Your face looks red. Are you sure you’re alright, y/n-san?”, I headcanon he would tease you anyway. He’d realise what you’d think, and maybe also that you’re a fan of him, as well as of other BAE members.

⋆Hajun would surely show up with a suitcase full of clothes to wear during the photo session. He would also look for a table with some cosmetics on it. He can’t let a photographer take a picture of him if he’s not flawless, of course.

⋆The photo session would start calmly, as you’d grab that digital camera and look at Hajun through it. He’d pose elegantly, changing his clothes between each photos, his pink eyes focused on your hesitant movements.. It’s clear: he’d understand that you’re not confident enough yet.

⋆”Of course you look uncertain for being a professional photographer’s assistant, y/n-san.. You’re too clumsy!!”, he’d tease you as you’d almost fall, holding the camera, trying to move to the right to catch Hajun’s profile. We all know that Hajun is such a sadist person and, as such, sometimes he likes humiliating others (even if he cares about Anne and Allen, of course.)

⋆You’d chuckle nervously, trying to hide how his words would have hurt you in deep.

⋆After the session Hajun would ask you if he can use the studio’s bathroom for a quick shower. So he’d let you alone, while you’d work on choosing the best photos.

⋆That’s how you’d start singing, looking at the pictures. Singing was what you used to do only as hobby, enjoying imagining yourself on a stage, surrounded by people who’d love your voice and its many shapes. Its falsetto, its belting, its riffles...

⋆You’d not notice Hajun, who had kept listening to you since he had entered the bathroom. It’s not easy to amaze him, but I headcanon you’d manage to do it with your fantastic sweet but also powerful voice. Hajun himself owns a powerful voice (and we’ve seen it in BAE’s last song,“We are the future”), but...damn! You’re not joking either! Your voice is incredible too and Hajun can’t believe that he’d been rude to you before, saying you’re too clumsy for being a photographer!

⋆”Sorry for interrupting, y/n-san..”, he’d say, stopping you. You’d sorry to him for being loud and, maybe, for bothering (he’d be tired after some hours of posing for photos, no?). He’d just smile kindly.

⋆”You shouldn’t waste your time working here. 𝓞𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮, 𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓽𝓻𝔂.. It’s true, but... You’ve mistaken; you’re not an ordinary person, y/n-san.”

⋆You’d blush, embarrassed but only for a few seconds, until he’d say coldly:

⋆”Anyway I wanted to ask you if you were so gentle to pass me the shampoo I’ve got into my suitcase.. Thank you”

⋆Imagine that you’re studying at the same International Private University Anne, Hajun and Allen are attending. I headcanon that each building would have a staircase.. Perfect for singing, no? With so much echo that your voice would sound like that of a mermaid singing to a group of pirates.

⋆So one day you’d leave your classroom, after classes, and head towards the staircases. Finally your day has finished and now you can go back home.

⋆You’d reach the staircases and start going down them. You’d notice how echoed your steps are, as you’d look at your smartphone to check the time. You’d like to sing something there.. The staircases seem so magical and the fact that every breath is echoed would make you feel like wanting to sing so bad.

⋆You’d look around and down the stairs, checking if there’s someone else, then you’d start singing a part of your favourite song. It’d be like a beautiful dream.

⋆Too bad you wouldn’t notice Anne who is up that flight of stairs. They would open their eyes wide as you start singing, unable to say anything. Where does that voice come from? The heaven? They’d slowly go down the stairs only to find you, singing beautifully, keeping your eyes closed.

⋆They would open their month in surprise, even blushing because of your beauty. Your soft hair, your pink cheeks and your adorable lips, which are opening and closing during the singing.

⋆After a few seconds you’d see them and gasp, embarrassed. What the hell is wrong with you? Singing in a public building? What did you think would have happened?

⋆”I’m so sorry for interrupting you!!.. I was like called by your voice... Are you a mermaid or something? Do you take singing lesson, dear?”, they’d ask and, after that, if you’re a new emerging singer.

⋆”Actually... I sing as hobby.. I’m too shy for exhibitions...”, you’d answer them as they would look at you still shocked from before. Are you serious? You’re singing as hobby? Aren’t you lying? Anne would wonder, thinking to themselves.

⋆Then I headcanon that both of you would exit the University, planning on going shopping or hanging out together one day. Maybe they would also introduce you to Hajun and Allen, who’d surely kinda fangirl because of how talented you are.

⋆I think Anne would think something like: “Damn, y/n.. She should be a mermaid! No doubt! Her voice is.. I don’t even know how to describe it!”

⋆"Singing is a fundamental part of you, y/n. You should show it more..𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓫𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯!!"

©hebimoonlightwrites_tumblr Please, do not copy my contents nor repost it without my permission.

[hintofelation99]

Banned Item No. 23 Toothpaste.

Steph, Tim, and Jason sneak into Duke's room after patrol.

Duke, jumping out of bed half asleep but ready to fight: What the-

Steph: Shut up, it's important meeting time.

Duke: What are you-

Steph: Shhhhh!

Tim: Steph, what's going on, why'd you call us all here?

Steph: Well Timothy, I am so glad you asked. Remember the other night on the roof?

Jason: Yeah?

Steph: Remember the toothpaste?

Duke: Yeah?

Steph with a smirk: Timothy, would you like to explain what happened afterwards?

Tim, looking confused: Uhhh, I actually don't know what happened afterwards or during...

Steph, looking at Tim confused: What do you mean you don't know?!

Tim: I was very high and on day four of no sleep and cup ten of coffee. I have no clue what happened.

Steph, staring at Tim confused: You don't remember?

Tim: Uh... no?

Steph: Tim you bought a toothpaste company.

Tim: What?! No? I would notice that's a lot of paper work and legalities?!

Tim pulls out his phone and starts going through his email to figure out what he bought.

Tim: Oh. My. God.

Jason: What?

Tim: I bought the companies entire stock...

Duke, laughing: No way!

Tim: And I have a meeting on Monday to discuss buying the company...

Steph falls over laughing and gasping for air.

Tim: What am I going to do with 200,000 tubes of toothpaste?!?!

Jason and Steph smile wickedly.

Jason: Alfred's out of town.

Tim: Then who's-

Jason: We are Timmy, we are cooking dinner.

Steph: Sixteen hours until dinner. Let's see how much we can use by then.

-> December 8th 2:40 am <-

The after replacing every tube of toothpaste in the house with Batman toothpaste they head down to the kitchen.

Jason and Duke start drinking all the milk as Steph and Tim eat all the candy canes off the christmas tree. At the same time they're all taking the oreo cream out of all the oreos and boiling four giant pots of water.

Steph: The waters boiling!

Tim starts empting tubes into the boiling water as Duke stirs. Jason pulls out parchment paper and starts squeezing toothpaste on it in the shape of candy canes.

Duke: That's enough toothpaste Tim, we don't want it thicker than whole milk.

They let the tooth paste water mix, that now looks like milk, cool and Duke washes out the milk jugs. Tim is putting toothpaste between the oreos. And Jason puts the toothpaste covered parchment paper in the freezer.

Steph: Hey if we any left over milkpaste pass it to me, I wanna make a marinade for tonight's chicken.

Duke fills the empty milk cartons with the mixture now dubbed 'milkpaste' and passes the leftovers to Steph.

Jason starts pulling random containers out of the fridge and moving whatever's in them to different containers. Then he fills the newly emptied containers with toothpaste. Butter, mayo, mustard, yogurt, etc are all replaced with toothpaste.

This chaos goes on for hours. No one else in the family wakes up or notices anything. At one point they call Cass, who's in Hong Kong, and she gives them even more horrible ideas.

-> December 8th 9am <-

Jason and Tim redecorate the christmas tree with candy canes made from toothpaste.

-> December 8th 11am <-

Bruce, from his bathroom: WHAT HAPPENED TO MY TOOTHPASTE?!

Dick, from his room: OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING!

Damian, from the hallway: I WILL KILL WHOEVER WENT INTO MY BATHROOM!!

-> December 8th 12pm <-

Jason, smirking: Hey, B.

Bruce: Yes Jason.

Jason: Well, Tim, Steph, Duke, and I have all been working on dinner all day.

Bruce: You have, and I thank you all for that. I'm very excited for dinner.

Jason: Me too, but the thing is we have a lot of extra food. So I was thinking we could invite the extended family and maybe some of the JL.

Bruce: Jason I don't know, it's so last minute and-

Dick: Just sent out a group text, they're all coming!

Jason, trying not to look suspicious: Thanks Dick! -> December 8th 6pm <-

The entire Batfamily, their partners, their closest friends, and the main members of the Justice League sit down for dinner.

Clark: Mmm, smells... minty?

Steph bites her hand to stop herself from laughing.

Wally: Tastes... fine, a bit... refreshing?

Jon, choking on his milk: Um, I think this milk is... expired?

Tim is biting his lip so hard trying not to laugh that it almost starts bleeding.

Roy: It's, uh, interesting? What spices did you say you used?

Kon is hiding his face behind a napkin trying not to gag. Hal left the room five minutes ago, his pockets suspiciously full.

Bart, already on his third helping: I like it! The toothpaste was a great idea!

Duke laughs so hard he falls out of his chair. He tries to cover it up by pretending he dropped something.

Bruce, who hadn't said anything and was trying not to criticize his kids cooking starts to choke: THE WHAT?!

Hal walks back in, face bright red. At the same time Tim slips from the room without anyone noticing.

Bruce: What happened.

Hal: Nothing! Unless you count me clogging your toilet by trying to flush an entire meal down it and then flushing repeatedly until the bathroom floods as something.

Bruce runs to try and unclog the toilet. Jason's face is basically glowing red from how hard he's trying not to laugh.

Kori, looking into the living room at their christmas tree: I believe your festive plant is... melting?

Everyone looks to the christmas tree to see the now thawed toothpaste canes dripping globs of minty freshness all over the tree and floor around it.

Oliver: Is that... toothpaste?

Duke can't control himself anymore, he starts laughing loudly as Tim walks back into the room.

Damian narrows his eyes at Tim: Where did you go?

Tim just smirks: You'll see later.

-> The next few weeks <-

Over the next few weeks toothpaste is found everywhere, from hair gel to pillow cases to shampoo, it's even found in a light fixture. This all results in a very stern lecture from Alfred and in toothpaste being banned from family dinners.

-----

also thanks @timdrakeisaclownbaby for showing me boiled toothpaste.

<- Previous |

<- The Hours Before the Disastrous Dinner |

[forever-rogue]

I got a whole 4 hours of sleep today and have to pull a 12 hour shift. So I apologize if it doesn’t make sense, I am new to the Bucky fandom!

I like the idea of his grumpy, refusing to let anyone in, be slowly ground down by reader, but teeters back and forth until reader is in some sort of trouble. Then the flood gates of vulnerability open because he was worried about them. I mean he hasn’t been with anyone since the 40s right? Would he still know how to navigate caring about someone in that way? I don’t know. It was something that has been buzzing around in my head for a week.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: langauge, vague description of sex (minors dni!)

BUCKY MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d started out as neighbors - nothing more and nothing less. 

Neighbors turned into causal acquaintances, fueled by your constant baking and copious amounts of goodies. Casual acquaintances turned into friends that would spend an occasional evening watching television together. Friends quickly turned into best friends that became utterly inseparable....with the occasional hook-up. You were hesitant to call it friends with benefits because that just sounded so crass. It was more like best friends with the occasional stress relief.

Stress relief. Sure that worked.

None that you wouldn’t have minded more of course. But you weren’t about to make a move on James Buchanan Barnes and ask him out on a date. No, you knew your place and his. He was physically akin to a god, mixed in with a bit of fuck boy, and yet...you loved him. You’d fallen hard and fast for the man that had gone from a mere stranger to a welcome and comfortable part of your life. But you’d never tell him that. 

No, nope, hell no. Bucky surely didn’t reciprocate your feelings and you’d never been the type to make a move first. 

Besides that...Bucky didn’t exactly strike you as a relationship type of guy. You’d seen him here and there with a girl or two, but it wasn’t anything serious. And since the two of you had started hooking up, you’d never noticed anyone else. And you hadn’t been with anyone else either. It was akin to a non-exclusive exclusive not-really-a-relationship relationship. Neither of you pushed it any further - you both accepted dates here and there but they never amounted to anything. Wonder why?

Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want a relationship - he did. He did very much with you. But he just...there was something about being a one hundred and six year-old man that just left him confused and worried. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to date much and now that he had the time it reminded him of just how different things were. Dating was this weird confused jumble, but you were a clear and obvious bright spot. He had his doubts that you’d ever want anything more from him. He knew what he was - a mostly stable old man with a body that people seemed to enjoy. He made the most of that - it didn’t seem like people were interested in getting to know him much these days. 

But you did - you always did. And, gods, he’d fallen hard for you - the kind of love that makes your stomach churn and heart feel like bursting and steals your breath away no matter how long it’s been. But what the fuck would you want with him? He’s a fossil with a boatload of mental trauma and even more sass and attitude.

You deserved the world and he only had himself to give. Of course, he was enough - way more than enough - but he didn't believe that. 

There had been numerous occasions when you'd tried to be honest, to confess your true feelings, but you'd always managed to fall short. Every time you got close, something came up. And after the last girl you'd seen him with, you vowed to take your secret to the grave. 

You had come close though - so close - especially the last time you'd hooked up.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were under Bucky, both of you naked and panting as you quickly approached your highs. He was buried deep inside you, head dropped to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nipping and biting at the delicate skin. 

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in order to hold him close. One of your hands was laced together with his while the other was wrapped around his neck. There was something so perfectly harmonious about how you always were together. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, James, James, James as he kept going. It was the only time you called him anything but Bucky. As your vision had grown hazy and you felt that familiar warm start to blood your veins, you’d let your true feelings slip. It was so easy, so effortless and in the moment it just...happened.

I love you. 

The declaration hung in the air as you felt your walls clamp around him and he reached his own eyes. That’s when you’d realized what you’d done. This time it was an entirely different sensation radiating throughout your bones - terror. Utter terror.

But if Bucky had heard your three little words he made no mention of them. Relief washed over you as you came to the conclusion that he was just as wrapped up in his own blissful haze that he simply hadn’t heard you. You were safe this time - but you’d have to be extra cautious from here on out.

Oh, but Bucky had heard you. Loudly and clearly. He chose to ignore your words because he was positive that he hadn’t heard you incorrectly. Surely you hadn’t meant to say that - and more importantly, it was a mistake. As much as he loved hearing those words from your pretty lips, he knew it was either an accident or a figment of his imagination. 

You both pretended that nothing had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky rolled his eyes lightly as he watched his phone light up with a call from Sam. He was half tempted to ignore it but decided to answer anyway; he was bored and the call might lead to something to do. You’d normally be hanging out with him on a Friday night, but his calls and texts had gone unanswered.

“Hey man,” Bucky picked up the call and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, “what’s up?”

“You need to get to the hospital,” Sam was speaking so quickly that it all came out in a single slew of words as Bucky’s brows knitted together.

“I know I don’t have a lot going on this Friday night, but I think I’m okay,” he snorted as he opened the bottle and took a swig.

“No, no, no,” Sam interrupted by almost whispering your name, “there’s been an accident. She was hurt and taken to the ER. I was on the phone with her when it happened - just come. Now.”

Bucky didn’t even wait for Sam to finish before he dropped the beer and ran out the door. His whole body felt like it was growing numb and the only thing on his mind was you. You couldn't be hurt...you just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t imagine any sort of reality in which you weren’t there. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as he ran into the hospital, seeking out the emergency room, he was asking about you. He looked probably just as crazy as he felt as he was nervously directed to your room. He almost jogged down the hall and into your small space. Sam stood at the end of your bed, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky could barely bring himself to look at you as you laid on the small bed, looking so helpless and fragile. You were sleeping, sedated from lots of heavy drugs, but hooked up to several beeping machines. Your arm was in a cast already, bruises and contusions and cuts littered every bit of your skin that he could see. His heart plummeted into his stomach. 

“She was crossing the street and got hit by a car that didn’t slow down enough in time,” Sam’s heavy was heavy as he rubbed at his tired, “I heard it all happen, Buck. It was terrible - but she’s strong. She’s going to be okay. No internal damage, luckily, but she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. The arm’s broken.”

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed as Sam nodded.

“I called her parents and they’ll be here soon. She’s just sleeping but hopefully will wake up soon.”

“Okay,” Bucky took a hesitant step closer.

“She asked for you,” Sam hadn’t been sure if he should have confessed that little part or not, “when they were bringing her in. Kept repeating your name. You should just tell her, you know. She’s obvious she feels the same. Don’t be idiots.”

“Thanks,” Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically as the two men shared a quick laugh before Sam hugged him, “I’ll stay here if you want to go. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you for calling me.”

“I got you man,” Sam gave him a half smile, “call me if you need anything at all...or if anything happens.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as his friend left, Bucky came over to you, his fingers grazing the side of the small, horrid looking bed. He was going to help you however you needed it for however long it would take till you were better and out of pain. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t ever leave your side again.

This whole time he’d been so dumb, so silly. He should have just told you how he left - a long time ago and gotten over himself. A heavy sigh escaped him as you pulled up the uncomfortable plastic chair and took a seat next to you.

He gently, ever so delicately reached for the hand that was in the cast and held it in his. It almost made him laugh with how much smaller your hand was than his. They fit perfectly together.

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, wondering when you’d wake up. He hoped soon - so he could finally tell you all of those unspoken words. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“James?” a croaky, dry voice met his ears as his tired eyes snapped open. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision before focusing on you. You were looking back at him with a tired, sleepy little smile on your features. You looked beautiful, so damn beautiful, despite the blues and purples painting your skin, “what are you doing here?”

He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He was still holding your hand. He beamed back at you, “hi pretty girl. Sam called me and told me what happened. I came right over.”

“I’m anything but pretty right now,” you laughed lightly but quickly grimaced at the pain, “how long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday evening,” he confessed quickly, “I didn’t want to leave - wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh Bucky,” there was that saccharine little smile on your face. The same one he loved so much, “you didn’t have to. I...I really fucked up movie night, huh?”

“I’m in love with you.”

He finally got those damn words out before he could change his mind or think too much about it. Your face immediately lit up with a grin as you searched his cerulean eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” you asked softly as he nodded, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks.

“Of course.”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he whispered as he leaned closer to you, “because I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl. Not now, not ever.”

“I don’t want you to, Bucky,” you promised, “I want you with me always.”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[babymetaldoll]

Baby Reid (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes

Matthew x reader, his wife (the reader) goes into labor, and the next story is the same thing but spencer Reid x reader.

A/N: This was fun to write! tomorrow I’ll post MGG’s story

Summary: Spencer Reid is about to be a father, and he can't stop thinking about everything that could go wrong.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 2K

Warning: I curse like a sailor

Masterlist

You can also read Baby Gubs

.

That was it. It was the moment (Y/N) and Spencer had been waiting impatiently for the last couple of weeks. Being pregnant was the most amazing experience of her life; (Y/N) still couldn't believe she was carrying a little baby Reid inside her. But after 40 weeks, she wanted it to end. It was time to have that baby.

But baby Reid wasn't ready to face the real world just yet, and their little princess was three days late after the due date. The doctor had told the couple if it passed from Sunday, they would do a c-section. Lucky for (Y/N), that Friday afternoon, baby Reid decided it was time.

(Y/N) was all alone, reading a book, lying on her bed, enjoying a big bowl of chocolate ice cream, when suddenly, it happened. Her water broke. She had been feeling contractions for the last hour, but after three false alarms, she wasn't concerned at all until she felt her legs all wet.

Trying to remain calm, she grabbed her phone and dialed Spencer's number. Aaron knew they were about to be parents and had given Reid only desk duty those last couple of weeks so that he could be there for the birth of his daughter, Helena Reid.

- "Hey Buttercup, how are you?"- Reid was swamped in paperwork when he received his wife's call- "I was about to go out for lunch with Penelope."

- "I think you might like to reschedule that"- (Y/N) smiled for a second until a powerful contraction left her speechless for a moment.

- "Why? what is it?"

- "Your daughter decided to come and meet us. This time it's for real."- Spencer's heart stopped, and his hand started shaking immediately.

- "Are you sure?"- he whispered and closed his eyes. He was about to have a panic attack, but he had to remain calm. He had to, no matter what, for the sake of his wife. So, he did his best and talked to her in the most soothing voice possible.

- "Yes, honey. My water just broke"- Reid's heart stopped again.

- "H... ho... how often are the contractions?"- Spencer cleared his throat and packed all his things as fast as he could, considering he was too nervous to remember what to put in his satchel.

- "Every eight minutes."

(Y/N) knew Spencer was freaking out. He told her he was mentally prepared for that moment, and he would be a rock for her. But she knew better. Spencer could pretend to be calmed, but deep inside, he was going to be hyperventilating.

- "I'm on my way, give me a second"- he stood up and bumped into Penelope- "Garcia, I can't have lunch with you. (Y/N) is in labor! I have to take her to the hospital."

Penelope wide opened her eyes and started hyperventilating immediately.

- "Is that her on the phone?"

- "Yes! I have to go now."

- "I love you, munchkin!!"- Garcia yelled- "I'll see you at the hospital, I'll tell the team, they were on their way back from New York"- Spencer nodded and ran to the elevator.

- "I'm here, buttercup. Keep talking to me, ok?"

- "Ok... so... tell me about your morning."

- "It was boring. Nothing exciting happened until I found out I'm about to be a dad."

(Y/N) smiled and tried to concentrate on her breathing, keeping it as slow and relaxed as she could.

- "Are you ok?"- he asked, so concerned and excited he forgot which way to go to get to his car. He had started driving to work when they got pregnant, in case of any emergency.

- "Yes, just breathing... I can't stop thinking, do we have everything we need?"

- "Yes, don't worry, babe. We are ready,"- Spencer reassured. Those words were not just for her, but also for him too- "How is the pain?"

- "On a scale from one to ten? Like a four. I can deal with it until we get to the hospital."

.

Spencer drove as fast as he could, trying to think like Morgan behind the wheel. He had argued against the way he drove for years, and now, Reid was doing exactly everything he had disagreed with.

- "I'm parking outside"- he announced his wife, but she didn't reply- "(Y/N), babe..."

- "I'm here"- she whispered- "Pain is starting to go from four to six very quickly."

- "It's ok; it's ok. I'm almost there."

Reid opened the door of their apartment and ran to their bedroom. (Y/N) had taken the bedsheets and was now trying (and failing) to put clean sheets in it.

- "No, buttercup"- Spencer nearly yelled and stopped her- "Leave that, come on, let's go."

- "Sorry, I just didn't want to leave the bed with..."

- "It's ok, I'll take care of that later. It doesn't matter"- (Y/N) felt his arms around her waist as they walked towards the door. That's when she stopped and squeezed his hand.

- "Breath, buttercup, you are doing awesome."

- "Shit, they are getting worse"- she mumbled and tried to think of anything else- "The bag is in the car?"

- "Yes. And we'll call your midwife and your parents from the car."

(Y/N) nodded and started walking again, but stopped all of a sudden.

- "Wait, come here"- she tugged his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck- "You are gonna be a dad, Spencer"- and the smile that appeared on his face was enough to light a whole city.

- "I love you so much, buttercup"- he kissed her lips sweetly and sighed- "You are incredible."

- "Remember that in case I turn into a monster when the pain gets worse"- she smiled and felt his lips on hers again.

- "Noted."

.

After six hours in labor, (Y/N) was turning into a monster. She was uncomfortable and in pain, and baby Reid had decided to take her time.

Spencer had prepared for months for that moment. He kept everything you might imagine in his car that could help (Y/N) be comfortable during the whole labor process. Spencer had to be ready whenever the moment came. He played her favorite playlist, and he gave her tummy massages with essential oils to help her relax. Nothing was working, but he meant well.

He had read every book about parenthood he could find. And though he was more than prepared for that moment, he was too scared and worried to think straight.

.

- "Come on, Helena"- Spencer kept talking to the tummy and held his wife's hand as she tried to get some rest- "Your mom and I want to meet you"- the hard grip on his hand let him know his wife was in the middle of a contraction. They were every three minutes now.

- "We'll only have one kid,"- (Y/N) whispered, and Spencer smiled. He moved closer and kissed her temple- "I know we said we wanted three babies, but one is all I can take."

- "You know, many women often claim to forget all the pain of labor after giving birth. It's called the 'Halo effect'"

- "We'll see if that theory is real soon, I hope."

.

Spencer was trying to soothe her, though someone should be calming him too. He was scared anything could go wrong. Statistics were hunting his mind the whole time. If something went wrong, if something happened to his wife and daughter, he would lose his mind.

- "How is she?"- Penelope asked Reid when he appeared in the waiting room. The rest of the team was there, waiting for the news.

- "Tired. It's been six hours already"- he sighed and closed his eyes- "I feel so useless! there's nothing I can do to help her!"

- "Come on, Spence"- JJ rubbed his arm and smiled at him, trying to calm him down- "There's a lot of things you can do to make her feel better."

- "I know, but I'm scared of everything that might go wrong."- Reid confessed and sat next to Morgan- "What if..."

- "No"- Derek stopped him and tapped on his back a couple of times, as a way to shake those thoughts away from his head- "There's no room for "what if" today, pretty boy. No overthinking and no statistics. You have to be a rock for your wife, ok?"

Spencer widened his eyes, looking at Derek, and nodded. He knew his friend was right. It wasn't time to be scared. It was the time to support his wife, no matter what.

.

- "Ok, Mrs. Reid, let's see if you are ready"- the midwife walked in and smiled at (Y/N). She turned to her husband, who stared at her in a weird mix of excitement and panic.

- "Ok, mom,"- the midwife said, happily- "Are you ready to push?"

- "Fuck!!"- though (Y/N) had already the epidural, the pain was excruciating- "Let's do this."

While (Y/N) and her midwife were looking for a comfortable labor position, Reid took a step back and tried to breathe calmly. All the stories of birth going wrong were coming to his mind at the same time. What if the baby came in the wrong position? What if his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck? What if (Y/N) bleed too much? What if her pelvis was too small?

- "Spencer!!"- he heard her yell suddenly, reaching out her hand to him- "I need you."

Those three words were the most powerful he had ever heard before. He held his wife's hand and kissed her forehead.

- "I'm here, I'm with you. Forever, ok?"- (Y/N) nodded and bit her lips tight- "Breath, baby, just breath."

- "I'm trying!!"

- "Come on, Mrs. Reid... on three, you can do this!! one, two..."

Spencer counted along with the midwife and held (Y/N)'s hand tight each time she had to push. He wished there was anything else he could do to make her feel better. If Reid could, he would go through the whole process instead of her, only to keep her from being in pain. He couldn't believe his wife was going to make him a dad. It was his whole life's dream, and now, it was about to happen.

- "I can see her head! Just two more pushes! come on!!"

- "I can't"- (Y/N) sighed and closed her eyes, exhausted- "I can't do this, I'm too tired."

Spencer carefully pressed a wet towel on her forehead and kissed her temples.

- "You can do this, buttercup, one more time."- he whispered in her ear.

- "I can't, honey... it's too hard."

- "I know it's hard, and I wish you didn't have to go through all this. But I know you are strong, stronger than me, by far."- Spencer held and kissed her hand. (Y/N) took a deep breath and made her best to push as hard as possible.

- "One more time!! Just one more time, Mrs. Reid"- the midwife said. Spencer kept his eyes locked on his wife and brushed sweetly the hair that covered her face. She looked at him and nodded, closed her eyes, and pushed one last time.

The crying of a newborn had never sounded so sweet. Spencer saw in slow motion how the midwife took his little daughter and placed it on (Y/N)'s chest. He couldn't move. He just looked at that scene with teary eyes, feeling his chest swelling with love.

- "She's so tiny"- (Y/N) whispered- "Hello, Helena, I'm your mommy, and he is your daddy. He loves you so much"- Spencer's chin quivered, and in a second, he was crying. There he was with his family. His wife and his baby. Everything he had ever dreamt of.

Spencer leaned in slowly, kissing his daughter's head carefully.

- "You are incredible"- he whispered to his wife and kissed her too- "I didn't think it was possible, but now I actually love you even more. You just gave me a family."

- "I'd give you everything you ever ask me, Spencer Reid"- she answered and kept her eyes on their newborn- "Just don't ask now, 'cos I'm a little tired..."- Reid smiled and shook his head.

- "With you two here, I've got everything I'll ever need."

[fybillielourd]

I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.

[auburnaudry]

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 1:

A/N: So this is the first time I have ever written literally anything. If you have any suggestions or feedback just let me know! I kinda want to make this a series, so if you are interested or have any suggestion on where to take this story I’m all ears!

Next Chapter —>

Summary: You and Matthew had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated. (Flashbacks are in italics.)

Word count: 3293 words

It was really late at night and you just wanted to get your son to sleep. Him being only 3 months old, it was hard to get a consistent sleep schedule going, especially when you were sharing custody with someone who lives a completely different lifestyle than you.

After spending two nights with his father, your sons usual 10 minute bedtime routine turned into a long, drawn out, difficult ordeal, that you would be trying to correct for the next week. And once he was finally adjusted back to your routine, he was off to stay with his father again to continue the never ending cycle.

You rocked Reign in his chair for almost 40 minutes and finally settled him down enough to lay him back in his crib. You reached over to the changing table and turned the sound machine on, hoping that it would put him to sleep for even just a little while. You needed a break from the loud crying.

Walking over to the dresser sitting by the door, you grab the baby monitor and walked out towards the kitchen.

You mindlessly stared at your phone as you made your way down the hall. Distracted by your new notifications, you hadn’t noticed the handsome young man still sitting at your island waiting for you to return.

“Y/n/n”

“Oh my god, Matthew you scared me” you shouted, dropping your phone as your body jumped slightly from the shock of seeing someone unexpected in your apartment.

“I thought you left already, what are you still doing here” you continued as you picked your phone up off the ground, checking to make sure the screen wasn’t cracked.

You were caught off guard and slightly confused because Matt always left right after dropping your son off. You two had an arrangement that worked, minimal interaction that only revolved around your son. So when Matt was still lingering around your apartment almost and hour after dropping your son off, you couldn’t help but let your mind travel to the worst case scenario.

“Did something happen today with Reign?” You asked before he had a chance to respond to your first question.

You and Matt had a long history, dating for two years, until you guys “mutually” decided to split. It was civil-ish and seemed liked the best option at the time. But shortly after splitting, you found out you were pregnant with Reign and everything in your life, including your relationship with Matt, became more complicated.

“You should have been honest with me from the start then” you screamed at your boyfriend. You had been arguing for what felt like forever with no end in sight.

“I didn’t know what I wanted at the time y/n” he calmly responded “Fuck, I still don’t even know what I want, but I know its not fair to you, to keep going the way we are”. You two had been talking about where you see your relationship going in the future and this was the first time Matthew was really opening up to you.

As much as you begged Matt to express his emotions more over the course of your relationship, this time you wished he had kept them to himself.

“Y/n, you want to take the next step in this relationship and I’m not ready. I don’t know why I’m not ready but you are and I can’t hold you back.” Matthew sounded so sincere that you almost believed this was what you wanted too. “You need someone who is gonna take that step with you” key word was almost.

The past couple of weeks you had been hinting that you wanted to move in with Matt. You loved him and were sure you wanted to start the next chapter of your life with him. You never thought in a million years this would be his reaction but maybe you pushed him too much? Or maybe this was inevitable and he wasn’t looking at you as a long term investment. Whatever the reason, you now regretted even bringing it up.

“Okay, so two years down the drain I guess” you said as you rolled your tear filled eyes. His face fell at your words, he truly did love you and just wanted you to be happy. You were looking for forever and he admitted to not being ready for that kind of commitment. Instead of continuing a relationship that seemed to be at a stand still, the only option at this point was to end it. You weren’t going to sit there and beg him, you had too much pride to do that.

“I’ll just pack my shit and go” you walked past him to his bedroom to collect all the things that no longer belonged in his space. You almost expected him to follow after you, to fight for your relationship, but he didn’t, which hurt your heart even more. So you continued to pack up the things that had migrated from your apartment to his over the two years of being together. Your thoughts were now consumed with figuring out how you were going to move on and find someone to spend the rest of your life with, while he continued to live the bachelor lifestyle he was all so famous for.

Even though you rarely voiced it in your two years of being together, you were madly in love with him and broken hearted that he wasn’t willing to put in the effort to make your relationship work. You left his bedroom and made your way down the hallway, past the living room where Matthew was still sat, and out the front door with your bags in tow. You didn’t bother glancing back at him, out of fear you might do or say something you would regret.

2 weeks later…

You woke up and still hadn’t gotten your period. Your period had never been even a day late since you got it back in the 7th grade, so waking up for a 4th day in a row with no period, was worrisome. You didn’t think there was even a chance you were pregnant since you were on birth control, so you made an appointment with your gyno to ensure everything was okay. You were convinced it was just the stress of your recent breakup that was causing this irregularity in your cycle, but you couldn’t be sure without getting checked out first.

...

You pulled up to your doctors office for your appointment feeling extremely anxious. You just wanted to get it over with so you could stop stressing and go back to feeling sorry for yourself for getting broken up with.

You sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. You scrolled through Instagram and somehow found yourself on Matthew’s page. It was definitely an unhealthy habit you had picked up since splitting. You couldn’t help it though, he was following new ig models everyday and in a sick way, you liked to compare yourself to them. It was a reminder that you weren’t what Matt wanted and Matt couldn’t be what you wanted anymore.

“y/n y/l/n” you looked up from your phone as your name was called “We’re ready for you”

You followed the nurse back to a bathroom located right next door to the exam room you usually got checked out in. The nurse handed you a cup to pee in, as you usually did at these types of appointments, and instructed you to change into a gown in exam room #2 once you finished up in the bathroom.

After you changed into the gown, the nurse came back to collect your sample and left you sitting on the exam table as you scrolled on your phone again, waiting for Dr. Cooper to come in.

“Y/n, congratulation you’re pregnant” Dr. Cooper walked in holding your charts. You had been going to Dr. Cooper since you were 16 and you had built a nice relationship through the years, talking about your personal lives and future plans during appointments. He was aware of your long term relationship with Matthew and by his enthusiastic tone and happy energy, it was clear that he was unaware of your recent breakup. You obviously didn’t expect him to know, the breakup was new and you only see him a couple times out of the year.

You couldn’t even process the news or anything else Dr. C had to say after that. Everything went fuzzy and it felt like you were in some crazy nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. The only thing you did hear him say was that he expected you to be 8 weeks along from the information you told him and the ultrasound he performed.

You were a traditional person and always imagined you would be married or at least in a committed relationship before getting pregnant, so this entire situation had you in shock.

You were so numb from the news that you continued on throughout your day as normal, unsure of what else to do. But as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building, you rushed to get inside so you could finally breakdown and feel everything you had pushed aside for the past few hours.

You were silently praying your roommate wasn’t home when you walked through the door of your shared apartment so you didn’t have to face anyone. To your dismay, she was sitting in the living room calling for you when you walked through the door.

You hadn’t told her that you and Matthew broke up because you were so ashamed that the man you thought you’d spend the rest of you life with , didn’t feel the same way for you. The past 3 weeks you had been pretending Matt was away on a road trip or too busy with hockey to hang out whenever she asked about him. At this point you needed to get this off you chest so you walked right into the living room, sat down next to her, and unloaded the entire story before she even had the chance to say hello. As you spoke, her face turned from confusion to concern.

“Kay idk what to do, I don’t even want to tell him because I don’t need his help, but i feel icky when I think about having his baby and keeping it a secret.” You guys were talking through what you were gonna do about the situation.

Kaylee was the perfect person to ask because she also knew Matthew really well! Kaylee was the one who introduced you to Matt in the first place almost 3 years ago. They continually ran into each other while out at bars and talked so often they eventually became good friends. Being Kaylees best friend, you were later introduced to Matthew at a bar and you guys hit it off right away. You became really close friends and later started dating after a typical drunk love confession.

“And you’re definitely sure it’s Matt’s? Like there’s no chance it’s someone else’s right?”

“Yes of course I haven’t talk to anyone since the breakup, let alone slept with anyone!”

“I just want to make sure cause you didn’t even tell me you guys broke up, I wasn’t sure if I was missing any other important parts of the story” she paused for a second giving you a sympathetic look. The father was indisputable since you had only been with one man in the last two years.

“he’s a good guy y/n/n, I think he will be really understanding and a good father, it’s important you tell him, him and his family would want to know” She was right, she always is.

Before your talk with Kaylee, you fully prepared yourself to raise the baby on your own and expected nothing from Matthew. But when you thought about his family, a family that you had become a part of in the two years you were together, you couldn’t help but think of how disappointed they would be if they ever found out that you kept a part of them a secret. You had become extremely close with Brady and Taryn and their parents treated you like one of their own. They loved you and would unconditionally love your child, it wasn’t fair to them and more importantly, it wasn’t fair to your baby to keep them apart.

...

After a week of thoroughly thinking through all your options, you finally took Kaylees advice and reached out to Matt. You almost hoped he wouldn’t see your message or he would see it and just ignore it since you two hadn’t communicated since the breakup.

Y/n:

Hey Matty, it’s y/n, I’m not sure if you have free time in the near future but I kinda need to talk to you!

To your surprised he responded within minutes of your text.

Matty:

I’m happy you reached out, lets meet up! Can you do lunch tomorrow? Our usual lunch spot?

This all seemed too familiar, why was he texting you like you had never broken up and why did he respond at all? He could have easily said he was busy or trying to move on and didn’t want to talk, but he didn’t.

Y/n:

I was actually thinking we could do takeout or something and eat at my apartment?

You figure a private setting would be better for the news you were about to spring on him since you weren’t sure of the reaction you were going to get.

Matty:

Anything works babe

He had practice the next morning and a free afternoon so it was the perfect opportunity to tell him, giving him time to process since he had nothing going on for the rest of the day.

Matthew walked up to your apartment door the next day giving it his signature knock. You slowly walked to the door, opening it to find him standing there, carrying the to-go bags, filled with your favorite meal and wearing his perfect smile that almost made you forget why you called him over in the first place.

As you went to greet him, you caught a slight whiff of the food and the nausea that washed over you was so sudden and instantaneous, you almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.

On your run to the bathroom, you heard Matt’s footsteps following closely behind, but luckily you had enough time to lock the bathroom door before emptying the contents of you stomach in the toilet.

Matthew sat outside the bathroom knocking lightly “y/n are you okay” he waited patiently for your response.

When you felt the wave of nausea had completely passed, you stood up, flushing the toilet and making your way to the sink to rid your mouth of the taste that plagued it.

As you opened the door to the bathroom you were met with Matt’s concern filled face. If throughout your lunch date you wanted to change your mind about telling him, that option was completely off the table now. You had no choice but to explain what was going on and you just wanted to get it over with.

Matthew stood there staring, waiting for a response. “I’m pregnant” was all you could come up with.

He stared at you in complete disbelief but then realization washed over his face. “Who’s the father” was all he could manage, as if you would invite him over to tell him you were pregnant with someone else’s kid.

You wanted to roll your eye but they were so full of tears, you were scared that if you moved them, the tears would start running and you would fall apart in front of him.

“Yours” you whispered with a cold tone trying your best to keep your emotions at bay.

Matthew had alway wanted to be a dad and was great with his teammates kids, so you weren’t entirely surprised when he told you he wanted to be a part of your kids life.

You two spent countless hours and had countless lunch dates over the course of your pregnancy, talking about how you were going to co-parent and make everything work. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t secretly wish that you and Matt would end up back together, raising the family you always dream of having, but it seemed that ship had sailed for Matthew. His only concern was making sure his kid lived a happy and healthy life.

You were now waiting for a response from your ex on why he was still sitting in your kitchen so late at night.

“No no, Reign is fine everything is fine, I just need to talk to you about something” he said, not making eye contact with you. You were even more nervous now because you had no guess as to what he could possibly want to talk about.

“I’m talking to this girl” your entire world stopped spinning and your ears started to ring a little. You still weren’t use to Matthew talking to other women, you probably wouldn’t be for a long time, and now he wanted to talk to you about one of his hoes?

“Ummm okay” you said, unsure how you were even suppose to respond. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Things between us are getting a little more serious” you could literally feel you heart aching in your chest, but you continued to act unfazed by Matt’s admission. “I was just wondering what the appropriate time would be to introduce her to Reign”

You were almost stunned that he was even asking you such a stupid question. If it were up to you, Reign was never going to meet some trashy whore his father would bang every once in a while. Your son was only 3 months old, so to think that introducing him to a random, clout chaser was even an option for Matthew, made you extremely angry. Or maybe you were just jealous he had been seeing someone and it had gotten so serious that he was willing to introduce her to his newborn son.

You can’t even describe the feeling of the love of your life breaking up with you because ‘he wasn’t ready for commitment’, and then not even a year later he is in a serious relationship again but with someone else. You couldn’t help but think everything Matthew had told you was a lie, that he wasn’t afraid of committing, he was just afraid of committing to you.

“Y/n/n, did you hear my question?”

“Obviously” you spat “I just have to think, I wasn’t exactly prepared for this kind of question tonight or honestly at any point in the near future so I need time to think about it” you were bitter but you tried your hardest to not make it seem that way as you spoke.

“Take all the time you need, no rush, we’re obviously new to this whole parenting and co-parenting thing so we don’t have all the answers yet, but I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” He finally made eye contact with you for the first time all night. You forgot how pretty his eyes were.

“Thanks for checking in with me, ill let you know when I figure it out” and with that he got up and made his way out of your apartment.

“Goodnight y/n” he said as he opened the front door and pulled his car keys out of his pocket.

“Night” you responded as you close the door behind him. Just as the door closed, Reign’s screams came over the baby monitor, distracting you before you had too much time to think about how alone you actually were.

[guardianofthepeanutwrites]

Skirts and dresses Part 3

Here is part 3 ! Part1, Part 2, Part 4 and Part 5

Tw: There is a discussion about someone being beaten for being gay in the 40s. It's not graphic, but if it triggers you, please do not read!

To my Neko and my Powerpuff Girls: I love you all! Many thanks to Gypsywoman13 for beta-reading and helping me with the moodboard. I think I’m getting better at them?

 Confused Steve

Peter looked at the two printed pictures Mr. Stark his dad had left on the desk in his room at the compound.

The pictures were old, probably around 30 years old, and the colors were a bit washed out, but Peter had no doubt the model was a young Tony Stark. It was also clear to Peter that both pictures had been taken on the spot; genuine moments of a younger Tony Stark’s life.

The first picture was Tony looking in a mirror, trying to put some make-up on; he was bent over the sink with his tongue poking out. Peter had to admit, even if it hurt him deeply, that the skirt did indeed do something sinful to his dad’s ass. Peter promised himself to not look at that picture ever again.

In the second picture was a younger version of the billionaire’s friend, James Rhodes. Rhodey, with his jeans and MIT sweatshirt, had one arm around Tony’s waist and a colored goblet in his other. Tony had a nice little white dress that Peter would never dare wear, but had suited Tony like a glove. The two were talking to each other and laughing quietly. 

They looked so happy; free. Peter brought the picture to his heart, knowing what the gift really meant. Those pictures would never be leaked by his dad because those are private little moments of Tony Stark’s youth. Some people would kill for the pictures, and Peter was going to keep them as one of his most treasured possessions. 

After Peter found a frame for the picture, it rejoined the last piece of his beloved skirt on his shelf.

--

Peter was not supposed to walk around the compound in his new purple dress, but most of the other Avengers were still on their last mission, Natasha wasn’t supposed to steal his change of clothes to go to an emergency debrief. Still, here Peter was, in his purple dress, trying to get back to his room before anyone could see him. 

However, Parker’s luck was a thing, sadly.

“Peter? What-” 

Peter felt dread sink in his stomach when he heard Steve Rogers’s voice call his name. Peter wanted to ignore the man, but he knew the Captain well enough to know that there was no point in doing that. Peter stopped walking and tried to brace himself before he turned with a smile on his face.

“Oh, hi, Steve. Fancy seeing you here?” Peter could tell that his smile was off, but he didn’t care. 

Steve was staring at Peter’s naked legs, frowning. “Peter, what are you wearing?” He sounded very confused like there hadn’t been any Drag Queens in 1940 that blew up Nazis while still wearing their fancy dresses.

“It’s a dress.” 

Some weeks ago, Peter would have been crying already, but Natasha, Pepper, and Tony’s support meant the world to Peter, and they had helped him be more confident.  So, Steve’s demeanor started to grate on Peter’s nerves. 

Steve’s frown only deepened. “But, Peter, men do not wear dresses! Those are for women.” Peter felt humiliation color his cheeks.

“They do, Captain. And even then, what I wear outside work is none of your business. Now, if you would excuse me...” Peter would never know how he managed to quit the scene calmy, but he would have cried if he hadn’t left the corridor fast enough.

Statistically, Peter knew that there would always be people who disapproved of who Peter was. Peter simply had hoped that no one on the team would be one of them.

The moment his door closed behind him, Peter collapsed.

--

Peter didn’t know how long he had stayed on the ground when someone knocked at the door he was still sitting against. Peter ignored the knocking and just let his head rest on his arms. His tears had stopped falling some hours ago and Peter had no energy left to give to anyone else.

Peter was startled when Steve started to talk at the other side of the door.

“Peter, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing. Could you let me in, please?” Peter closed his eyes hard, not answering. He heard Steve sigh, then a thump that made the door shake. Steve was now sitting on the other side of the door. “Ok, I get it. I was-Listen I have no excuse for what I said. I was wrong.” 

Peter could feel the tears falling down his cheeks again and hated it.

“I-The world changed a lot since I was your age, you know. It’s not that I am against men wearing dresses, it’s-” Steve sighed heavily. “I had this friend, his name was Bill. He never really fit the mold...I can see that now. It’s something that I have learned since living in this century, actually. Billy he...he loved men. And that was not something you could display back then.”

Peter’s breathing hitched; knowing where this was going. It still wasn’t easy to proudly be out, but it was nothing compared to what it used to be. 

“They...They found Billy beaten to a pulp. I-I knew Billy used to, you know, with Bucky, sometimes, and I got so scared for him. Again, it’s no excuse, but I just wasn’t as strong as Bucky. All I could do was make sure no one would know that Bucky liked gals and pals. I probably was an ass to him too, actually. I was always reminding him not to do this or not to wear that. So, today when I saw you in a dress...and Peter, you are part of the team, and of this family, and once again I felt scared.” Steve’s voice became very low at the end of his monologue. Peter probably wouldn’t have heard him, if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

Peter slowly stood and opened the door, making Steve fall on his back, surprised. Steve probably had been lost in memories of old friends while talking. Steve started to sit back up, when Peter let himself fall on his knees to hug Steve.

“I am sorry you had to live through that, and I understand your point of view, but next time, I will punch you.” Steve hugged him back, chuckling lightly. Peter couldn’t stop thinking how lucky they both were to be enhanced because they would have crushed the other if they weren’t.

“Don’t worry, if it ever comes to that, I think Nat and Tony will kill me first.” 

Peter frowned before he realized what Steve was telling him. His dad and Natasha had threatened Steve because he had made Peter cry.

“What- God, how do they even know?” Peter wanted to crawl in his bed and never leave it again. He was an adult for fuck’s sake, he didn’t need them to babysit him. 

“I think it was FRIDAY who told them, but I can’t be sure. But, hey, Pete...they were right, I was being an asshole. And I’m really so-” Steve wasn’t able to finish his explanation because, after breaking their hug, Peter put his hand on his mouth.

“It’s ok, let’s pretend this never actually happened, ok? It’s done, and I’m sure it won’t happen again, will it?” Peter simply lifted one eyebrow like he had seen Nat and his dad do hundreds of times.

“No, well, I mean, I was born a long time ago...Maybe you could explain to me some things that I don’t understand? Educate me, I guess? ” Steve looked self-conscious about asking that while he massaged his neck with his left hand.

“I would be honored to bring the great Captain America up to date to the modern world.” Peter winked, cheekily, before he got back to his feet and helped Steve to do the same.

Steve groaned something that sounded suspiciously like the word ‘brat’. But Steve would never dare... so, Peter must have misunderstood.

“Oh, before you leave, can I ask you a question?  Does Bucky really like men and women?” Steve rolled his eyes and, with a pat on Peter’s shoulder, simply left the room.

--

Somewhere in the compound, later that night, Bucky punched Steve for making Peter cry, even if he had absolutely no idea what had happened. Steve refused to tell.

--

Thank you to everyone that leaves a comment or a heart !

@starkeraddictbaby

If you want to be tagged for the next part, please DM me or leave a comment

[wizkiddx]

Nothings changed at all

ooh my first lil one  shot on here?!?! not really sure how I feel abt this one but hey ho we move.

summary: 2 years have passed with 2 people living completely separate lives. That’s until Paddy the matchmaker gets involved by not liking exams.

“Y/n?…. Y/n?” Brought out of her ferocious typing, Y/n dragged her attention away from the screen infant of her and looked around the coffee shop to identify the owner of the voice. Sure enough, standing opposite her was an adult and teen who both smiled excitedly at her.

“Nikki! Pads!” Y/n exclaimed while she jumped out of her seat to hug Nikki first, then Paddy. “Wow it’s been ages! You want to join me?”

“Yeh that’d be great!” Nikki smiled already pulling out the free chair opposite, while Paddy stole a chair from a nearby vacant table and pulled it up next to Y/n.

“God you look so grown up since I last saw you!” Nikki grinned, but her eyes held a little surprise making Y/n giggle. It had been at least 2 years since she’d seen the Hollands, and life had changed tremendously for her.

“Yeh well 24 and a qualified doctor now so it’s all happened. But speaking of… what the hell have you done with my fake baby brother Paddy?”

The three spent 40 minutes just catching up with each other, it felt like some weird family reunion. Nikki knew she would be told off by her other sons for ‘consorting with the enemy’ but Nikki really did like and miss her. It was more than clear Paddy did too. Y/n had practically been a part of the Holland family for three years while her and Tom were together, it was fair to say they had all got used to having her around. So when Nikki saw this elegant, grown young woman sat in the coffee shop she couldn’t help but say hi. 

They chatted about everything… well almost everything. There was a large gaping hole in the conversation though, where casual references to Tom would usually lie - but neither felt comfortable broaching that subject with the other. Not yet anyway. Y/n could not believe that paddy was in year 11 and taking his GCSEs, in her head he was still the hyperactive young boy who loved to play spies.

“We only came out today to give this one a break from his revision did we?” Nikki spoke kindly towards her youngest, Y/n raising her eyebrow at the tone.

“Yeh I just proper hate maths and I know I’m going to fail it-“ Paddy sighed, suddenly feeling the need to twist his empty hot choclate mug round and round, clearly nervous just talking about it. He clearly wasn’t especially gifted academically and in a school system where talents for the arts and less ‘mainstream intelligence’ isn’t celebrated - he was just considered a write off.

“We’ve been looking for a tutor for him but… well you know at this point in the year so is everyone.” There was almost a look of resignation in Nikki’s face, quite clear that Paddy had already given up. Y/n knew she had to offer, her history of tutoring meant this would be just like any of her other clients and she knew the curriculum inside out and back to front.

“Well you know… only if you want… but I still do tutoring when I have the time?”Looking cautiously between the other occupants of the little table, she wore a kind smile. It would be weird - yes. Tutoring her ex’s brother. But he didn’t have to know, and the Hollands had always been a second family to her. 

“Mum can she? Please I really need help and-“

“Only if you have time Y/n, sorry I dint mean to guilt you or anything?”

“No no you didn’t! But I would love to, you know Paddy’s always been my favourite Holland!” Nikki laughed at that, nodding her head as she looked deep into Y/n’s eyes. 

“Well then, no harm in trying right?” 

///////////////////////////////

Y/n the tutor was a massive hit. Paddy’s confidence almost instantly sky rocketed, with Y/n’s familiarity with him she knew exactly how to approach different subjects and get the best results. She would come over twice, sometimes three, times a week - but there was never any issue since Tom was away filming with Harry, meanwhile Sam and Dom were sworn to secrecy. The one hour sessions quickly evolved into staying for dinner just so Sam could practice from his cooking course. Then there was a little extra tutoring of english too, then a glass of wine or so. 

Then came the actual exams. A terrifying process not only for Paddy, but everyone else associated with it also. Somehow though, they all made it through alive and without the excuse of tutoring it just became an invite to dinner once a week. Just ‘because’. Nikki and Dom would love to say they only offered because Paddy wanted her there, but truth be told they all enjoyed her company. Especially with two of their sons on the opposite side of the world, it was nice just to have that familiarity again. She would go to the pub every now and again with Dom and Sam and just generally was a part of the families day to day life. 

Then came the night before Paddy’s results.

As expected Y/n had been invited round for a barbecue that evening, with the Hollands and some of Paddys friends families. The whole thing was just a distraction for Paddy who was nervous beyond belief. He really needed to pass to go on to college and chase his dreams of going to university. He couldn’t afford to cock up, even at the tender age of 16.  So fair to say a jovial evening where the word ‘GCSEs’ was banned - it was exactly what the boy needed. Everyone sat in the garden chattering away happily, enjoying the glorious and rare British sunshine. 

Sam popped inside to go to the loo, but on his way was dragged by unfamiliar hands round the corner into a study room. He shrieked in fright, before his eyes widened in recognition.

“Missed us?” Harry smirked as he let go of his twin however he was immediately pounced on by Sam, who had of course missed his twin brother for the half a year he’d been away. Next he turned to Tom, the both of them laughing as he hugged his older brother, Sam having to hide his surprise at his bulkiness. The new role obviously had him working out a hell of a lot.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“We got some time off and mum said Pads is terrified so we thought we’d pop in for moral support.” Harry exclaimed, clearly very proud of themselves for organising it for their littlest brother. 

“ Does anyone know?”

“Um… well you…now” Tom couldn’t hide his mischievous grin, making Sam shake his head at his over excitedness “So what’s going on? Is it a party or something?”

“I’ve just done a barbecue for Paddy friends families… you remember Jack? Another guy called Zak and then two girls too-“

“Ah cool so we will just walk out and surprise him?” Harry asked and Sam was about to encouragingly agree, until something struck him.

“I…um…Tom there’s something you need to know.” His voice was deadly serious and Harry noticed the warning tone; Tom always oblivious didn’t catch on so quick, just scoffed and asked why.

“While you’ve been away…. Paddy had tutoring to help and um well… Y/n-she’s here.” Tom closed his eyes and shook his head, taking a breath and gulping it down before looking intently at Sam.

“She…she what?”

“Mum bumped into her in town and she got Y/n to help Paddy with maths. I don’t know… she’s here for Paddy and well…”

“Mum knows that we aren’t speaking right?” Sam nodded in defeat, taking a small step back from his brother “and she still…she still did this?”

“You were the other side of the country and you know how close Paddy and Y/n were. And by the way she worked it looks as if she might’ve made him pass which would be a miracle in itself! So please can you just be civil?”

“It has been like 2 years Tom” Harry, very unhelpfully, felt the need to input - earning him a glare from both of his brothers. Tom just shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, eyes glued to the floor.

“Yeh…I mean we are adults” His words were stuttered, as if his brain was desperately trying to force out words his heart completely disagreed with. Harry and Sam knew of course, they knew their brother never really had got over his first love. With a sympathetic smile Sam led the way out of the study room.

It was fair to say to Holland’s were ecstatic about the twos return, Paddy’s face had been the most priceless because although he was 16 - he still really was an overexcited little kid. The whole garden energy skipped about twelve levels when they walked in, Paddys friends and families also a little excited to see ‘spiderman’ in real life. Yet Y/n… she was less pleased. Sam had instantly come over to her asking if she was okay. Which she was. Unlike her ex, Y/n had properly got over him and had serious relationships since. She just felt awkward for him, she was in the way of a family reunion, she was the sceptre at the feast. Bless Sam for keeping her company, they sat on the outdoor furniture in the corner and just chatted, while Mr centre-of-attention relished all the love from his family. She knew she should leave, so leaned closer to Sam to barely whisper. “I’m gonna go now”

“Y/n you don’t have to, Pads still wants you here and-“ 

“Sam could you give us a minute?” 

Interrupted by the oh so familiar voice, Y/n smiled nervously at him, before giving Sam a side eye saying it was okay for him to leave. Swapping seats Tom sat down in Sams seat, running  a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Look Tom I was just going to go so you guys can have a proper reunion and-“

“Please stay. Paddy wants you here and tonights about him so?”

“That’s very kind of you but...well you made it clear we couldn’t be friends. I don’t want to intrude and-“

“That was years ago and I was being naive. For paddy please?”

“Tom I….I’m-“ Stopping promptly as she was interrupted.

“staying yes I agree. Now come on he’s looking…” Tom lowered his voice as he motioned over to Paddy standing with Sam, who appeared to be watching the exchange between the two ex lovers intently “so pretend I said something funny, laugh and then we can go mingle”

“Hard to imagine… you have no sense of humour” She smiled sarcastically, before throwing her head back laughing - as if she had said something hilarious. Tom knew he had to join in, however much he tried to hide the grimace at her remark.

“ You haven’t changed at all” He muttered under his breath following her as she stood up and headed back towards the main group.

“Oh but I have” Tossing her head to look back at him, flowing hair flicking round too “I’ve learnt my worth.” Her words were dripping with sass and a little passive-aggressiveness, but all Tom could think was how amazing she was, how much he had missed that little smirk she did while flicking her head back round and pull Paddy in for a side hug. 

////////////////////////

The evening flew by, all of Paddy’s friends and their families went home, yet Y/n stayed and chatted with the Hollands as if this was completely normal. They had all long since migrated into the sitting room while the sun was setting, playing some board games of Paddy’s choice - his results long since forgotten early that evening. Truth be told, Y/n really enjoyed catching up with Harry and although they hadn’t really had any personal conversations- seeing Tom and taking the piss out of his uselessness at the games was also very enjoyable. After her and Paddy’s turn ended Y/n excused herself to go to the toilet but instead of going straight back to the living room she went to grab herself a glass of water.

“Oh Y/n… I was meaning to catch you” The soft and very very familiar voice startled her a little, the warm tone sending shivers down her spine as if a reflex. Turning round to see Tom leant against the counter with a small smile.

“Well what’s up then?” She tried not to be too open too quickly, as much as her heart just wanted to skip the small talk. 

“Just wanted to catch up, it’s been a while and just feel like we should be friends since my family seem to sort of adopted you” She scoffed at his statement, very obviously rolling her eyes, a little annoyed.

“And who was it that didn’t want to be friends huh?” She raised an eyebrow and this was Toms turn to scoff as he looked down at the ground.

“Yeh yeh I deserve that… shall we just skip past the blaming me huh?” The cockiness wasn’t hidden in his voice and that made her laugh, clearly not that shy. In fact he was terrified, but wanted to look as if he didn’t care, like he was flippant. 

“Alright Spiderman, so how’s life?” …

The truth about their break up was quite simple. Tom had got too busy and had stopped making time to their relationship. Y/n grew tired and had had enough, which he completely understood. He’d tried to promise more effort, flying back for extra weekends but they both new they were hollow, it wouldn’t be maintained. Their last meeting hadn’t been an angry shouty one, rather just depressingly sad. They’d both been upset, recahingn a mutual conclusion it was just the wrong time. Which they had both agreed with... but one thing they hadn’t. Tom thought it was like dangling a carrot in front of his face, having Y/n still present in his life. He had given her an ultimatum, they either keep going on together p as a couple or they would become strangers. And that’s where it had been left 2 years ago. 

They spent the next half an hour or so, chatting away as if nothing had ever happened. It felt normal again, all jokingly catching up about the most ridiculous things - the low hum of the left on radio in the background. That was until a certain song  came on the radio - it was ridiculous, the most insane unlikely eventuality to happen. Their old song. 

Of course that would happen. Y/n released a breathy laugh and Tom’s grin just grew and grew across his face, slowly transferring into a smirk. He stood up from leaning across the counter, that Y/n was now sat cross-legged on top. In his ever so dramatic movie like style, he rounded the counter to her side, and held an arm out to her. 

“Dance with me”

“Tom that’s-“

“Oh come on, dance with me!”

“You’re ridiculous”

“I know. So dance with me?”

“Tooommm” She drew out his name in refusal, but her body said something else as she slid off from the counter - delicately landing on tiptoes as she lowered herself down. 

“Just come here, for old times sake” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him, transferring his hand to hover at her waist, not touching until she  gave him a small nod in permission. Hesitantly she knew where her hands were supposed to go and slowly drifted them up to round his neck, but balanced  her forearms further on his collarbones so she held her own hands rather than gripping his neck as was natural. They slowly moved in unison, just slightly rocking from one side to another - Tom’s eyes locked on hers.

“So are you happy?” Something about the way he said it made her internally shudder. It was the pure care, all his sarcasm and cockiness stripped back to expose himself just for this moment.

“Um yeh… I don’t know feel like I’m starting to figure out this whole ‘life’ thing.” She smiled up at his chocolate brown eyes, while he seemed to absorb all she said. 

“And he treats you well?”

“He?” She narrowed her eyebrows in confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly.

“Oh er… before you said that ‘we’d moved out’ and I just assumed-“

“Ah um yeh I moved in with someone but he’s not in the picture anymore… got the bed to myself again” Tom thought she didn’t seem very affected by it yet still felt guilty for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry… er how long? Are you okay?”

“Yeh I really am. A year and a half so we taught each other a lot, but it was mutual. We’re still friends.” Smiling, Y/n watched as Tom nodded minutely and they drifted to silence, listening to the song bringing back all sorts of memories. “What about you? Got yourself a super model I assume?” She didn’t mean to ask that. Because why did she need to know? She didn’t care about that. Did she? Tom chuckled nervously before replying.

“Umm no. I haven’t really dated anyone since… just all the travelling and everything doesn’t really work with the dating scene.” His voice was quiet, as if hiding something, and he couldn’t meet her eyes looking at the floor.

“Oh… yeh I get that” Unconsciously letting her hands slip back, connecting with the back of his neck- instantly making him meet eyes with hers again. They just stared at each other, still swaying from side to side as the music flowed. He didn’t want this moment to end. And secretly… neither did she. 

“I can’t take you seriously when you look at me like that”  Breaking the intensity, nervously Y/n giggled, leaning away - but Tom’s arms, still on her waist, kept her from going anywhere. 

“Like what?” His eyebrows raised, enjoying her nervous flush present on her cheeks a little more than he should. 

“Like nothings changed” She all but whispered, the gap between the two almost magically diminishing. The pause was long as Tom tried to  formulate the idea he so wanted to get across. 

“ Maybe that’s because… right now I have exactly the same feelings I did two years ago… that maybe I want so badly to kiss you?” His voice was barely audible at the point, but their faces were barely centimetres from each other; noses hovering side by side as his lips brushed hers. He didn’t want to push her, yet at the same time one of his hands moved to her cheek - gently cupping it as his eyes flicked between her wide eyes and pink flushed lips. 

“Maybe… maybe you should kiss me then?” The tension was palpable as she drew out her words, purposefully teasing him a little. Because she wanted to keep him on his toes. When her heard her suggestion she had to stop herself from giggling at the smile that instantly grew across his face, the way his pupils grew in shock . Safe to say he didn’t reply, instead slowly and delicately pressing his lips on hers. She reciprocated tentatively and deepened the kiss bit by bit. Her hands now running through his hair on the back of his head, Toms other hand now on the small of her back - closing the distance completely, their bodies connected. It didn’t last long before she pulled away the most seductive smile on her face, while Tom subtly tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of his lungs. 

“We should go back” She whispered, while running her thumb over his left flicky eyebrow that always intrigued her. Suddenly his eyebrows furrowed in concern, worried he had made her feel uncomfortable. Instantly recognising this, she calmed his nerves very simply by pressing a fleeting kiss on his lips once again, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the living room.

As soon as they entered Y/n and Tom both realised how long they’d been in the kitchen. The game long since abandoned, probably waiting on one of their returns at their go, the rest of the Hollands now all sat lounging on different areas of the sofa - who all immediately looked up as they shuffled in. Luckily the lights were dimmed for the movie playing on the TV screen, so that no one would see her blushing cheeks. She sat in the middle of the sofa which only paddy was on, and Tom followed sitting next to her - but not too close that it would be suspicious . No words were exchanged throughout, though Nikki did exchange a knowing look with Dom - who had seemingly finally learnt when to keep his mouth closed. Both Y/n and Tom pretend to fix their full attention on the film for a short while, even if both their brains were whirring away with very very separate thoughts to any critical analysis of the storyline. 

After about 10 minutes though, Tom pulled his leg up, just so it was obscuring the view to the sofa opposite and took the opportunity to clasp Y/n’s hands in his. Slickly, even though she wasn’t expecting the contact Y/n didn’t react her eyes still trained on the TV. However, Tom didn’t miss the small upward tug on her lips as she squeezed his hand back. No one noticed.

Except Paddy. 

Paddy from his vantage point on the sofa he was sharing with the two, peered over subtly as he went to the loo - and a massive smirk appeared across his face. He might just’ve got his sister back.

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention.  He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia:    Geralt Rivia Destiny!

                              Geralt Rivia Fuck off

                              Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

                              Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

                              Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

                              Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree  ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts  Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a  dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Ok

 Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.  

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

[a-cluttered-gordon-freeman]

@chaotic-bastard-incarnate I hope to shatter your heart here

Just two days after Eli's death did more trouble start up.

The morale of the small team fell drastically. With Barney still missing, Alyx and Gordon had no choice but to continue as best they could, albeit hard. Splitting the rebels up 50/50, Alyx took her team of 2000 to the front while Gordon took his 2000 to search for Barney.

The Combine were strong, too strong for Alyx to have everyone out at a time. She soon split her team up so only 250 were out at any time. The other 1750 maintained what little contact they could share with Gordon.

Gordon gave insights as to what he found- so far supplies and Combine, yet no Barney.

Alyx, getting desperate, told him to start returning at the end of the week.

It was about six days after Eli's death that everything got significantly worse. Alyx's team were losing approximately 30 soldiers every quarter hour, and Alyx had no idea how to handle it. Gordon soon returned with his team, down about 112 people.

With Gordon back, the death rate dropped significantly. There was new hope among the teams. Some semblance of freedom, a brighter, and yet still small, light at the end of the tunnel.

Yet everyone had little clue that that hope was false and a train was coming towards them at that end.

Alyx noticed a couple dozen rebels take off. She told Gordon about it, to which he said to wait.

Within an hour, a message came over the radio, proclaiming that Barney and everyone in the train were all dead.

Alyx and Gordon didn't know how to respond. Gordon eventually broke down and had to leave the fight for a short while, as he couldn't focus as to what he was doing.

Alyx already had a hard enough time as it was, but to now lose Barney brought a crashing halt to a majority of the fight.

Without Alyx and Gordon to lead, rebels had to manage the fight until one or the other came back and helped. They attempted cheer amongst themselves, trying to pretend that it was all gonna end up fine.

Gordon soon was able to rejoin the fight, however Alyx struggled to join back. Two deaths in one week was too much for her to handle, and so Kleiner made sure to spend time with her.

While morale was still low, with Gordon back everyone's hope started to rise again. How could it not? Gordon had been to hell and back and had defeated a literal god, his manpower was equal to that of 40 men. Everyone looked up to him. And with Gordon back they all had more energy and encouragement to help achieve their goal.

Fifteen days since Eli's death, and nine from Barney's announced death, and morale was now at a high. Combine soldiers were going down by the hundreds. Gordon, along with the help of several rebels and Combine-traitors, managed to get behind the scenes in the Combine base.

Alyx had been back in the fight for a day at this point, and was soon informed of this achievement. With the news spreading through the team of 2,500, the rebel's energy surpassed everyone's expectations.

Yet, deep down, Alyx felt that sometjing was horribly wrong.

Gordon had gotten into the base, he had gotten in way too easily. Suspiciously easily. Alyx sent in rebels to go assist him, so as she could give herself the benefit of the doubt, but the gnawing feeling grew and grew. It grew more when she saw the rebels go in, with Combine watching them.

Her eyes widened as the Combine base blew up in a billowing tower of flame and debris.

Rebels scattered and took cover in small building and in thier own base. Alyx herself ran off into the base and began to have a mental breakdown, and anyone who attempted to comfort her found it to no avail.

With Gordon gone, or at least supposedly gone, every rebel, and even Alyx herself, contemplated surrendering to the Combine. At this point they had taken so much from the rebels. It was damn near impossible to recover now.

With the forces going 4 Combine to every 1 rebel, fear and loss of hope spread quickly. There was no point in this fight, with Gordon now gone.

Three deaths in just barely two weeks.

Rebels took to the roofs and forest trees in an attempt to weed out the Combine easier, as well as reprogramming roller mines to attack solely the Combine. The plan was working, slowly, ever so slowly, that now at least the rebels had a chance.

With the scoring now 1 combine to every 2 rebels, the fight was soon getting close to ending. The Combine couldn't pin down the treetop rebels, and the rooftop rebels managed to avoid grenades with supreme accuracy.

Alyx sighed, loading up a rifle to join the rooftop rebels. Some rebels, including Kleiner, tried their best to give Alyx some encouragement and support. There were a small amount, not anymore than about seven, who made an attempt to convice Alyx not to attempt the fight. Alyx ignored them and went up to the roof.

36 days since Eli's death, 30 since Barney's, with 21 since Gordon's.

Alyx kept the fight going hard. 1700 rebels remained out of an original 40000 at the very beginning. There were twenty Combine soldiers left. And yet they were quickly becoming a severe pain in the ass to knock down.

Many rebels went to ground level to pick the twenty out, Alyx included. The Combine soldiers attempted retreat, and the rebels marched forth.

Alyx stepped to the front and gunfire halted from both sides. The rebels looked at Alyx with an air of concern, and tension grew so much one could swear they could climb it to the sky.

A Combine soldier stepped out and went over to Alyx, stopping just about 10 feet away. The suggestion passed between the two to drop their weapons, as to have a civil negotiation.

However, on the way to stand up straight, the Combine soldier whipped out a peashooter and shot Alyx off her feet.

Gunfire rang out, a blurred mess of words and other noises to Alyx. Her vision popped in and out, the pain she felt in her stomach, chest and leg numbing out. She saw the fuzzy world move from a blueish view to a bright white one, with shadows crossing her line of sight constantly.

No rebel was prepared for this.

Several medics worked on removing the bullets from Alyx, careful not to make anything worse than it was.

Hours felt like days. The fight was over now. The Combine were all dead. Alyx struggled for her life as Vortigaunts stood over her, attempting heal her. The process felt drawn out on purpose, the rebels growing impatient.

Alyx didn't see the rebels, or the vortigaunts, or the room she was in. Alyx felt no pain, no fear. Alyx couldn't hear any rebel or vort talking to each other. She couldn't feel them either.

Instead what she saw was a small field of grass, with a small house in the center and a fence surrounding the grass. She saw Azian, and Eli, and Gordon, and Barney, all in active comunication. She saw all the rebels that had died. She felt the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze, the grass she stood on. She could smell the newly bloomed flowers, and could hear the birds, birds she never had heard before, and the happy talk of everyone around.

The rebels and Vortigaunts waited for Alyx to wake up. Her wounds were healed at this point. She still breathed air, still had a pulse. Alyx just needed to wake up.

A single day passed. Alyx had died overnight.

[sunflowerhae]

-> Forgotten Love [M.L]

Requested by • @sweetie-yoongi7 hope you like it bb!✨🐌🍄

•3.7k

warnings• slight verbal abuse, language, a fight 👊💥😤

“Write about an experience where someone you love hurt you. Explain the situation, what was done or said, how you both responded, and what the outcome was. Must be 5 full pages long, and in MLA format. God, how annoying is that? I mean, what do I write about, my mom not letting me get McDonald’s one time because we had food at home?” You scoffed while pushing yourself back into your chair at the cool, air conditioned coffee shop you currently found yourself in. Summer was just officially ending, and October was creeping it’s way into the year, which meant the air wasn’t exactly hot, but it definitely wasn’t cool enough to walk around with a jacket on. You found solace in the beige and dark brown toned drink house, that smelled like coffee beans and lured in customers with its smooth jazz playlist. You were thankful Mark picked this place to have your little date in between classes, for the chill ambiance calmed down your irritated interior.

While you loved your creative writing class, and you absolutely adored your professor, you couldn’t help but be slightly pissed off at the writing prompt she randomly assigned you. You stared at it for what seemed like hours during class, no specific moment like described coming to your conscious. You were still thinking about it as you finally looked up at Mark’s shrunken frame, and the prompt was easily forgotten as worry took over your emotions.

“Babe? Are you okay?” At your concerned tone, Mark lifted his head to meet you eyes, before quickly looking back down at his coffee. He kept glancing between your eyes and his drink, while you patiently waited for him to explain what was bothering him.

Mark scratched the back of his neck, before looking back up at you one final time, and huffing out a soft sigh. “I know what you can write about.” He had barely even mumbled it, so neither of you were surprised when you asked him to repeat himself.

“I..know what you can write about.” The way Mark refused to look you in the eyes, and the tone of his voice, lead you to believe you knew what he was talking about, and you knew he didn’t want to say it.

You and Mark were an amazing couple.

You liked the same music, you both had the same sense of humor, and you were both equally loving towards each other and your friends. You were the two oldest people in your younger friend group, and two of the youngest in your older friend group. You both balanced it out quite well, and set an example for both groups as a healthy relationship while you did it.

But that’s not to say you were perfect.

It was a year ago, to be exact. You were both at the beginning of your sophomore year of college, and the priorities were starting to stack for both of you. Mark -being a music major- had to write a song and collab with the dance majors to make a dance for the song in about two months and turn it in as a beginning of the year exam. Meanwhile, you -being a film major- had to make a small movie using the theater kids as your actors; due in a month. To top on to all the stress, you had both recently moved in together, and had barely started unboxing before the projects got thrust at you.

You hadn’t noticed he was distancing himself from you, at first.

You were so distracted with your project, that every time he would blow off eating dinner together, or would stay at the school until well into the night, you didn’t complain much; just trying to finish your project and get a good grade. It wasn’t until a month later that you started to see that something was wrong. You had finished your project and had gotten amazing grades, and all you wanted to do was go out on a nice date with your boyfriend; something you hadn’t done in about a month. You texted him the time and place to meet you at, to dress nice, and that you’d be waiting with a surprise. You had seen the small “read 3:14pm” under the text, and while you were a bit puzzled as to why he didn’t respond, you didn’t worry about it too much - seeing as lately that was his thing - and just got ready for the night you hoped would be just as amazing as the day was.

You thought you looked pretty beautiful.

Your hair was nicely done, your nails were painted marks favorite color, and the black, tight dress with sleeves hanging off the side accentuated your body and breasts perfectly. You had even sent Haechan a picture to make sure it was “hot,” to which he replied that Mark’s a lucky man, which made you smile. You were looking fine tonight, and while you had had a reason to celebrate, you couldn’t wait to give Mark your all tonight.

{for more effect, I suggest playing It Happened Quiet by AURORA here}

You took your seat in the dimly lit restaurant that was definitely too expensive for a music and film major, and waited for your water that was requested to the waiter to arrive. With a quick glance at the time on your phone, you realized Mark wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes or so. So you just sat there, trying to distract yourself from the excessive amount of bread on your table, and watched the clock count down until 7:30, when Mark should be arriving.

7:40 rolled around and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the door like it just did you super dirty. While it was just 10 minutes late, Mark was never one to be late.

Okay, that’s a lie, but he was never late to these type of things. And you perfectly timed it so that he would have time to get home from school, change, and then get to the restaurant. You quickly shot Mark a “you on your way?” text, before setting down your phone, trying not to be the clingy girlfriend, and keep your hope that Mark would be there soon.

Yet, by the time the clock struck 9, and your bread was stale and you had drank enough water to definitely get a bladder infection if you didn’t pee soon, your hope was completely dead. You silently got up from your seat and gave a small smile and nod to the hostess - who shot a sympathetic smile to you - before pushing the door of the restaurant open and walking toward your car.

You tried not to cry on the way home, but when you walked through the front door to see a dark and cold apartment, indicating that Mark had not yet come home, you couldn’t help but let the tears fall at the thought of something happening to him. You had called and texted him multiple times, and when he answered none of them, you even called the hospital to see if they had seen a patient that fit Mark’s description, or had someone named Mark Lee come in. You called all the hospitals in your area, in fact, but nothing came up. Your last hope was someone you actually didn’t want to call. Not because you didn’t want to call her, but because you didn’t want what you’re thinking to be true. But when all of your friends said they hadn’t heard from him, you had almost no choice.

“Hello?” Her chipper voice on the other end made you want to cringe, but you held it together.

“If Mark is in the room, don’t say my name. It’s y/n. Is mark with you?”

Yerim honestly didn’t know what to say. She stuttered a bit on the other end, before clearing her throat and mumbling a, “yes”.

You sighed and gave a half hearted, “okay, don’t tell him I called or anything, okay? Can you just, like, pretend you never even talked to me? Thanks Yeri,” hanging up the phone before she could answer.

You didn’t know how you felt about Mark working on a school project with his ex. When you had met Mark, it was at a college party during freshman year, around a year or so ago, actually. He had just been through a terrible breakup with his high school sweetheart who was - you guessed it - Yeri. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you were the rebound. You just, fell so hard for him in the short time you had known him that, it didn’t really matter. You guessed somewhere along the way, Mark actually did fall for you, because he stayed, and he said he loved you, and you moved in together. Because of this, and because of the fact that Yeri was never brought up, you didn’t feel too insecure about your relationship.

But now that you’re sitting on the couch in silence, thinking about the fact that your boyfriend ditched your date to hang out with his ex, you can’t help but feel a bit unconfident in where your standing was with Mark. You slowly started realizing that Mark had, in fact, been distancing himself the past month; choosing to instead spend time with his ex-girlfriend instead of the girl that he claimed he loved.

Jealously and insecurities bit away at your insides when you heard the door slowly being unlocked from the outside. Looking at your phone, you realized it was 11:32pm. You had called Yeri at 10:15, so you suppose she honored your request to not tell Mark you called.

Mark was surprised to see you sitting on the couch when he walked in. He had figured that you would have gone to bed already. It was quite late for a Friday for you, seeing as this was the day you usually went to bed early; tired from the week. He felt guilty looking at you, so he choose to train his eyes on anything besides your crumbled figure on the couch. Meanwhile, you stood up, trying to catch his gaze.

“Mark. Where were you tonight?” Your harsh infliction made Mark slightly flinch. He wanted to apologize, because he knows what he missed. And when he finally did look at you, he felt even more guilty, because you looked quite upset about the situation, and you also looked absolutely beautiful tonight. Your black dress fit your body and extenuated your curves perfectly. Your hair was done gorgeously, and he could tell you spent a long time on your makeup. Mark did want to apologize, but when you said,

“Do you even care about this relationship, I mean it seems like all you’ve done lately is ignore me-”

Mark had almost seen red. Every little thing bothering him lately just...boiled over. He wasn’t thinking before he spoke, which never worked for him; this time wasn’t so different.

“God, shut up! Just shut up! All you do is talk! This is why I prefer to spend my time with Yeri, because she’s not so extreme like you always are! You’re not even half the women Yeri is, and you’ll never be! Sometimes I wish I hadn’t picked you to be my rebound for her an-“ Mark stopped himself from talking by clamping his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

He hadn’t meant that.

He had not meant that.

He was just so upset by everything lately, and he spoke without thinking, like an absolute idiot.

But you didn’t know that. The tears streaming out of your eyes and the wobbling chin showed that for him. He reached out for you and took a step forward, only for you to take a step back, which basically broke Mark in half.

“Y/n I...” Nothing was said between you too, what was there to be said? To you, Mark had finally shown how he had really felt for the past month or so. You gave him one last look, before walking past him, putting on your heels - which were the fastest thing you could slip on - and quickly opening the door.

At the sound of the door, Mark snapped out of his daze, and rushed after you. “Y/n, no! Give me the keys, you can’t drive right now!”

Your tears had, in fact, gotten worse, but you said nothing to Mark as you picked up your pace to the parking lot of your apartments. Mark almost caught up with you, but you sped up even faster, which silently baffled him because you were wearing heals.

You finally got into the car and quickly got in to the drivers seat and locked the door just as mark arrived at the door. He was practically begging you not to go, and pleading to open the door. You just cried more and put your keys into the ignition, before backing out and driving out; Mark feeling like he was watching his whole life drive away from him.

{for more effect, I suggest playing Forgotten Love by AURORA here. You may have to play it multiple times.}

It had been three months since that incident. Three months since you and Mark talked. Three months of you being single. You, unfortunately, had a basic math class with Mark, and while you two used to sit in the corner together, you now both sat on opposite sides of the classroom. Or you in the front - him in the back. Wherever the first one in sat, the other sat on the opposite side.

Mark felt like he went through hell and back in those three months. He felt incredibly bad for what he said to you, and the fact that after that night, he didn’t try to get you back at all. The Monday after, you just sat on opposite ends, quietly agreeing that it was over. You had gotten all your stuff from the apartment, and luckily Haechan had a spare room you could live in.

Speaking of Haechan, your friend group was absolutely baffled when you both told them you had broken up. It had seemed like just a month before, you two were completely in love with each other; on the same page and everything. Then a month later; it’s over. They didn’t know who they should invite where, but you both reassured them (seperately. You both were just secretly on the same page still, without knowing it.) that you would be fine at the same social events.

You, of course, didn’t factor in that you would be watching your ex-boyfriend bring girls up to random rooms in his friends frat during parties. And that at bonfires, you would see him kissing random girls cheeks from across the fire. Or that, when you all had a group study date, he would bring a girl that none of you knew. You didn’t factor in that your ex-boyfriend would actively go out of his way to hurt you.

Truthfully, Mark didn’t do it to hurt you. He did it because if he didn’t hook up with girls at frat parties, he would drink too much and end up trying to kiss you. And if he didn’t flirt with girls at bonfires, he would spend the whole time staring at your from across the fire. And if he didn’t bring a girl to the study dates, he would break his pencils in anger when jaemin would wrap his arm around you in affection. But, at every event, no matter who he was with, Mark always failed.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at you from across the fire while you laughed at something Nayeon - Johnny’s girlfriend - said to you. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking his pencils under the table when jaemin played with the tips of your hair. And he always ended up leaving the girls before anything happened at frat parties because he couldn’t stop wishing it was you.

It was actually at a frat party that Mark had gotten you back.

You were trying to have a good time. You didn’t come to the frat parties much, because the pain of seeing Mark lead a girl upstairs hurt you so much, you felt like your chest was on fire. But Haechan had all but begged you show up to this one, and you would have never declined anyway; It was Taeil’s birthday, after all.

You were dancing with Dahyun and Chaeyoung when you felt two hands grip your waist. You expected it to be one of the guys, so you turned with a smile on your face, only to come face to face with a man you had never met. The smile on your face dropped, and you took a step back from his grip.

He gave you a sick smile, and moved forward, back into your space.

“Hey, pretty girl. Wanna dance?”

“No.” You exclaimed disgustingly, before trying to move away from the unknown man. However, that proved difficult as his grip on your wrist was quite violent, and strong. You winced, and kept tugging on your hand, to no avail.

“Leave me alone, I don’t want to dance with you.” You kept pushing your arm back, but he just tugged you closer to his chest. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and felt sick to your stomach at what was about to happen. At the thought, you started wiggling out of his grip at a faster speed.

“Bitch, stop moving-“

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time, asshole.” You opened your eyes to see a small group has formed around you, your mystery creeper, and..Mark?!

“Get lost, man. This ones mine.”

Mark was seeing red again.

“She’s...not ....PROPERTY!” and with that final statement, Mark swung his fist and you ducked just in time for the weirdo to be struck in the face and loosen his grip on you completely. You pushed yourself forward, and ran behind Mark, to the open arms of your friends, who - as you understand - ran to get mark the minute they saw you struggling.

Mark fought this dude almost twice his size for a minute, and he was about to be taken out, before he locked eyes with you, and the power surged through him. One final punch to the unknown asshole, and he was on floor. Everyone cheered, and some people were already picking up his body, chanting “POOL! POOL! POOL!” But the noise faded out as Mark strides up to you, takes your hand, and drags you upstairs. He pushes you both into a bathroom, where you suddenly take charge as you force him down on the seat, and look through the cabinet for a first aid kit.

You and Mark say nothing as you rub his cut with alcohol. At the sudden sting, Mark hisses and places his hands on your hips, gripping them harshly to push himself through the burn. You can’t help but let your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of the love of your life’s hands on you again. You felt like you had lived a thousand years without water, and were suddenly given a water bottle.

You didn’t realize how long you stood there, relishing in the feeling of Marks hands on you. Mark had opened his eyes, to see you with your eyes closed and you hands clasped together in front of your chest - the cotton ball resting in your hands. Mark pulled you closer to him with a whimper, and when you opened your eyes back, you saw that you were significantly closer to Mark, and that he had tears threatening to fall.

With a cough, you looked back at the first aid kit and pushed yourself out of Mark’s strong grip. Another couple of minutes went by in silence, before Mark finally let out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

Your movements halted, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look down at the sad boys eyes.

“I spoke before thinking. I didn’t really mean the things I said, I was just stressed out from school, a-and, fuck I don’t know, y/n. I just..”

Mark was crying now, and he leaned down and placed his hands in his hands. You stepped back in surprise with wide eyes. “I just want you back. I want my girlfriend back. I want to love you again and spend a decade and then some apologizing for what I said. I’m such a fucking idiot I know I don’t deser-“

You shut him up by pushing his shoulders back up, sitting on his lap with your legs on either side of him (terribly hard to do on a toilet, but you’re a master), and kissing him like a woman starved. Mark quickly falls into your lips, and brings his hands up and under your butt, effectively scooping you up a bit.

You don’t know how long you and Mark sat there kissing, but when Yuta walked into the bathroom to pee and had to see two twenty year olds kissing, he never let you live it down.

You smile fondly at the memory, before looking back up at your lover, awkwardly sitting across from you. Before you know it, you’re leaning forward and taking his hand in yours.

“I’m not going to write about that. That was a personal thing between us, and I honestly don’t want to relive that moment longer than I have already. I’m going to write about the time my cousin stole my DS.” You laughed, and Mark visibly relaxed at hearing you weren’t going to write about it. While he had suggested it, that was because he wanted you to feel like you could talk about it if you wanted, but the truth is he hated reliving those three months too. He remembers what terrible state he was in without you, and he doesn’t like to think about it.

You knew he was dwelling on it, so you stood up slightly from the table and leaned down to kiss Mark - who saw what you were doing and met you half way. You both gave each other a few more pecks before you whispered, “I forgive you, always and forever. And I love you.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

The Pretender Next Door Part 2 Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  Warning: Swearing.  Summary: Lying is despicable, but nothing beats the humiliation of pretending you have a lovely boyfriend when, in fact, you have none. Could your handsome neighbor help you, though?  Words: 2138.  Part 1 _____________________________________ It went better you thought it would. Your colleagues were mostly friendly and open, your work environment seemed both interesting and challenging enough, and living in the new apartment was comfortable and pretty peaceful. Well, that man from the 5th floor was singing songs from Bridget Jones Diary on Friday mornings really loudly, but you were an early bird, so you didn’t care, truly. You hadn’t seen Steve much, though it was more an advantage rather than not. He wasn’t bringing any girls into his apartment, and it really bothered you. Worse, he wasn’t bringing any boys either. Your last hope was that Steve belonged to some kind of swingers club or something and had orgies in a different place.

Swingers club? Damn, girl. This man was making you crazy.

You did your best to forget about that perfection of a man living next door. You needed to build your life from scratch in this mad city of New York, and having relationships now was not on your list. In fact, it had never been.

One busy month had already passed when you got a chance to talk to Steve again. You were stepping inside the elevator, tired after work. Next week you were organizing a big holiday party for employees, and things were going more and more stressful with each day. It turned out that way more people had allergies they didn’t state previously, most of them new employees like you, and you had to adjust the menu; then that band your VP of Marketing wanted to have suddenly asked more money than you discussed before, and…

Well, event planning was always like that. Why complaining now when you spend all those years in college and then decided to move to NY? It was predictable. What was unpredictable was you lying to your married colleagues that you had a boyfriend. Why on Earth did you say that? Yes, it was a bit embarrassing to be the only woman who wasn’t in a relationship, but did you ultimately have to lie about it? It was so stupid and childish. Surely, there were more than one single woman in New York.

Anyway, you had a bottle of white wine and Netflix movies waiting for you at home. You would deal with everything else later, including your imaginary boyfriend.

“Wait, please!”

You snapped out of your thoughts and immediately pressed a button to leave the doors open, and the next second Steve almost flew inside the elevator. Oh, was he just in front of you and you hadn’t seen him again? Seriously, you needed to put yourself together.

“Hello.” You smiled a bit shyly and pressed another button to get the elevator moving.

He looked as handsome as always in his dark blue jacket and… oh God, he could wear nothing at all and still looked like a prince. No clothes at all would be far more preferable…

“Hello.” His glowing smile made it hard to keep your eyes off his face.

Nonono, just stop staring and keep your eyes down. You had enough things on your plate already, there was no place left for a giant sun named Steve Rogers who would indeed burn you to ashes the same second you decide to come closer.

“So, are we going the same floor?” He suddenly asked. Wait, did he forget you literally lived next door?

“Um, yes.”

Steve scratched the back of his head; for a few seconds he seemed lost in thought. You decided to drop it. Maybe he had a bad memory or something.

“Oh, I get it, you probably visiting my new neighbor.” He just grinned through those perfectly white teeth.

What? Did he already forget he spent at least half an hour in your hallway repairing your bookshelf? Just how bad was his memory if he didn’t recognize your face, for God’s sake? Well, anyway, if you wanted him to have a flaw, you had to be happy he got one. Better than being a secret swinger, wasn’t it?

“Actually, I am your new neighbor.” You let out an awkward laugh and stared at your pretty kitten heels shoes you bought before leaving Key West. Why were you upset? You just thought about not getting into relationship with anyone. Besides, you doubted you had a chance to date Steve Rogers even if New York’s female population would be five times smaller its actual size.

Lost in your thoughts again, you missed his immediate change of expression, his face completely red with embarrassment and shame.

“God, I’m an idiot with a fish’s memory span.” He groaned and looked somewhere up, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “I’m so sorry! I mean, of course I remember you, Y/N, it just, ugh, you know… you just look a bit different and… Jesus Christ, I’m gonna say something stupid again, aren’t I?.. Just, ugh, sorry.”

With the guilt all over his pretty face he reminded you of a puppy who ate someone’s shoe, and you chuckled. It wasn’t as bad as you though, he still remembered your name. It was true you were different comparing to the day he met you – you were wearing way more makeup, including bright lipstick, to look older for your colleagues who were in their 40s and 50s. You also had a nice New Look black dress, and your hair were curled. Although you did not expect to look so different to others, maybe Steve simply didn’t take a closer look at your face that time?

And you could still take it as his flaw. Not bad enough, but still something!

“Don’t worry, you only saw me two times in your life.” You laughed it off and stepped out of the elevator once the doors were open. “Now if you see here a grumpy old woman with Ikea bags please remember the way I looked today.”

Steve followed you into a narrow corridor and burst out laughing, his face slowly losing its funny redness. You suspected he still felt kind of guilty, but he tried to keep it cool when you bid him goodbye and entered your apartment.

Thinking of any other possible flaws he might have, you took off your shoes and threw you bag on the comfy grey sofa in the middle of the room. You were finally home. Now you could change into your favorite blue pyjamas and fluffy slippers, take off your makeup and have some good time watching your favorite romcoms. Although you didn’t have anything for dinner, you could easily order something like a nice pizza or lasagna from that family-owned pizzeria around the corner.

The next hour you spent in a tub, washing away your worries. One was still there though: what were you supposed to do with your imaginary boyfriend? Your biggest issue was that your colleagues asked you to bring him to the party. Of course, they thought it was a nice gesture since they often brought their own husbands and boyfriends, but now they just made your life way more difficult. Even if you could say your boyfriend got sick or something at the day of the event, what then? Thankfully, no one demanded to see your photos yet, but they could. And they might ask you to bring him to dinners they had altogether sometimes, and God knows what else.

You were stupid enough to make up some super romantic story about a perfect guy any girl would like to date. It was embarrassing to think of it now, but you definitely got affected by the marriage stories of your colleagues who spent the whole lunch hour talking about their lovely husbands. Your problem was you tried to fit in too much.

Well, you probably had to come up with something about breaking up once you moved to NY. Funny, because your “boyfriend” was living here and waiting for you for a year to come over and transform your long-distance relationships into something bigger. Hell, you even said you might marry him. Why were you so careless? Why did your colleagues’ opinions matter so much?

You sighed, putting on an old black hoodie. You were hopeless.

Then you heard the doorbell rang and frowned. You were not expecting anyone since you didn’t order your pizza yet.

You hurried to the door in your slippers and put your hair into a ponytail on the way. It was around 8 pm. Who could it be? Did someone just mistake your apartment for someone’s else? You knew your aunt wasn’t coming without telling you first, and no one else knew where you moved to.

But you opened the door, and you found glowing Steve there with a plate in his hands. You were so stunned you just kept standing there until you heard him snicker. Wait, what? Steve? Did he need to borrow anything? Why was he here?

“H-hi Steve. Please, come in.” You stepped back awkwardly to let him go inside and saw him smiling even wider once he spotted your fluffy blue slippers. Could it get even more humiliating than that?

“Hi there. I’ve actually come to apologize properly for the… well, you know.” He almost looked like he was blushing a bit. “And I brought you a lemon pie. Although I baked it myself, I swear it’s not poisonous!”

Great, your absolutely perfect blue-eyed neighbor with blond hair and a winning smile was so nice he brought you a homemade pie. Girl, you were losing it. Maybe he was a serial killer instead of a swinger? It would make sense, indeed. Maybe it wasn’t wise touching this pie? Damn, you hoped he tried to kill you instead of just being nice, because Steve was clearly out of this world.

“I mean… not like baked it the way my mother did… more like googling an easy recipe online and putting everything I found into an instant pot…”

You were ready to slap yourself when you saw Steve fidgeting nervously in the hallway. You had to keep your lovely neighbor out of your mind.

“Thank you so much.” Taking the plate from his huge warm hands you felt your body temperature rising. “But you didn’t have to do that. There’s nothing to be sorry about!”

“No, I was being stupid and…”

“Well, whatever. Just come here and share this pie with me so I can check if it’s poisonous or not.” You tried your best to make a joke out of it and laughed, nodding towards the kitchen. “I can make either tea or coffee. What would you prefer? Um, if you’d like to stay, of course.”

“Only if you don’t mind the guy who couldn’t recognise his own neighbor.”

You spent the next hour chatting about anything and everything. Even though you had never been talkative with people you barely knew, Steve had seemed so trustworthy and friendly you were not able to stop. He talked a lot too, telling you more about himself, claiming he was “just a kid from Brooklyn.” He didn’t finish his university degree because of some financial issues and was now working in an auto repair shop. He still wanted to return to engineering, though, but the only jobs he was offered were some unpaid internships and things like that. And he also played guitar. And he had just finished renovating his own apartment.

The only flaw you found was his issue with keeping the rooms clean as he was overly impressed with your place and how tidy it was. Well, it was something.

Then you had somehow told him about your work, new company, colleagues, the event, and… and that imaginary boyfriend of yours. When you realized you complained about your silly lies, it was already late. Steve was biting his lips not to laugh. Oh, great. Now he was thinking how pitiful you were, pretending to have someone in order to gain some respect from your new coworkers. What kind of girl would say these things to a man like him? You were clearly out of your mind. The only good thing about it was that Steve would probably walk out of your apartment and never come back again.

“Please don’t think I’m laughing at you. It’s… a bit funny, I mean, that you think there’s nothing you could do with your issue.” He grinned at you, almost pouting like a little baby. “Think of it, you just need to ask some guy you know to pretend he’s your boyfriend. Ask him to come with you to this holiday event, and then some time later you can say you broke up with him.”

For a minute you fell silent, staring at the guy in front of you with wide eyes.

“Wait, but I don’t know anyone here. I can’t merely go to anyone on the street and ask him to do this for me, right?”

“Well, for starters, you know me.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.  

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace.  “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

*

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed,  giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

[ppunkisnotdead]

The thrilling adventures of a PA- Chapter Six: Better late than never. (Adam Sackler x Reader)

[quick note here: i’ve been meaning to finish that one sooner but things got overly complicated for me and I couldn’t really write as much as I wanted. Got a bit frustrated because I had so many new ideas for prompts & stuff but no time to write but my dear friends @aloneandsleepless reminded me it’s not about how much you write that counts so I wanted to thank her for keeping me in check there ;) Here’s the nex chapter, still got a few in store for this one, just hope you’ll still like it ‘till then.] After your little trip downhill, you pulled yourself up again (thanks to a long conversation over the phine with your mom) & got back on your feet quickly, regaining your usually warmer demeanour at work. And this despite the fact that Adam grew more and more distant as you grew closer to Dominic. It was hard to get over him, you’re not gonna lie but you managed to at least accept your fate as being,a distraction for him. getting to know Dom helped too. As you guessed, you two have pretty similar backgrounds growing up. He’s a single child, raised in a loving household, his parents both working hard to raise him good & you liked the same things, both of you bookworms for most of your childhood (& still today to be fair). He’s fun to be around, has a good sense of humor and seems genuinelyto be a nice guy. All the more reasons for you to really give it a try, after all you deserve to be with someone who wants to be around you.

It’s been almost 2 months now since Adam kissed you so you finally agreed to go on a date with Dominic as you’re over that ordeal. Or at least you think you are. You’re a little giddy when yo arrive at the studios this morning, looking forward to it even if you wonder if everything will be ok because it might change your relation with him if all goes wrong. Which given your track record is a real possibility. You brought some clothes with you since you’re not going back home after work and put them in your locker until tonight. Then you set off to the canteen in order to get coffee for Adam & you. He starts early today so you know he’ll need it in order to wake up fully. A week ago that simple fact would’ve put you in shambles but now you simply get on with it. It’s just a job, you get things done and that’s it. No more fraternizing with actors, you’ve learned your lesson. or so you thought.When you knock on his door, you can hear his footsteps approaching & judging by the sound of it, as you expected, he’s not really awake & as usual, that look makes your heart skip a beat. - ”That should help you, careful it’s very hot”, you mention to him as you hand him the cup. - ”Doubt it but thanks”, he mutters, voice still hoarse, sending a little chill down your spine. Why must he have so much pull over you, damn him you think as you try your best to keep your composed face. - “You’re expected in the make up trailer in 40 minutes, do you think it’ll be enough ?”, you ask gently, as he steps back into his bedroom, cup in his hand? He mumbles something that sounds like an agreement and you let him change, standing by the table, going through your phone to avoid the temptation of looking over there while he’s undressed. A few moments later, he’s coming back, dressed appropriately & you both exit the trailer silently. You’re not sure if he’s still not fully awaked now to have a conversation or if he’s just not talking to you anymore outside of work related topics but to be honest, it doesn’t make a difference anymore. You’re used to it and it’s better that way, it saves you both the time & energy of pretending everything’s okay since there’s nobody around for the time being. Once you’re at the trailer, you let him get inside and announce you’ll pick him back when the make up team will be done. - “So you’re abandonning me ?”, he throws at you as you’re leaving. - “You’re a big boy, you’ll survive just fine”, you retort without looking back, knowing it’s just another trick to mess with you but you’re not having any of this anymore. He had his chance & he blew it, you should let him suffer the consequences. You make your way to the catering tent and grab another coffee but it’s for Shirley as you’re supposed to meet up with her in a few minutes when she’d have dropped off her actor to his location. It has become a sort of habbit between you PA’s to do that kind of stuff, to make time go a little faster when you have to wait up for your ‘‘bosses”“. You chat of your evening a bit but of course, rapidely she asks you how you feel for your date. Confessing that you’re nervous, you discuss for a good 20 minutes about what could happend or not, what you should avoid to say (you tend to overshare when you’re uncomfortable) and she encourages you to simply enjoy the night. A sound advice but will you be able to follow it once you’ll be there tonight ? That’s the question. You part when your break is over and get back to your daily routine, running errands & walk Adam from one place to another, without sharing more thant a few words here & there. So when you leave him at this trailer, your day is over as far as work is concerned and you head to the lockers, mind already focused on what’s to come. You hope that what you picked up for the occasion isn’t too simple or too plain as you don’t know where you’ll be going. It’s supposed to be a date after all, you need to dress up a little. Checking nobody’s in there in order to change, you open your locker and trade your shirt for a silky blouse. You’re dealing with the last button as well as getting your hair out of the collar when you hear the door behind you. But it’s not another Pa who shows up as you thought, no. It’s Adam and he looks out of breath. - “You’re not supposed to be here!”, you tell him as you turn back to your locker, reaching for your bag to get your make up. - “Don’t go”, he blurts out without any other form of introduction. - “I’m done for the day, if you need something you can order it”, you respond without looking at him. He shakes his head as he gets closer. - “I didn’t mea-..; Don’t go to your date”, he says almost pleading and you stop moving on the spot. There’s a few secondes of deafening silence before you finally look at him. - “You’re un-fucking-believable... Almost 2 months without saying a single word after you kissed me & now that I’m getting over it, you burst in and ask me to bail on him just because you ask me ?”, you huff, still stunned by his cockyness. “Why do you even care ? You’ve clearly showed it all this time that you don’t and you can have anyone you want, so why are you doing that ?”, you ask, starting to lose your temper. - “isn’t it obvious ?”, he dares say like it was, looking at you as if you were able to read his mind or something & it angers you even more. - “No! No, it’s fucking not!”, you roar, clsing your locker’s door in a sweep motion before you turn to face him (which is somewhat ironic since there’s a good 6 inches gap between the 2 of them, given your height difference).”Out of nowhere you kiss me and then you act like nothing happened and now that you realize I’m slipping away, suddenly you think you can do that ? Well I’ve got some bad news for you”, you spit out, blood boiling inside of you. “You had your chance and you blew it. So why are you doing this to me ? Is it funny for you ? Does it make you feel better to mess with me like that ? Answer me!”. But it’s not words he’s throwing your way as an answer, nope, it’s his lips as he takes your face in his hands. Your first thought is to step back. As you’ve said, he had his chance but your body’s not responding anymore and you give in. You can feel his breath on your skin, feel the warmth of his hands and the power of his grip on your neck as one of his hands lands there as you’re still kissing, your hands unconsciously grasping the hem of his shirt. You don’t know how long it’s been now but you’re brought back to reality when the door opens again and you finally part from him, short of breath and flustered. The person catches the scene and gets back out without saying anything, offering you the chance to regain your senses just enough to take a step back from Adam. - “Ok... that’s a good point but it still doesn’t answers my question”, you mumble as you’re still catching your breath, your hand running over your lips swiftly. - “Can we talk about that somewhere else ?”, he asks, his gaze focused on you & you can read the plea in his eyes. - “I’ll text you my address, meet me there in an hour”, you sigh heavily, knowing what you’ll have to do before you can have that conversation with him. “There’s something I need to do first”, you add  he nods, knowing all too well what you’re talking about. You both stay silent, unsure what to say or do but you tell him he can go and you leave the locker a few seconds behind him, heading to the studio’s entrance where you said you’d meet Dominic. When he sees you, he can sense something’s up and you hate yourself for what’s following. He didn’t deserve this and as you walk home after you both part ways, your guilt’s eating at your stomach for most of the journey. Once you’re in your appartment, you go straight to the bathroom and wash your face with some water & look at yourself in the mirror. What was wrong with you, you kept asking yourself, before you would never have done anything like that but there was just something about Adam that made you falter when he looked at you like he did in the locker room. A long sigh escapes your lips and you jump a little when your phone vibrates in your pocket. He’s in front of the building. You give him the code to pass the main door  you pace for a few seconds in your living room before his knocks resonates on the door. One last huff to collect yourself and you open the door. - “Come in”, you invite him as you step to the side to let him get inside. - “Thanks”, he says, hands in his vest and he scans your place for a few seconds before turning to face you. “How didi it go ?”, he asks and you just shrug. - “What do you think ? He was pissed & he had the right to be”, you simply answer, not really wanting to go into the details of that confrontation. “Do you want something ? I was about to make some coffee”, you mention as you walk towards your kitchen. - “No thanks, wouldn’t do me any good at this point”, he comments and you raise a brow but since you’ve got your back turned on him, he can’t see it. The only sound you can hear is your cofee machine for now and none of you say a single word. You grad your mug and turn around, to find him eyes fixed on you. - “So... I’m still waiting for you to answer my question...”, you point out calmly, bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip in hopes this will help you go through that conversation more easily. - “I fucked up”, he says running a hand in his hair while sighing deeply. “I know I fucked up but I didn’t know what to do”, he adds, fidgeting on the spot. You give him a look that says he needs to elaborate because you don’t know what eaxctly he’s talking about; “i realized I was falling for you and it freaked me out because I didn’t want to screw what we had going on ‘cause the last two times I felt like this for someone, it blew in my face big time”. You can feel it’s hard for him to talk about that so you stay silent and try to encourage him with a nod. “They had problems on their own & I’m not exactly a pinnacle of stability myself so I freaked out because I didn’t want to hurt you with all that crap. Which I ended up doing anyway, acting like a 12 year old worked up by his hormones”, he lets out in a hurry & you can almost feel the weight coming off of his shoulders from saying it out loud. - “ And you couldn’t just- don’t take this the wrong way but... talk to me about that ? I wasn’t going to yell or anything if I had any inkling of all that from the start, instead of feeling I was being played with”, you explain to him, eyes locked with his. You put your mug aside and walk up to him. “It’s sweet that you wanted to protect me like this but if you really want whatever this is going to be to work out, you’ll have to talk to me, okay ?”, you say as your hand slowly reaches his cheek and he almost freezes at the touch at first, & it pains you to see that what happend with his exes must have been something else entirely if he’s so afraid of making a mistake with you. - “I’m sorry I fucked up”, he repeats, this time leaning in your hand a bit, guilt visible in his eyes & you smile softly to him. - “It’s okay now, stop thinking about it”, you reassure him and you stare at each other for a couple of seconds. You can see so much going on in those eyes... But yours close for now as he bends over slowly and captures your lips tenderly. This kiss is different, gentle & less needy but you can feel the message it’s supposed to convey. He’s not playing with you anymore, this is real. Which makes you step back after a few moments, even though you’d stay that way for quite some times. “Not that this wasn’t enjoyable but we still have some things to sort out first...”, you mention before your gaze rises up to meet his again & he nods in agreement. The both of you settle on your couch, sitting so that you somehow face each other and start talking. First you question him about what exactly happened with his ex-girlfriends and boy, no wonder he was so unsure of himself after what he wen through. Between Hannah’s selfish & childish behaviour & Jenna’s destructive habbits, it’s a miracle he even allows himself to love again so soon. You know he’s got issues on his own but you understand now why he acted the way he did. He keeps talking then, letting out what he kept inside for too long you guess & you just listen to him (probably another change for him). The more you learn and the more you’re relieved to see that your guts didn’t lie to you when you felt it fall for him in the early moments. You can almost see his mind getting lighter as time goes by, so much so that, in the end, you only stop talking around midnight as you both start to feel the length of the day. He asks if he can crash you couch for the night and you tell him he can join you in your bed. It’s big enough enough for the both of you after all and it wasn’t as if something was gonna happen tonight. You’re both too exhausted by now, physically & mentally for any other activity you usually can do in a bed with someone you fancy. You lend him some old clothes what could fit him and change while he’s doing the same in your bathroom. Alarm set for the next morning, you wish him good night & he leans in slowly, kissing you softly; making you smile against his lips as you let your hand rest on his cheek for a few seconds. Your eyes remain closed after that, sleep coming swiftly to snatch you, unaware that Adam spends a couple of minutes staring at you before he drifts off too, a small grin showing on his face...

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

So motivated by anyone who shares they are working on losing weight. FYI 10kg is nothing to sniff at, esp. if you're not being too restrictive (as a lot of restrictive diets basically make you lose water weight at first, prob not your case). Keep it up!! If you don't mind answering, what are your goals?

I don’t mind, but I’m putting it under a cut because it’s going to be a looooooonnnnng ass ramble and I’m going to include some pics and I’m aware that I’ve already clogged everyone’s timelines with enough pictures today. Before I go off on my tangent, though, I want to make it really clear that I firmly believe that any person can be beautiful and love the way they look at any size. This is something that I am fighting very hard to believe about myself, too, regardless of what weight I am. I am not at all a believer in slimming down for the sake of vanity (despite my negative opinion of my own looks, vanity has never been a big enough motivator for me to lose weight), but this has progressed to the point where vanity isn’t even a consideration anymore.

Okay, so, backstory. When I first moved to England, I weighed 140lbs (63.5kg) and I looked like THIS ↓

Aren’t I BEAUTIFUL? I think so, even if nobody else does, I think so. I think so now. That part matters.

I can distinctly remember that when all three of these photos were taken, you see. I also distinctly remember looking at each one afterwards and thinking, “Fat, repulsive, disgusting.” Fat, repulsive, disgusting. That was my opinion of myself. I repeated those words in my head on a daily basis. I truly believed them. Hence, I’m wearing the same ugly cardigan in two of those pictures, because whenever I wore pretty clothes I felt so undeserving that I was compelled to cover them up with something ugly (the red dress is an anomaly because there was a dress code involved). EVERY TIME. It practically become automatic. “I’ve spent £40 on this dress, so what can I cover it with?” was basically my mantra. It was fine, I thought, because I didn’t care about pretty clothes. Liking pretty clothes was beneath me. This was a lie. I love pretty clothes. I love bright colours. I was drawing pictures of pretty gowns and tiaras from the age of six. But hey, easier to pretend that you don’t give a shit about pretty dresses than admit that you don’t feel worthy of wearing them.

I am seven whole-ass years older now, and I topped out at 283lbs (128kg) on the scales fives weeks ago. That is the heaviest I have ever been. I have doubled my body weight. By medical standards, I am extremely obese, and I’ve had seven whole-ass years to think on how I behaved back then. I’ve thought a lot about how much I hated my body and how undeserving I felt and how I stuffed myself full of junk food and said it didn’t matter because I was repulsive anyway, so why not? I wasn’t being kind to myself. How can I be a kind person if I don’t treat myself kindly? My own self-loathing has cost me my health, because in 2013, I didn’t need to take stomach tablets every day. I wasn’t vomiting a few times a week because of chronic digestive issues. I had regular periods. I lived in Sunderland and would get out of bed on my days off and walk three miles to Seaburn beach, just to hang out with a book and build sandcastles and paddle in the water and thoroughly enjoy my life. I had the ability to do that without wanting to collapse. I had the energy to write for hours on end without getting sleepy after forty minutes. I had lots of energy, lots of it!

I don’t have the luxury of enjoying any of that stuff now. I have lethargy and sluggishness and I get breathless walking up the stairs, and a huge part of that is because I have gained so much weight over the years, and because I have been eating things that specifically exacerbate my digestive issues. And I’m sick of it. My brother’s lottery win has been the most insane blessing to my family in that it is allowing us all to live out our wildest travelling dreams, and I don’t want to be the person who takes an eight hour flight to Paradise, only to sit around and do nothing because she just doesn’t have the strength. There is an eleven-year-old diamond in my life who I would do anything for, and I want more than anything to be able to bring him places and have fun with him and partake, instead of sitting on the sidelines holding coats because I am too fat to ride the rollercoaster (which happened to me, FYI, shout out to Port Aventura for sticking to safety measures, though the woman manning the coaster didn’t have to poke my thigh and say, “fat,” to make her point clear).

The thing is, and maybe this is a tl;dr moment that could have saved me a lot of trouble, but I am unhealthy and I’m tired and this is like...my life. My one life. What am I doing? I owe it to myself to treat my body better.

So these are my aims.

I want to get back to 140lbs. That is a healthy and reasonable weight for my height and body type. I am aware that I will not look the way I did in 2013 because I am seven years older, but I don’t care. I am aware that I will have loose skin and a belly and wobbly thighs when I reach this weight, but I don’t care. I will have energy. I will be healthier. I will be able to bring my stepson to all kinds of places and have the most fun with him.

No fad diets ever. This is all I’ve ever tried before, and the end result has always been the same: lose a bit and put it back on. I am making legitimate and incremental changes to my lifestyle. I am building lasting habits. I will weigh myself once a week to keep track of how I’m doing, but never more than that. I will exercise every day for a small amount of time, but if I miss a day for any reason, I won’t beat myself up about it. I will not skip meals. I will not deprive myself of food.

I am an excellent cook and I love trying new things, so I will be using that skill to find and experiment with new, delicious recipes from all over the world for my family to eat. Once lockdown ends, I’m going to start throwing dinner parties. I think this will really help me to change my attitude towards food and make meals fun for me, rather than a self-inflicted punishment.

No denying myself things. If I want to get a McDonalds I will get a McDonalds because, y’know what? Tomorrow I am going to have lots of veggies and cook myself a good, nutritious dinner, and that McDonalds won’t be anything but a delicious interlude in my week that I am not going to feel bad about.

No hiding myself in drab clothes. I hate wearing brown, grey and black and yet it accounts for most of my wardrobe. Both of those cardigan pics were taken in the middle of summer. I have wasted years of my life sweating it out in long sleeves and leggings so other people wouldn’t see, and for who? For what purpose? I am going to buy all the pretty clothes I like, wear loads of bright colours. Fuck it, it’s just for me.