#just staring at a long list of random doctors and trying to decide which one might be helpful

[callingvalhal]

I’m so fed up with the medical system here I’m going to pull all my hair out the big medical groups won’t accept patients from each other even if it’s in the benefit of the patient!!!

[dimepdf]

CIRCUMCISE MY LOVE. + THE RIDDLER

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

summary. after a few years of being a therapist working in Gotham, you decided to quit your job when you got into an entanglement with one of your patients.

author's note. no porn, sorry horny people. (but if i do end up writing a part two there will be.)

pairing. riddler x fem!reader

warnings. heavy angst, manipulation, light bondage, slight body worship, therapist!reader, crying, gas lighting, stalking, violence, obsession, toxicity, not spell or grammar checked sorry :( | - feedback is always welcomed & dont forget to reblog 💙 3.3k w.c.

Living in Gotham came with a slew of risks, which you were made aware of the day you agreed to be transferred to work in the state's least active department in your unit of behavioral therapy. Your parents would beg you not to leave, having heard only negative things about the depressing city and its terrifying crime rate.

You would argue that it was your responsibility to literally help create change, and that the ideal location for you to establish roots was in the heart of a city that needed as much compassion as it could get.

Gotham greeted you with open arms and low rent. You were hoping to find housing with other people from your department of wealth. You quickly realized how little the department cared about their employees.

You were forced to settle in a decent house with at least a decent security system, as your employer swore that the lock system was top of its class.

Yet you would doubt it since you would always wedge a random stick on the side of your door so it could fully lock at night, adding to the fact that you had hesitantly purchased a gun on your parent’s orders wanting the best security for their daughter in the big city.

Your first few weeks into the job were chaotic. Your department at the Arkham Asylum was dangerously understaffed, and you realized your job would be more of a filler for nurses who would abruptly leave or guards who were tired of putting up with patients who would get out of hand.

You had learned that it would just be better to keep your head down at work. You saw the stares that the patients would openly give you, licking their lips as you worked, some even going as far as yelling obscene things at you.

That was until the day had finally come and you heard the news of one of the doctors in the department going missing. Dr. Quinn, you two would only see glimpses of each other traveling in the office.

The woman was a gorgeous blonde who seemed to be the only one who looked forward to going to work at the asylum, as if there was always something waiting for her when she entered. You envied the woman's interest in the job, almost using her as a role model as you pushed to take her place the moment she had gone missing. 

It seemed like you were the only one concerned with her sudden disappearance, as many others just assumed she took the high road and got tired of dealing with the craziness that came with the job. "Dr.(L/N)," your head lifted from the piles of neglected paperwork as your attention was pointed towards an unfamiliar face. 

The man was more on the buffer side. Covered in body armor that made you feel extremely underdressed in your navy blue blazer with matching capri pants and cream button-up shirt. You had tried to smooth out the creases in, having forgotten to purchase an iron on your list of house appliance needs.

"You're needed in Section F." The Asylum was pieced into a weird hall of different sections, all controlled with keycards and ID codes. You were told to carry your ID with you wherever you went in the facility, so you wouldn't be locked out of your office simply because you needed to use the restroom.

As you followed the guard down the long twists and turns of different hallways and doors, you had lost track of where you were going and were already trying to figure out how many doors you had entered.

As you entered a dimly lit room, the guard who was leading you sighed and looked at his wristwatch. You would glance around the room and notice that it was a transfer room. One room framed a window of one-sided glass with a table pushed up against it along with two folded chairs.

On the other side of the window, you saw the reason you were brought to the room. "Edward Nashton is his name, and I'll do my best to get you the rest of his case file, but it'll most likely take a day. They just want to see if you can handle Section F patients." That day would mark the beginning of your infarction with your first real patient.

You had only assumed to have figured out the truth about Dr. Quinn's disappearance, as you'll be in the same boat as her soon. You were two women thrown into the beast's cage because you were easy targets.

Despite the fact that the guards were just across the room, watching Edward's every move, you had grown unprofessionally close to him during your months as his therapist. Edward appeared to be making efforts to improve his mental health from the moment you were welcomed into his life. Of course, that's what you were led to believe.

His eyes would flutter shut as he inhaled the lasting scent of your perfume just before he could leave the room, as he was escorted out of the room in handcuffs and chains tied to his feet.

You were left unaware of the things Edward would do outside of your sessions only being known to the things filed in his paperwork as there would be nothing about how he would touch himself replaying over and over in his head every time you had spoken his name.

No one called him by his actual name anymore, other guards spitting his last name and other prisoners slurring insults but you, he had memorized the way your lips would form as he asked him a question.

He loved when you start every question with his name, mistaking his dazed glances around the room as him not paying attention you would be the only person to show him patience as you would repeat things and explain them just to get clear answers out of him, anything other than straightforward compliments about how he liked how you styled your hair, how corrupted the system was that you were supporting and grumbling strings of sentences that left your eyebrows frowned as you would scribble something down in your notepad.

“I think we both want the same thing.”

“What do you mean by that, Edward?” your eyes met finally, the eye contact brought a chill down your spine as you were the first one to break away.

Edward watched as you rolled back your shoulders and looked down at your clipboard. You caught your bottom lip in between your teeth as you mentally recollected yourself under the man's overbearing hard stare.

You weren't that dense, comparing your relationship to that of a leashed dog as his eyes bore into yours. As if he didn't want to miss any detail in your expression. "I want Gathom to be better," you were supposed to be the doctor, the one who would have any sense of direction in conversation, "free of the filth and corruption within the system that was supposed to protect people like you."

You were supposed to be able to string the man onto every sentence as you spoke yet he had always managed to leave you wondering what his next moves were.

"You're just puzzled, doctor; if you can't help yourself, what makes you think you can help others?"

It was fair to say that you had quit your job after going through the many mentally draining encounters of living in Gotham yet alone having to deal with the patients who had managed to make it their daily routine to watch all the hope you had for them crumble from one interaction.

You were cracking under the pressure of trying to fit into the new environment of the high sprung city, you thought the new articles written about the city were purely all just exaggerated stories that were written only for the head titles to grab people's attention to remind them how comfortable and stable every state but Gotham was, you thought maybe the news was painting Gotham to be this constant crime stacked place with streets so unsafe that people wouldn't even bother walking out of their homes at night.

Boy, were your parents right.

The longer you lived in the depressed, gloomy neighborhood, the more you fell into step with the mood of the place. Hearing police sirens blaring through the streets as you stayed in bed with a knife under your pillow.

The days when you'd walk out of your door and see people rummaging through your trash, flashing the gun strapped to your hip when the old men looked at you a little too closely. 

You've only lived in Gotham for a few months and already planned to move back home, maybe it was the Edward instant that hit the nail on the coffin, on the way home that same day his words were playing on a loop in the back of your head as you convinced yourself that everything he spoke was purely the truth. 

You were just one person, there was no way you would be able to change an entire city, you were a small woman who was afraid of her own shadow wanting to stop all the injustice and crime in the city?

Why would you even expect to make a dent, the realization hit heavy as you barrier yourself inside your home since you sent your resignation letter, you know the moment that your boss didn't even try to keep you in your position, you could hear the tiredness in his voice as he simply just accepted the defeat having been used to staff dropping the position of work.

He didn't blame you, nor make comments that led towards him being disappointed if anything he just sounded like he expected you to leave, you heard whispers of your name being spoken around the office, as people would gossip about how long you would last in your position earlier on you made efforts to break their expectations of you.

Coming to work with your head up and hopes high, your smile was quickly replaced with fear as you would be afraid every day that you would say the wrong thing to the wrong people.

You don't fully understand what happened the day Edward snapped because everything happened so quickly that you couldn't even process the moment Edward shot from his lounge chair and used the handcuffs on his wrist to beat the face of another patient right in front of you.

It'd be the first time you'd seen him in the same light as everyone else.

You suddenly remembered that the charismatic man who had charmed you into believing he was a mentally sane person had been your patient, someone you shouldn't have been excited to talk to every time you entered the asylum.

It was like he had you wrapped around his finger and the moment the first punch landed reality had struck you. 

You were in love with him. 

You've decided it was a more morally correct option to distance yourself from Edward the moment you realized the creeping romantic emotions you had for him.

You felt sickened by your own emotions as you couldn't believe how dense you were to fall for your patient, let alone a sociopath that had more crimes under his belt than you had degrees. 

You were sad to leave everything you had worked to build up in the city behind, as you instantly called your parents, begging for their assistance to help you come back home.

They, of course, agreed and helped you settle your scattered emotions, though you, of course, never spoke of the real reason you had quit your job, and the fact that the reason was because of your own clumsy emotions. But you were ready to move on. No more patients verbally assaulting you, nor coworkers whispering about you behind your backs.

You spent the free week you had barricaded yourself in your home repacking all your belongings and talking to your family on the phone, mentally patting yourself on the back for your laziness in keeping some of your belongings in the same cardboard boxes you had moved into the place with.

You were laying on the mattress of your bed that was placed still on the floor naked without a headboard or box-string. Your room was littered with moving boxes as most of your things were prepared for the following morning for the movers to come and drive all your things back home.

It was mid spring, as the weather had recently shown how bipolar it could be.

You slept with a thin blanket and your fan blowing air directly onto you sat plugged in next to your mattress, a layer of sweat further exhausting you as you had earlier stripped from most layers of your clothes, only sleeping in a dark camisole top and your comfy pair of underwear, having stripped your satin sleeping shorts as you spread across the blankets. 

Although the paranoid fear of the movers waking you up from your sleep lingered in the back of your mind, you decided to throw off the shorts near the end of your bed for a quick reach in the morning.

You sighed, laying down against your mattress, unable to sleep as you listened to the sound of the show, resting your head against the pillows. As the only light coming from your laptop and TV was the show you left on because you didn't feel settled enough in the house to sleep in the pitch darkness.

You were almost close to falling asleep until there was a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anyone as you slowly sat up, your fingers tracing under your pillow as you pulled out the unpacked kitchen knife, so you were cautious as you waited to hear the sound again, the knock seemed to echo down your hallway and into your bedroom, as you reached your other hand for your cell phone. 

Your neck snapped to the stick you usually use to wedge your door shut as you heard it being shoved open. As you slid out of bed, hearing footsteps inside your house, your knife and phone in hand as you slid into your closet, the sound of your heart pounding as you dialed 911 into your phone.

The bright white apple logo flashed in front of your face, your hand smacking against your mouth to stop it.

You were in a panic as you swallowed thickly roughly inhaling from your nose as you slid to sit down against the corner of your closest.

Your heart hammering as you heard the bedroom door swing open quickly, there was a moment of silence where you could only hear the sound of your hard breathing. Your lip quivered as a sob escaped your lips, your hand slapping over your mouth once more. 

You heard it.

The sound of a gun cocking, your heart skipping a beat as you realized the weapon you had left out for the intruder, the closet door sliding up as your fist wrapped tightly around the knife.

You rose to a squat as the door fully swung open, you quickly rose to your feet, slamming your body weight into the intruder as you aimed the knife towards their chest, both of your hands wrapped tightly around the knife handle.

You landed on top of the intruder, slamming into the ground as they were quickly disarmed.

Your eyes followed the gun as you sat up to crawl for the weapon, only for the intruder to pin you down on your stomach to the ground, a scream threatening to escape your throat as you were rolled onto your back.

Edward pinned on top of you as he sat directly on top of your hips, one arm slamming against your mouth, the other pinning your flailing arms down pushed hard against your chest, his grip bruising yet his face so blank as he stared down at you.

“you just have the worst kind of luck,” a grunt leaving his mouth as he a smirk crept onto his lips his eyes trailing to look like the way your breast perked perfectly while you laid down with your arms pushing them farther up.

He flinches almost as if he were mentally scolding himself as he pulled back the hand that was used to cover your mouth you're gasped not being able to form a proper scream as tears streamed from your eyes and whimpering break from your lips.

 “Please–please don’t,” your plea cut shut as a strip of tape was pushed against your lips, you struggled against Edward's hold as he taped together your arms to your elbows.

You used your free legs to kick and squirm against him you quickly realized your struggle would do nothing as the male was twice your build and height, towering over you as he reached back holding your legs down his hands squishing around your upper thigh.

You froze as the male hooked his hand over the back of your knee and perched your leg up to his other hand hesitantly pressing into the plush of your meaty thigh as his hand wrapped around the underside of your thigh almost playing with the flesh his eyes were tranced towards the body part. 

You wanted to ask him what he was doing, the question coming out as a string of mumbles as you already forgot about the tape that covered your mouths. Edward tilted his head to the side almost similar to a confused dog as he gave you a glance before taping your thighs and feet together.

You could only watch helplessly as the male stood up with a sigh, his hands fiddling with the tape role as he stared down at you a glint in his eye convinced you that you were some type of prey compared to him.

“you look so beautiful,” he mumbled his voice low as he reaches for your arm you flinched away before he roughly grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you to sit up against the wall “please don't, I hate seeing you cry.” A hand reaching out as his finger dragged along your cheek wiping your tears away as his eyes seemed to inspect every place his hands touched. 

You hesitantly leaned into his touch. Your eyes wet and glistening as you stare up at him, Edward's gaze slowly making his way to yours as he suddenly pulled away from you as if your skin was scolding hot. His head ducking into his hands as he sat away from you, a frustrated shout breaking into the room as his fist met flat against the floor.

The moment of silence was replaced with his quiet mumbling as he inhaled his hands tracing down his face as he glared at you, “you're driving me insane, I can't spend one second without thinking about you, what did you do to me why did you leave me?.” you blinked your mind spiraling when you realized the man genuinely looked like he was mentally struggling like you were a virus that wiggled your way into his cryptic brain. 

A hum escaped your lips as the tape restricted you from talking once again, Edward seemed to hesitate as he reached over and quickly ripped the tape away from your skin a quick pinch of pain making your duck your head in a reaction to the pain, as you lifted your head you licked your lips and gesture that made Edwards eye glued to your mouth.

"Because," your voice horse, "I no longer want the job–" He swiftly grabbed the gun from the ground and pointed it at you as you flinched your eyes closing tightly. "No," he said, crawling towards you, "you don't fucking understand…" as he sat closely across from you, his breath fanning on your face.

 "Understand what?" You croaked, refusing to lift your head only seeing the bottom of the man's chin in your field of view, his posture poorly as he sat on knees leaning towards you, leaning against the wall. He pressed the gun against your head and just smiled, "no one…understands me like you do (Y/N)."

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[notmrskennedy]

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle 

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action. 

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people. 

Alive people. 

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done. 

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain. 

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg. 

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids. 

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway. 

[songandashadow]

august fic rec

so this list is a whole mess because I haven’t made one in so long and in the time since I last did, I discovered a whole bunch of new fics and authors that I can’t even begin to put in one rec. Instead here’s a small part of the massive amount of fics I read recently. Please give these authors kudos, comment and enjoy. :)

❀ This Could Be Something by 28sunflowers |  6k words

After a hookup gone wrong, Harry keeps getting sick at random times without reason. That is, until Louis shows up at his door with a wild explanation.

Sometimes, "happily ever after"s come in the strangest forms.

❀ (Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites | 86k words

a Northern Exposure AU featuring Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

❀ Love You a Latte by 1Diamondinthesun | 15k words

Louis Tomlinson doesn’t drink coffee and definitely doesn’t go to Starbucks. Enter barista Harry Styles. Add a double shot of espresso, stir in 90s references to taste, and top with whipped cream and love.

Or, the coffee shop AU featuring girl direction, creative espresso, and a professor and a barista falling in love in one beautiful autumn.

❀ Please Be Naked by Only_angel_28 | 17k words

Louis starts squirming, desperately needing something to do with his hands. Needing to do anything, really, to distract him from the perfect male specimen standing naked in front of him. In the end, the only thing he can do is strip out of his own jeans and briefs, which he does with trembling, clumsy fingers, his heart beating out a violent, chaotic rhythm in his chest the entire time.

He hears Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and slowly raises his eyes from where he was staring at his own bare feet to meet his gaze.

“So,” Harry says bashfully, his voice gone even deeper somehow. “We’re naked.”

“Yup,” Louis squeaks.

“You okay?”

No!

“Yup,” Louis repeats, sounding just as unstable as he did the first time.

This is the last favor Louis Tomlinson is ever doing for Zayn Malik. (Because, after today, he’ll be dead, but that’s neither here nor there.)

❀ The Sleeping Giant by LadyLondonderry | 3k words

In the centre of the pond, there is a sleeping giant.

He rises out of the water, eyes closed and face at peace, sitting as if in a trance. Moss grows up his back, tangles in his hair. He is at peace here, or perhaps he is peace. Perhaps he is what keeps the pond and the clearing so quiet and serene, blessing the forest with his presence.

❀ I Heard You Talking by lululawrence | 10k words

It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.

Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.

He was stunningly gorgeous.

Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”

God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?

Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.

❀ The Lonely Planet Guide to Second Chances by 1Diamondinthesun | 102k words

When Harry and Louis broke up, the last thing on Harry's mind was the non-refundable surprise trip he had booked for them across Europe. Harry was supposed to be moving on, not sightseeing with his ex. In hindsight, touring the continent with Louis was probably a bad idea. So naturally, that's exactly what Harry did.

Or, the breakup travel fic featuring romantic sunsets, awkward bed sharing, and second chances against a backdrop of some of Europe's most iconic cities.

❀ got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove | 124k words

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

❀ bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 | 2k words

Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.

❀ Take Your Time by Layne Faire (HisDarlin) | 11k words

When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him?

❀ I'm Tripping Over Your Every Single Move by lookingfortherainbow | 5k words

“I could pretend to drown,” Harry gasped, looking like he was in awe of his own genius. “Oh my god, what a story to tell our kids. He’d be my reason for almost dying, my reason for staying alive. By the way, have you been working out more lately?”

Liam stared in utter disbelief at his friend’s wild imagination, vaguely noting that Harry was now petting at his bicep in a daze, no longer holding it in a death grip. Sometimes, he wondered why Harry wasn’t at least minoring in theatre.

“Harry, babe. You’re here on a scholarship. For swimming. You’ve literally won multiple events in this very pool. Because you’re so good at swimming. You come here almost everyday to train, which I don’t think has escaped any of the lifeguards who work here. I don’t think that’s as good a plan as you think it is,” Liam said, eyebrows turned up with concern.

Or, Harry is the local swimming star athlete and Louis is the lifeguard that turns Harry into a fish out of water.

❀ the pinker, the bluer by docklands | 1k words

Harry comes out as a trans guy during the pandemic. Working from home and away from everyone, he finds liberty to explore his self-identity. One night, however, he decides to go out.

❀ Lovin' It Up by letsjustsee | 6k words

What did Niall know? This had nothing to do with the few times (okay, countless times) Louis had pined over the idea of Hot Neighbor while drinking. Nothing at all. So what if he had perfect lips and long legs and the cutest little curls around his ears? Certainly not Louis.

He continued to scribble away, most of his words indiscernible except for one written in large letters at the very top of the napkin: REVENGE

Or, a neighbors AU in which Louis vows to get revenge on the guy who didn't hold the elevator for him - no matter how ridiculously attractive he may be.

❀ My Strange Addiction by phdmama | I'm Hot for Teacher verse

The guy at the other end of the bar has been checking Harry out all night.

❀ take the time for you by pixies | 1k words

Dating hasn’t really been very easy for him, lately, not ever since he moved to London earlier in the year for his job. He’d had terrible luck with online dating and was too dedicated to his current projects at work to make time to go out to the bars or to try to socialize more than once every few weeks.

aka, Harry ends up at speed-dating to get his friend off his back and has a better night than expected.

[justapoet]

Hi mary! Can I request for tarlos: 37 "How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?" thank you in advance! xx

Sara!! Thank you so much for sending this ask! I really hope you like it :)

Prompt list: "How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?"

Send me a prompt!

2.2k | read it on Ao3

let's have conversations in the dark

Time seems to stand still whenever you need it to rush, and TK had learned it from a young age. The clocks seem to play a trick and decide not to move the way they're supposed to, just to prove whoever was staring that, even if time is merely a human concept, it still holds power over their existence.

It's something he had learned to deal with, only because he really needed to. Since he was a kid, his father would end up in a hospital, and he would be in the waiting room, staring at the clocks and hoping for the moment he would look back and see that it wasn't too bad to wait in there.

Time would pretend not to exist while TK would ask anyone above their heads to bring his father back home.

And, yet as a kid, TK would stare at the clocks and count the seconds until the time he knew both his mother and father would leave work. He would sit by the kitchen counter with his dinner and stare at the pointers, his leg bouncing and his heart racing, expecting the minute they would walk in through the door and look at his new "super-awesome" dinosaur pajama.

Time would go too fast until they would say it was time for him to sleep, and the nights would go too slow just for him to see that none of them were home by the morning.

Growing up, TK would try to fool the clocks, pretending he was having fun when he needed time to go faster and lying about how boring things were whenever he wanted the minutes to freeze for a few hours. It was silly, he could see, but also endearing ― according to Enzo.

He would slowly learn how to deal with it, though, not playing tricks on time anymore ― he would take a deep breath and just accept things as they were, hoping that the waiting would turn out to have a happy ending. TK would go out for a walk, watch a movie or a random show, or start some new book he had left on his shelf for far too long.

He would make peace with time until the moment he began to wish that time didn't even exist at all.

It was funny when he looked back to see how much things changed in a couple of years. The nights he would wish that never came so he could stay awake a bit more would become his only refugee and shelter from his parents' fights or absence, and the hours he spent crying would be just known for him and the walls. The sunny days he loved so deeply would become torture, people asking why he didn't go out or acted like a typical teenager, enjoying life and the young years.

And when he couldn't even remember how the days passed by, TK would wish the clocks to stop moving. Just for a bit ― just so he could rest. Just so he didn't have to cry for one more night.

It was weird just how that time wasn't a long time ago. And even more when, sometimes, those thoughts would take up TK's mind, hours, and seconds.

He was getting better, though, in both time and misery management. Sure, the clocks still stopped whenever he needed or desperately wanted it to go faster and rush whenever he wanted more time, but he was getting better at dealing with his agony and deception.

Especially when, after a shift from hell, even if it was only a twelve-hour one, TK got to get home to Carlos.

It was a Friday, and the both of them had the weekend off. Although they had planned to take a trip to Marble Falls, less than an hour from Austin, so they could relax and have some time to enjoy each other's company, Carlos getting sick had terminated that they wouldn't get too far out of the house.

Carlos got pretty upset over it, apologizing and saying that he didn't mean to ruin their plans ― and TK had only hugged Carlos close to his chest, trying to take the groundless guilt out of the man's mind. He dismissed every apology, saying that the only thing that mattered was that Carlos would get better so they could plan their trip again.

It had happened on a Wednesday, and TK had taken Thursday off after they had to take a ride to the ER within the late hours of the night ― or early ones in the day, for that matter. Carlos was running out of air and vomiting everything he didn't have in his stomach, and his fever was high enough for TK to cry when waiting for the doctor ― and, when she came, he couldn't get himself to pay attention as he should have.

His boyfriend was whimpering, crying, and asking for them to go home, and TK wasn't strong as he needed to be at that moment. The clocks wouldn't tick by, and Carlos would ask how long they've been there every five minutes, and TK would only wish it was nothing, and he only needed some fluids and regular medication.

TK knew it wasn't too serious ― he was experienced enough to know that ― but seeing Carlos in pain was a hell-sent experience. He would get withdrawn and make himself look small, silently begging for it to stop and searching for any contact TK could offer. TK would offer him a smile, some comfort words, and would caress his sweaty, messy curls just to get a shadow-ish grin in response.

It was worthy, though.

When Carlos got discharged, a few hours after he was admitted, TK messaged Grace so she could talk to Tommy and Judd ― who would tell the rest of the team ―, and Andrea and Gabriel, letting them know that he was okay. Both Grace and Carlos' mother had offered to make them some soup, and TK knew better than decline any offer, sending a thumbs up and a heart.

Against his will, he had gone to work Friday morning, his heart getting lighter when Grace knocked on their door minutes before he had to go. Carlos was still sleeping, curled upon himself, and TK pressed a kiss to his forehead before hugging Grace tight and leaving to the fire station.

And no matter how much he trusted Grace or how deeply he loved his job, he had spent the whole shift staring at some clock whenever he could. He wanted to go home, ask how Carlos was doing, and then let the other man curl himself against his side to feel some sense of protection ― he just wanted to see his boyfriend again and make sure he was there.

So, TK had taken a shower at the station before accepting Judd's ride to get Grace and check on Carlos, thanking God when he waited in the car, and Grace was already by the door. He loved them both, he really did ― but he didn't want to be cordial at the moment.

TK walked up the stairs silently, thanking God that their room was further in the hallway than it was in the condo they'd lost to the fire. His bag and shoes were left by the locked door, and he had thrown his hoodie somewhere in the living room.

He stepped lightly inside their bedroom, smiling fondly at the sight of Carlos lying on his back with one of his arms thrown over his face and the other in the vacant space that belongs to TK. His chest was rising and falling more smoothly than it was on the two previous days, and the paramedic couldn't help but sigh in relief at that.

Not wanting to wake his boyfriend up, TK made his way to their bathroom to take his clothes off, except for his boxers, and brush his teeth, stretching his back and letting the day settle behind him. Knowing he wouldn't fall asleep so easily ― worrying was inevitable ― TK walked to the bookshelf they had in their bedroom, taking one of the books he had bought and had yet to read it.

Then, he took his steps to their bed, where Carlos had already moved his arm from, and sat with his back pressed against the headboard, taking one of the blankets and covering his legs. He smiled at the man beside him before making himself comfortable and opening the first pages of the book, sighing in relief to be home.

TK didn't make it to the third page when Carlos groaned and turned his body, stretching his arm and loosening it to fall over the paramedic's lap and the book he was reading. TK blinked in surprise, turning to Carlos and then chuckling softly, his heart swelling with how much he loved that moment.

"Miss'd 'ou," Carlos grumbled, getting closer to TK and making him slip down a little so his boyfriend could hug his waist, at least. The paramedic closed the book, then, putting it over the bedside table, and turned lowered his eyes again, watching Carlos' sleepy face.

"I missed you, too, babe," TK said. "How are you feeling?"

It took Carlos a bit to process the question, his fogged brain still too deep in unconsciousness. When he did, he snuggled even closer, his head almost placed over TK's stomach and his arm not hugging him but still thrown over his frame.

"I'm good," Carlos said. "I missed..." he stopped, almost drifting to sleep again. TK thought he would, but then he took another breath, leaning closer to TK's fingers on his hair. "You," the man completed, and TK smiled fondly.

"Me too, love," TK said. "Are you comfortable like this?"

"Uh-hu," Carlos answered and then frowned. TK watched, his fingers scratching his boyfriend's nape. "Are you― I am not― the door," the man grumbled, and TK noticed he wasn't in their room anymore but somewhere in his sleep-fogged mind.

"What?" TK asked anyway. Carlos groaned, and TK thought he would pull away, but he seemed to think twice and froze in place.

"Did you get the... the rings?" Carlos mumbled, and TK frowned with a smile.

"The rings, sweetheart?" he asked, moving down a bit each second to be lying down like Carlos. His neck would be thankful in the following morning.

"Yeah," Carlos agreed, and TK was more than sure that he didn't know what he was agreeing to.

"Which ones?" TK asked again, watching as Carlos' lips parted so he could breathe better between each sentence.

"The... Uh," Carlos mumbled, now against TK's chest. "Saturn," he completed, and TK held back a chuckle that could wake him up. Instead, he passed his arm around Carlos, hugging him close, and took another of the blankets to cover his boyfriend.

"Saturn? I don't think I have them, love," TK said, an inch of supposed sadness in his voice. When he thought Carlos had fallen asleep once more, his boyfriend snuggled even closer.

"'ts okay," Carlos said. "Love you," he mumbled, and TK's breath got caught in his throat as if it was the first time he had heard Carlos say that he loved him.

He looked down at the man cuddled around him, and his mind settled with the peace he hadn't felt in forever. Time, well-known for its games and tricks, seemed to realize just how wide, gigantic, and precious that moment was, stopping in its tracks and lingering in the air just like those promises TK never dared to break apart.

Suddenly, there was silence and a quiet realization of the loudest of TK's feelings ― suddenly, there was just who they were, in all their greatness and insignificance, and it was enough.

It was enough, and it was real. Unlike the concepts of life, death, time, it was real, tangible, there, and theirs. Unlike the unknown presence of an unexistent villain, the clocks seemed to realize that there was something there that no one could ever put in words. Unlike all the demons, and the waiting rooms, and the sleepless nights and the feeling they hold, there was peace.

And there was a certainty TK could never see coming.

So, he smiled because there was nothing else to summarize what he was feeling.

"How weird is it that I just realized I want to marry you?" he whispered to the silence, Carlos' breaths slow and steady, indicating how he was already deep in his sleep. TK sighed, staring at the man he loved as if he was the most precious thing to be something on Earth, and lifted his head to press a kiss to the messy, brown curls.

He stretched his other arm, then, and took Carlos' hand in his, watching as, unconsciously, his boyfriend's fingers tangled around his own, a sigh escaping from his parted lips.

"I love you," TK confessed, his voice echoing in the room. "And I'll get the rings, too. Soon," he said again, his heart thundering in his chest with how sweet and sure the words sounded out of his lips. Carlos didn't move, and TK closed his eyes so he could join his lover in his sleep. "Promise."

And time didn't dare to rush their beating hearts, lulling them to sleep in peaceful silence and a glowing ticking of frozen clocks.

[sevendeadlymorons]

Hey I’m that one anon from a while back that sent those long ass paragraphs about Lilith and Simeon, remember me? Anyway I know I’m very late to the party, but some of the boys are either getting to much hate or too much love over here (in my opinion) so I made a pros and cons list for all of them, I’m sorry- (I’m warning you now this will be long but I’ll put it in bullet points so it’s a bit easier to read, just read it whenever your mentally ready lol)

Lucifer (I hate this man.)

Pros

He’d help a lot with getting your life together wether that be finding a job, choosing the right college or other shit like that

He’d make sure your working hard and getting everything done, which is both a blessing and a curse tbh

He would be the one to take the most care of you whenever your ill psychically

Cons

He would probably overwork you

Doesnt have much time to spend on you and doesn’t make a effort to find more time unless your getting really sad about it

Probably wouldn’t be the best of help through issues with mental illness (he just doesn’t strike me as that type, feel free to disagree)

His pride would cause some serious problems in relationships :/

Mammon (I love this man.)

Pros

He’s the “if your sad, I’m sad” kind of guy so he does whatever he can to put a smile on your face

Makes his affection towards you known once he’s comfortable enough, mostly through things like hugs and head pats tho

He shows off anything you make, and I mean anything (you gave him a drawing? After showing it to everyone he puts it on the fridge. You wrote something? He reads it to everyone then puts it in his notebook to reread later, I think you get where I’m going with this)

Cons

There would probably be some communication issues due to his tsundere nature and habit of ignoring you when he’s mad

He’d get super mad at you when your trying to help him financially, maybe it’s a ego thing or maybe he’s just tired of hearing it

While his possessiveness is cute at times he’d definitely get way to overbearing if you don’t force him to cool it

Levi (I kin this man.)

Pros

He’d try to set up designated hangout times (like Friday is movie night, Tuesday is for RPGs etc)

Wanna spend time with him but aren’t very into what he’s into? While it will be harder to bond with him because of this I think if you REALLY wanted to hang with him he’d at least try to meet you in the middle (like if you like sports he’ll offer to play wii sports lol)

Insecurities getting you down again? Well never fear, levi is here! He’d find characters with flaws similar to those you see in yourself to prove that they don’t really matter (and since he struggles with insecurity himself he’d know how you feel and be one of the best at helping you through them)

Cons

Even if he makes an effort to meet you in the middle if you have different interests he’d refuse to get into “normie” stuff

He’ll guilt trip you constantly, even if it’s not on purpose (“Oh your hanging out with Asmo today? I get it, of course you’d wanna hang out with somebody cool and perfect like Asmo and not a gross yucky otaku like me”)

You have to initiate almost everything Hugs? You hug first. Handholding? You reach out to him. Confessions? You seriously thought he’d be the one to confess first??

Satan

Pros

Similar to Lucifer he’d be good at helping you get your life together and putting you on the right track

Unlike Lucifer, he’d actively make time for date nights and/or hangouts multiple times a week wether your going out for dinner or reading in front of the fireplace

While he himself might not be best at helping with comfort in the moment, he’d be great to turn to if you needed a long time treatment (you need a therapist? He’s got the best three in your area that you can afford and he found some helpful things you can do in this book)

Cons

As stated previously, he’s not the best with comfort, which can be an issue if you need a friend/partner who can be your biggest source of comfort (I’m not saying he’ll do nothing, it’ll just be kinda awkward ig)

If you vent to him about something he’ll always offer advice and while that can be good, sometimes all you want is someone to listen to you and getting advice can be annoying in the moment

I feel like hanging out with him you’d rarely ever get to talk about pointless things, everything would be serious you know? And while serious and deep conversations are good for bonding, some people (myself included) need to be able to talk about dumb things without having it turn philosophical

Asmo

Pros

He’s the best at boosting your confidence, there’s no competition

He’s more into spontaneous outings (he suddenly got the urge to go shopping, your coming with right?)

You can talk about just about anything with him, no judgment and he’ll never speak a word of it to anyone else if you don’t want him to (although he may brag to his brothers that you told him your secrets)

High emotional IQ

Cons

He has set things of things he’s interested in and his idea of trying the things your into is doing whatever it is for about 5 seconds then deciding it’s not for him

He cares a lot about looks, I don’t mean he’ll hate you or insult you cause he thinks your ugly, I mean he’ll constantly try to do your makeup, hair, and nails and he’ll always say things like “Your hair is a bit messy today, did you brush it? Yes? Well not good enough, let me do it” and “your wearing that out? There’s nothing wrong with it, I just think you’d look a lot cuter in this” and if your anything like me, that’ll get on your nerves a lot

While he’s great with emotional issues, if it’s a problem with anything like school or your job he’ll have no solution to offer, all you’ll get is a “You can do it!” and a good luck kiss

Narcissistic, need I say more?

Beel

Pros

He’s the best person to vent to, no judgment and tons of hugs and comfort food

He’s a mom friend, no explanation needed

Very supportive and always concerned for your health

Your in trouble? Call beel, he’ll help you and make sure your home safe before questioning you and will only lecture you out of love (unlike a certain older brother that will lecture you because “Your tarnishing Diavlo’s reputation by acting out like this. Your an exchange student, you must abide by the rules and behave yourself.”)

Cons

Food is his answer to everything (Sad?Food. Injured? Food. School’s stressful? Food plus a little help studying) and while food can be good for comfort, sometimes you need him to provide more than a snack

He’s the opposite of Satan in the sense that he’ll almost never offer advice when you rant to him, he just assumes getting it all out is help enough and won’t offer much more then a hug and food

Not getting along with one of his brothers? “They can be a handful, but they’re great people once you learn to handle the chaos” yeah he rarely thinks what his brothers did is a big deal so he gives you advice on how to apologize and get past it and he’ll give you food

Belphie (he really does attract the mentally ill people huh-)

Cons

I feel like he’d be good for certain people with social anxiety and people who have issues with always being scared about being a bad person (“you think your a bad person and are becoming more and more toxic by the day? Well your a better person than Lucifer that’s for sure, wether or not your toxic were going to cuddle now get in bed” or “your worried everyone is constantly staring and judging you for everything you do? Well I don’t really care about what your wearing or the way you walk so I doubt they do either, can we go home now?” ((Side note, I experience both of these issues and his uncaring personality would calm me, which is why I think this one of his pros))

He just wouldn’t care about whatever type of life style you lead and as someone who’s constantly scared of being judged for their lifestyle this would be amazing (“you sleep all the time? Same let’s nap together” “You don’t eat very healthy? Whatever, it’s fine, can we sleep now?” ((although it is a double edged sword))

He gets a burst of energy and just does the most random things (you see that tree? He’s already climbed half way up it. That petting zoo? He’s already feeding the lambs. That store? He’s already spent 30 grim)

Cons

Just like his twin he thinks every problem has one solution, but instead of food he thinks the solution is sleep (your sick? Sleep is the best medicine. A lot of homework? If you sleep you don’t have to think about it.)

At some point he just doesn’t care enough, if you come to him with a serious issue he’ll half listen to you rant then pull you down to sleep

He teases you a lot, which is fine teasing is fun, but he takes it too far. Maybe he touched on something your insecure about or he was too merciless, whatever it was, he won’t apologize for it, he just thinks your being sensitive. If he brought up some bad memories he’ll consider it, but his way of apologizing is cuddling

He doesn’t wanna do something? You guys aren’t gonna do it. You don’t wanna do something? Too bad, he wants to so your gonna.

I’m sorry this is so long- I tried to shorten it I swear- but anyway if you disagree I’m with anything, I wanna hear what you think

And even tho Beel doesn’t get much screen time and more serious moments, I think his character is way more then hunger

Random but I wanna add that other then Levi I kin Tamaki from mha and Ranpo from bsd

Dude do you just like torturing poor college students? This is so much to read, I’m about to cry 😭

I agree with the Lucifer part actually! Tho I do kinda thing he’s be good emotion support in some ways, for me, anyway. I feel like he may lack empathy that is needed in a stable relationship. Yes, he may be able to tell you with shit and honestly, he’d book my doctors appointments when I’m too anxious too so yknow. But yeah

Also agree with mammon. He’s a jackass when he wants to be, and I know he may not mean it, but his words are still hurtful in a lot of ways and he just can’t convey those emotions that’re needed in a loving relationship. But he’s so sweet and will show you off so it’s all good~

As much as I love Levi, I agree. He manipulates and guilt trips you throughout the entire game. It can’t be healthy in relationships but that don’t stop me from loving that sweet otaku boy 😔🖤

I agree with Satan too. I don’t have much to say but he’s avatar of wrath for a reason, for a start, and he honestly looks like he’d prefer talking about books than that funny thing that happened in class that made you laugh earlier

Agreed with Asmo too. Sometimes he may just get overbearing and the narcissism and the constant need to make you look better and improve you may get irritating

I agree with Beel. I don’t think he can comprehend that food isn’t an answer to everything and as a person who doesn’t cope with food and relatively hates it, he won’t be any help to me emotionally. He’s so sweet but he just won’t give you that proper support

I love Belphie so so much but I absolutely agree. He’s one of the most unbothered brothers who won’t care what you look like, yes, but that also means compliments may come rarely and like his twin, “sleep is the answer to everything” I can admit I like to sleep but I have a manic side that comes with insomnia and if he’s dragging me down and not letting me move and I just cannot sleep, I’m gonna get irritated and pissed off.

This got a bit long on my end too. I just really liked how you worded this and it was fun to see pros and cons of the ‘perfect’ brothers

I think Beel is more than food too, but I just don’t particularly like him either way cuz I’m not really a foodie so I can’t relate with him lmao

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 8, Previously On

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: As they seek out Vision a Westview that doesn’t seem to want them to find him, more memories from [Y/N]’s past begin to appear. They almost seem drawn out of the dark depths of their mind by some unseen force but it’s hard to tell whether it’s friend or foe. Who is forcing [Y/N]’s memories to the forefront of their mind--Wanda or someone else?--and is it tied to the suddenly hostile Westview blocking them from finding Vision? Who is trying to keep them distracted?

Word count: 6,584

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and declining mental health. Mostly angst, tbh.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @austynparksandpizza @sophster1881 @haileyybird​ @maceidelic​ @alexpress @angelvinella

Ko-Fi Shoppe

~~~

You were too busy trying to calm the anxious gnawing in your stomach to notice Westview subtly changing around you. It wasn’t until a vine wrapped tightly around your ankle and made you almost trip and fall face-first into a fire hydrant that you looked around with a frown.

    The vine itself—thick, spiky, and definitely not native to the suburbs of New Jersey—had sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk, which spread and opened further as other vines crept after it. After tearing the one holding you off and stepping out of its reach, you noticed the fences of houses reaching far past their yards to create maze-like paths that covered the sidewalks and street ahead of you. The houses that these fences belonged to were also warped in a way that made them look like you were viewing them through funhouse mirrors, stretching far into the sky and bending overhead in your direction like they meant to block you from leaving in that direction—or meant to block you from being seen by anyone flying overhead.

    Your eyebrows arched so far up on your forehead that you weren’t sure that they were still there. “What the fuck is going on?”

    You weren’t as concerned about the magic happening itself—if some random civilian walked by, they’d barely react at all and the maze and houses weren’t causing any actual damage, just being incredibly annoying—as you were by the fact that you couldn’t tell who was doing it. Your first thought was Wanda, naturally, but it made no sense that she’d be trying to keep you from finding Vision when she was the one who’d originally sent you to go get him; not to mention that she’s never created such a bizarre display of magic, at least intentionally. You considered yourself next, as you’ve known yourself to cause random transmutations when you get too antsy, but this wasn’t the type of power that you controlled and when you tried to reach out to interact with the energy, you received opposition instead of energy bending to your will. It was somewhat difficult to pick out because it seemed to hide away under the blanket of Wanda’s magic that reached across everything in Westview, but the aura of the twisted architecture surrounding you was dark and hostile.

    You first attempted to humor whatever magic was at play and made your way through the maze but as you did so, the fences shifted around you to extend their white picket prison. You stopped and sighed. “The end is nigh… and I am not going to spend it dealing with this shit.”

    A little voice in the back of your head told you that you could probably set fire to the whole magic mirror setup and be done with it but you ultimately decided against it; Wanda would probably find out and definitely wouldn’t be happy when she did. Instead, you placed your hands on the fence and as you did so, posts morphed into gates that you could easily pass through. You continued through the maze via this method and were surprised to feel the opposing magic back away from you after your pushback.

    “Oh, thank god,” you grumbled under your breath as you made it through the last of the maze. 

Unfortunately, you celebrated too early as the cement underneath your feet suddenly began to melt back into its liquid form. It would have been fairly easy to use your powers to reharden the cement but exhausting yourself fighting with the opposing force until the sidewalks of Westview shifted into grassy fields on its outskirts seemed like a bad idea in the long run, especially with the twins’ disappearance, Wanda dealing with Agnes’s strange behavior, Monica’s return, and the warning churn of your stomach telling you to stay alert. So, you settled for trudging along through wet cement until the magic decided to back off again.

Not so much trying to cause damage as it’s trying to mildly inconvenience me, is it? you thought.

Just as before, once the magic trying to keep you distracted was rivaled by your own, it receded and you were soon walking on the regular, hard sidewalk once more. You cleaned your pants and shoes up by turning the wet cement still clinging to them into something much more manageable—water—and continued on your way. Sorting through the mix of concern, nips of mild hunger, and the energy-seeking compass in the center of your now twisting in every which direction, you managed to eventually focus back into the feeling of Vision somewhere in the distance. It got stronger as you walked, so you began to pick up the pace.

Then your unseen opponent returned, stronger and now in the mental realm instead of the physical. At first, you thought the kickback was just Westview’s borders—the Hex, Monica had called it—trying to right the wrongs of someone within it having memories of the outside world, something you’d experienced before. However, you felt the menace rippling underneath the surface of the haze and when you tried to fight back this time, you were met with an angry strength. The fog making your head feel heavy seemed to spread through your bloodstream and take home in your bones, weighing your body down until you stood still and lame in the middle of a random neighborhood. You were a prisoner in your own body; you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you didn’t even know if you did because your brain was so full of dark storm clouds that you couldn’t think straight. You knew that you stared slack-jawed into space but it felt more like you were sitting in a dark room inside your skull and watching the outside world from a TV screen. As you watched on, the fog that took over your mind and body took your eyesight too.

===

===

===

The first few memories were fleeting. 

You were a few years old and holding your mother’s hand. It was much less boney and knotted than you remembered your mother’s hand being, as was the rest of her. She was younger and stronger, standing next to you in a worn nurse uniform and overcoat and staring ahead with a scowl, concealing whatever emotions she was feeling otherwise. You were in a bedroom that was only vaguely familiar to you and the two of you watched an old man that was barely more than a skeleton slept under a heap of fraying blankets. As you stared on through the wide eyes of your child self, your grandfather heaved a final breath before falling into a deep, eternal slumber.

A couple of years older, you were in the old but cozy, sunny yellow kitchen that your mom love to cook in. You sat at the dining room table, kicking your legs and picking at the splitting wood as your mother and a stranger argued in the other room. You had never heard your mother raise her voice to such an extent before but at the time, you were much more concerned about what kind of sandwich you were going to help her make for lunch. You never saw the stranger aside from a flash of [H/C] as he left and he was never seen or heard of again.

You were still in the kitchen but its appearance had changed ever so slightly. Yours did too, as you were a teenager now, and now your mother sat across from you at the table. Though she was still healthy now, her overall haggard appearance would be one that she carried on for years to come. She was telling you about her doctor’s appointment but you were only somewhat listening as you were stressed about high school drama and final assignments to be turned in before summer break. You heard words like “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” but the meanings were lost on you in that moment.

Then you were in a nursing home. You could feel the harsh lighting, hear the TV from the lounge behind you. The smell of cleaning supplies burned your nostrils but the smell of your mother’s stale perfume soothed it. Unfortunately, nothing could soothe the ache that made your heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and die when you came to tell her that you changed your major in college so you would be better equipped to help her, only for her unable to recall having a child at all.

You were pinned against a wall in a Sokovian HYDRA base, although you didn’t know the organization that you were studying with was HYDRA at the time. Shivers of equal parts fear and exhilaration made your entire body quiver and the clipboard you’d been holding clattered to the ground. While a large group of Sokovian war protestors had to hunch together to fit in the cramped and cold holding room, Wanda seemed to take up the majority of the space just from her spot of holding you into place. Her hair was a mess and her face and clothes were dirty but her eyes were full of more life than you’d experienced during your entire time working in the base. She was angry and determined and powerful and gorgeous, and she told you that if you ever ran into her again that she’d kill you—and you were surprised with how okay you were about the idea, as long as you got to see her again. When she let you go and you apologized, she told you what she and the others were doing here; this was the catalyst that sent you investigating into HYDRA and finding out about their much more sinister nature, as well as the pain you’d helped cause.

Finally, the slide show of memories slowed and instead of being confined to your brain, you were back in your own body—or so you thought until you looked around and found yourself staring at a younger copy of yourself. Instead of Westview, you were in a HYDRA testing room, and instead of simply re-experiencing, you were quite literally watching a memory unfold around you as if you were an unwanted audience member standing around the active set of a TV show. Or a ghost, you decided, as the younger you walked through you as if you were nothing but air.

Your younger self was dressed in an all-black work uniform and lab attire, with an identification card clipped to your chest that granted you high-level clearance. You’d worked immensely hard playing HYDRA’s game to get to where you were now, which was standing in the control room with two other agents and preparing to analyze the test about to unfold on the other side of a large glass window. In the test chamber, a door slowly slid open and Wanda, unkempt and spacey, entered.

You wanted to break her out. Judging by the way your younger self tensed up—not enough to be noticed by your superiors; you’d mastered your mother’s emotional lockdown of a scowl at this point—your feelings weren’t far off from the initial experience. 

Wanda made her way farther into the room, closer to a scepter with a glowing blue stone that was being held on a pedestal. As she did so, the younger you readied their clipboard and pen to take notes and one of the two agents spoke, “For our notes, Miss Maximoff, can you please state your name and confirm your status?”

The younger copy of your current partner did as she was told. “Wanda Maximoff. Volunteer.”

“Begin experimentation,” the other agent—a doctor and one of your immediate superiors—stated.

“Doctor,” the first man said, “with respect, not one subject has survived direct contac—”

He was broken off as the doctor flicked on the intercom to speak to Wanda again. “Touch the sample.”

Wanda made her way forward but before she could do much, the stone suspended in the scepter—the mind stone, you knew now—detached itself and floated towards her. As it got closer, its glow grew brighter and bright blue magic wafted over Wanda as she stared before reaching out to touch it. While you remembered this situation thus far, what happened next was completely new to you. The mind stone shattered before Wanda’s eyes, revealing yellow golden yellow magic that poured from the remains. There was an explosion of light and within it was a flash of a shadow. From where you were standing, you couldn’t quite make out the shape.

Then the light died and Wanda collapsed, and the rest of the memory ran as you remembered. The scientist and doctor ran out to check that Wanda was still alive, while your younger self recollected themselves enough to take pictures of notes and research reports from the control desk with an old school digital camera that they’d managed to sneak in.

“Well,” a familiar, incredibly out-of-place voice sounded from behind you, “that’s a surprise. I had no idea you and [Y/N] went so far back.”

You spun around to see Agnes and a modern Wanda standing just behind you. Agnes watched your echo with mild curiosity as they carefully rifled through the control desk and gathered as much information as they could to examine at a later time. The dark energy that radiated off the woman was the same that you’d sensed earlier, hiding just underneath Wanda’s own. Being this close to the unhidden source now, the magic felt sharp and acidic and tasted like bile on the back of your tongue. The anxiety that had been gnawing at your stomach increased tenfold as your guts twisted around themselves. It had been Agnes all along.

Past you finished their investigation as they were called in to take Wanda to solitary by one of the other HYDRA agents. When they rushed out of the control room, they passed through Wanda and Agnes, confirming that the women were in a similar state of being to you.

Surprisingly, Agnes was completely unaware of current you’s presence. She walked casually over to the desk and attempted to make sense of younger you’s rummaging before making a face and shrugging.

Wanda, on the other hand, was staring directly at you. To anyone else, it could be said that she was simply looking through you who the commotion happening in the test chamber, but when you met her gaze, the slightest of jaw clenches told you otherwise. While it was Agnes—Not Agnes, a ghost of a whisper in sounded in your head—whose magic had been toying with you, it seemed that it was Wanda’s doing, at least to some extent, that brought you to watch this scene with them. 

“You know,” the ravenette said, “I really did like them for a while. They were fun to string along for entertainment, and they were a hoot at events and to run errands with. Such an awkward little thing. I could see their crush from a mile away whenever you three were around each other. I just thought they’d be the out-of-place, pining neighbor whose love was unrequited, a comedic plot device of sorts. I didn’t think you would actually return their feelings, let alone both you and your husband, you naughty dogs. I should have known sooner that something was up.”

You and me both, sister, you thought with a soundless snort.

“Oh well,” Agnes—question mark?—said with another shrug, “our friendship was fun while it lasted. Let me know if you ever get bored with them. We did often flirt a bit, [Y/N] and I.”

“What do they have to do with any of this?” Wanda asked, throwing a mild glower in the other woman’s direction.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Agnes responded with a sickly sweet smile, then walked past Wanda and out of the testing room. “Come along, dear! We’ve got much more digging to do.”

Wanda glanced at you one last time before following. After a moment, you trailed after them.

===

===

===

Past Wanda was sitting and watching sitcoms via the one amenity she had the dungeon-like room she was held in when your past self walked in.

“Wanda,” past you gasped and moved to rush to her side before freezing and throwing a glance towards a security camera in one corner of the room. The faintest blue-black light danced appeared to dance around your echo’s fingers as the lens of the camera warped and changed into a round silver disc, then the light disappeared and you watched yourself hurry to younger Wanda’s side. 

She didn’t acknowledge you until you placed a gentle hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked face towards you; in the same instant, the TV turned off. 

Past Wanda offered past you a wobbly smile that you returned. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in colored foil that looked neon in comparison to the dull coloring of the rest of the environment.

“Hey, look, Wanda,” you tried, offering the candy to her, “I brought you something. Remember these? You told me once that they’re your favorite.”

Wanda stared blankly at your gift. After a moment, she took it and began picking at the foil.

Past you gave past Wanda another strained smile. Your furrowed brows caused deep lines to be etched into your forehead, showing no lack of concern, but you tried to stay positive. Gingerly running your hand up and down Wanda’s back, you carefully looked over as she freed the chocolate-covered candy from its wrapper. “You look good. You’re doing much better than you were when we brought you back.”

Wanda’s eyes lazily traced the pattern of the room’s stone walls as she brought her treat to her lips and carefully nibbled at it. When she found it free of tampering, she relaxed a bit and popped it into her mouth.

You watched as your past self rested their chin on her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to get you out of here, Wanda. I promise that I’m going to save you. I just… wish you’d let me help you more.”

Well, young me, you thought, you certainly broke that promise, then went off and murdered a bunch of people. Nice job.

Wanda’s past self finally fully acknowledged yours; she rested her head on top of yours and her thin fingers brushed brushed over the knuckles of one of your hands. She shook her head and mumbled, “I have to do this. For my people.”

Your echo sighed. The two of you sat like that together for a few moments longer before you separated yourself from her and headed out of the room. As you walked out of the room, the silver that blocked the security camera transformed back into a lens. Wanda looked back to the TV and blinked, and the television turned back on.

“Huh,” Agnes piped up to Wanda again, “they were just as piney here as they are in Westview then. Weird. I thought they had a reputation as a crazy psycho killer outside? Hoo boy, did you see any of the work that they did after Sokovia? I looked into it when I figured out that they weren’t just another ordinary townee. The Alchemist? Wished I’d managed to keep them on my side; I’d love to sit down and talk about all the ways they tore up those agents.”

You grimaced. You never regretted going on a HYDRA manhunt but it wasn’t exactly one of your most redeeming qualities.

Wanda frowned. “Trying to cope with all they had done while working with HYDRA was too much and they had to do it alone. I told [Y/N] I would return but then I never did. They thought it was their only solution.”

You were surprised to hear her empathize with you, let alone know about your revenge spree at all. You hadn’t realized how much it felt like a secret that you had been keeping from her until a weight was lifted off your shoulders when she talked about it.

“Still,” Agnes said nonchalantly, “turning an alive former HYDRA agent into a very much not alive scarecrow and leaving posting him up in his own field? Genius and I love the creativity. And the way they turned the guy who shot them into a bloody bag of bones? Delicious.

“But anyway,” she went on, the glee in her voice shifting to something more pensive, “little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.”

With a wave of her hand, a dark wood door appeared in the room’s far wall. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly with recognition and she immediately walked forward and through it. Agnes trailed cheerfully after her.

You made a move to follow them but you didn’t make it before Agnes shut the door behind her. You jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn’t budge, and then it melted back into the wall and vanished altogether. While you were relieved to be away from Agnes’s acrid magic, panic rose in the back of your throat at the idea of Wanda being alone with Agnes and you being trapped in a bizarre memory realm with no idea of how to get out. You ran your hands along the wall in hopes of finding the door’s outline once more, to no avail. You spun around to search for another route—

—and you were suddenly standing on a street in Westview. 

This wasn’t Westview as you currently knew it but Westview before Wanda had turned it into her special little safe haven. Instead of watching this memory like a movie, you were now involuntarily reliving it as a prisoner of your head again as your body and mouth move on its own accord.

You were paused mid-walk across the street and staring at a breathtakingly gleeful Vision for the very first time. He was standing out in the open without a human disguise of any kind, wearing a very attractive form-fitting turtleneck and looking over an empty plot of land. He must have felt you staring because he turned his warm, earth-shaking gaze towards you.

“Hello there!” he hollered with a friendly wave and a smile that made you wonder if one look from a stranger could make you weep over how attractive they were. He stepped from the dirt plot to the sidewalk, then made his way to the curb. He held a slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and you could see a red heart in its center out of the corner of your eye.

For whatever reason—maybe because of the fact that there was a very inhuman-looking man, who was causing your body to have all sorts of reactions, walking towards you—you felt compelled to walk over and meet him. 

“Excuse me,” Vision said as you got closer and pointed to the lot behind him, “I’m looking to buy this spot here. Do you live around here?”

Temporarily, while I try to look for a cure for my dumb-bitch memory disease, you thought. Instead of saying this aloud, though, you said something much more stupid. “Are you aware that you’re red?”

Vision blinked. He looked at his hands if he was in fact just now realizing this, then looked back at you with wide eyes. One hand moved to touch the golden gem embedded in his forehead, which you now connected to the mind stone on the previous memory that you had experienced—Wanda’s memory. 

“Oh, goodness,” Vision said, “yes I am. I’m sorry, I hope my appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I could make a more appealing one—”

You felt yourself break into a grin and one of your hands waved itself dismissively at him. “Not sure there’s a way to make yourself any more appealing than you already are. It’s just unusual is all.”

Vision chewed on one side of his bottom lip before smiling sheepishly at you. If only you’d been able to tell when this interaction had actually happened that he was “blushing” in the only way his synzethoid body allowed over you complimenting him; you would have had a field day with making him flustered.

Then his eyes drifted slightly above your eyeline and the hand touching his forehead gem fluttered slightly to the right—his left. Without thinking of how it might come off, he said, “You’re unusual-looking yourself.”

Luckily, you weren’t too easily offended. You briefly touched the gunshot scar on your forehead with one hand, the exit wound scar on your neck with the other, before dropping them both and shrugging. “Got shot in the head once. Operation gone wrong.”

“A soldier?” 

Unfortunately, the version of you in this memory was already struggling to recall memories. Instead of telling the pretty stranger that, though, you said, “Something like that.”

Vision nodded and awkwardly fiddled with the paper in his hands. His gaze flitted around before settling on you again, “Well, I think you’re appealing too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm but you hid your embarrassment with a snicker. “Thanks.”

The man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good then, isn’t it? That we both like each other’s looks just fine. Not… that I want you to find my visuals appealing. Not— not that that’s a bad thing to be doing so either! It’s just that—” he paused to collect himself. “I have a partner. A girlfriend of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“It hasn’t really been discussed,” he clarified, “but we are deep in the throughs of our relationship.”

“Congrats? Also yeah.”

Vision blinked. “I’m sorry?”

You pointed over your shoulder. “I live around here. In a hotel more often than a home but I’m considering getting a rental a couple houses over.”

Because if I don’t find who I’m looking for—a doctor? Scientist maybe?—I’ll be stuck here until I remember where I came from.

    You were brought out of your grumbling thoughts by the childish excitement that erupted from Vision’s shining smile and spread throughout his body until he was practically vibrating. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way over and flashed the paper he held at you, then almost immediately folded it up before you could actually see anything other than a flash of red on white. He told you how wonderful it was to be meeting someone from the neighborhood and before you open your mouth to say anything in response, a billion questions seemed to pour one after the other from his mouth. You caught a few—did you know why the plot he was looking at was open, if there was a nefarious reason behind it lacking any home already? Was the neighboorhood safe, did you like it there?—but you soon found yourself distracted by the way the gear-like patterns in his blue irises swirled faster as Vision became increasingly giddy.

    Then one word came flying out of his rambling mouth and you felt like you had been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. You actually had to stop yourself from choking on a gasping breath and steel yourself in preparation in case he said her name again. Luckily, Vision seemed too deep in his his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you blanching from the kickback of yours.

    Wanda? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other Wandas in the world. Then again, you’d never met another Wanda since your Wanda and there was something about her name coming from his mouth that assured you that his Wanda was yours too.

    Is that why you had come to Westview? Was Wanda the one you were looking for?

    You placed a hand on Vision’s shoulder, both as a way of grounding yourself and grabbing the man’s attention. It worked and Vision’s bumbling died off as he looked at you with wide eyes.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said, and lifted his free hand to scratch at the side of his neck, “I got quite carried away there, didn’t I?”

    This past version of you wanted so desperately ask about the Wanda he spoke of, to confirm that she was the Wanda that you’d known in what seemed to be a past life at this point. You wanted to know if she was safe, happy, and if he was taking care of her in the way that she so needed after everything she had been through. When you looked at Vision, though, and the plot plans in his hand and the place of his and her future home, you bit your tongue. Something told you that it wasn’t your time to ask nor was it your right to do so. It had been so long since you’d tried to help the Sokovian woman escape a dingy HYDRA base and failed, and wherever she was now, she was probably better off without you intruding.

    You put on a mask of a friendly smile to hide the way your heart was being picked to pieces by a thousand imaginary needles and gave Vision’s shoulder an equally friendly pat. “No worries. I do have to stop you, though, have an appointment to get to. I’m really not the person to ask about future home life—like I said, usually a hotel—but if I have anything to tell you, it’s that this is a good place to settle.”

    Vision beamed. “Really?”

    You dropped your arm and stepped away from the robotic stranger to take your leave. “This place is easy to turn into a home. You’ll love it here.”

    Vision heaved a sigh a relief and he waved to you and you gave a parting nod and began walking. “Thank you! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, neighbor! Hope to see you again soon!”

    Something deep in your heart told you that you wouldn’t be seeing the British gentleman again, or maybe you were finally coming to terms with the fact that your brain would drop yoru memory of him before the day was over. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, trying to commit every detail of Vision to memory the best that you could, before heading back across the street.

    “Looking forward to it!”

===

===

===

    One minute you were walking and the next you couldn’t feel any part of your body that was below your waistline. The scene had shifted again and you now found yourself staring spacily off ahead. You were outside and you felt the familiar presence of a large facility behind you but you couldn’t place what the building was for or why you were there. In fact, try as you might, you couldn’t place much meaning to anything. Your brain was blank aside from several questions that you had no answers to.

    Why were you in a wheelchair? What had happened to your legs? Why were you outside? Why were there old people and people in scrub uniforms milling around you and talking to you in passing as if you had any idea who they were? Where was your mom? You had classes to attend and needed a ride.

    You took a sighing breath and felt a tanginess of citrus on your tongue that sent shockwaves throughout your body—or what left of it that you could feel. Your eyes shot open wide and you swung your head around, looking for the source of the taste of candied citrus, the feeling of thin fingers carefully brushing across your knuckles. There was a memory there, clawing just under the surface of thought-killing fungus that seemed to have taken over your head over… however long it had been now. You just had to remember—

    Before you could could remember, you saw her appear before your very eyes. She was walking down the street past you with only a green yard and strip of sidewalk separating the two of you. She wore a dark outfit and her hair cascaded behind her in the breeze, fluttering like flames. You couldn’t see her face well because of the distance you could feel the deep, powerful sadness radiating off her in waves; it was almost strong enough to force you into tears. Still, she walked with purpose and she held a piece of paper in her hand that she glanced at every other second. She happened to turn her head to toss a stray chunk of her back over her shoulder and for a brief moment you thought that her dark eyes met yours.

    You screamed her name and attempted to chase after her. However, in that moment, you forgot that you were paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair, so when you lurched forward to stand, you were quickly greeted by hard earth knocking the wind out of you. You hissed in pain but the impact didn’t stop you, nor did your lack of working legs. You shoved the wheelchair away in a fit of irritation, then began crawling your way across the public yard, following a trail of a very specific shade of red as you dragged your body along.

    You didn’t make it very far before you felt strong hands grasp your shoulders. You flailed around, prepared to fight whoever was trying to disrupt your mission, only for you stop struggling altogether when a flash of reddish hair appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up at and stared at the only face that held solidity in your mind with eyes the size of dinner plates as she knelt next to you and helped you into a decent sitting position. Once you were settled, her hands moved from your arms to cradling your face and when you could see the heartbreak in her eyes this time, you actually did feel a few tears wet your cheeks.

    Your eyes fluttered shut as her gentle hands caressed your face, brushed away the tears that were now flowing like a waterfall. Your own hands found their way to her waist and you held on for dear life. With a wobbly voice that was barely above a whisper, you gasped her name again, “Wanda…”

    You felt the warm touch of her forehead pressing against yours, her nose ungracefully bumping against your cheek as she held you. “[Y/N]?”

    Hearing your name on her tongue sent you into a fit of sobbing laughter, though you weren’t sure why. Goosebumps erupted across your skin and you felt the stuttering of a billion bird’s wings in your stomach, pounding against your ribcage. You had so many things you wanted to say and yet you could remember a single word, so you merely fell into a bumbling chant of “My Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda…” Your eyes stayed squeezed shut for fear that if you opened them, she would no longer be there. 

    Wanda’s lips brushed against your eyelids and then your cheeks, not quite leaving kisses but a warm, tingly feeling nonetheless. A smile was there, you could feel the curve of it as her mouth traveled from your temple to your hairline, but it was one of the same sadness that you’d seen in her eyes. She mumbled against your scarred forehead, “Oh, [Y/N], what happened to you…?”

    You finally opened your eyes—luckily, she didn’t vanish into thin air once you did—and finally met her gaze again. You moved your hands to cover hers that still held your face and pressed them harder against your cheeks, as if you could imprint her fingerprints into your skin.

    After a moment of just silently basking in her presence, you sighed softly and replied, “I don’t know.”

    Pain further etched itself into the lines of Wanda’s face; you quickly reached out to smooth them out with your fingertips.

    “You don’t remember anything?”

    “Not much,” you replied. Then you smiled. “I know you. All I know for sure is you.”

    Wanda looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears herself but she swallowed her sobs instead. She adjusted her position and sat back slightly, scrubbed her hands over her eyes and looked around at your surroundings. She glanced at the paper she’d once been holding but now sat in the grass next to her before her gaze settled back on you. Sadness shifted into determination as she took your face her hands once more.

    “I’m going to get you out of here, [Y/N],” she said, “I promise I’m going to save you.”

    You went to nod but the sound of something flying overhead caught your attention, then a flash of yellow light over Wanda’s shoulder.

    A powerful jerk in your stomach seemed to control your entire body, forcing your head and body upward. Then you were standing on the sidewalk on the outskirts of a neighborhood with a maze of twisted houses and picket fences behind you. You were no longer trapped inside your own head, watching or reliving memories, but standing mid-step in the Westview that was bubbled by a Hex of modern Wanda’s own creation.

    Vision was flying through the air nearby and approaching fast.

    Your powers seemed to move one step ahead of your mind; before you finished the thought, one of the fun mirror houses was turned into a staircase that led to nowhere in the sky. As you turned and began racing up them, you waved your arms in Vision’s direction and hollered, “Hey! Toaster oven!”

    Vision was clearly on a mission home but you managed to catch his attention before he flew too far past you. He rounded back around and met you at the top of your stairs. He quickly surveyed your immediate surroundings, taking in the bizarre scenery before casting a concerned look your way. “What in the world is going on here?”

    “Uh, well,” you paused and took a glance around yourself, then rambled off, “I just spent a nondescript amount of time trapped in a mental live-action remake of my past and I’m pretty sure Agnes is not Agnes but some unpleasant, magic-y person who kidnapped our kids and now is trying to get… something, I’m not sure what, from Wanda. Also, I think she might have a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she caused the carnival set-up next to us.”

    Vision blinked. “Well, that’s… a lot.”

    You hummed your agreement and nodded. Then you held out your arms to him. “Shall we?”

    Vision eyed you from your place on a freshly mutated staircase then snorted softly as he gathered you into his arms, bridal style. “Surely there must be a way for you to travel with those powers of yours.”

    “There is,” you affirmed, “but this is probably faster and I should probably keep my strength to save our kids and your wife. Oh, by the way.”

    Vision gave you a questioning him as he prepared for flight. You wrapped your hands around his neck and brought your lips to his in an quick kiss. When you pulled away, you met his curious gaze and said, “I’m so happy to have met you.”

    Vision’s expression grew warmer and returned your kiss with a softer one of his own. He briefly nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling away.

    “I’m glad to have met you too,” he said softly. Then he shifted his gaze to look past you, towards home, and he said, “Now, let’s go get our family.”

[xsarcasticwriterx]

Wonderwall- part 4

Summary: The ultrasound and talk of things starts to raise some questions

Pairing: Tony stark x reader x bucky barnes/ with a tiny slice of stucky x reader (really tiny)

Warnings: Angst, talk of emotional/ physical abuse, lot of fucked up shit but not much else triggering i don't believe, Swearing,

Notes: This chapter is pretty fucked but uh it's got some fluff pfft (also ignore my random yeehawness coming out when i say y'all, k? thanks)

Wonderwall masterlist

You awoke to the feeling of warmth all around you. Opening your eyes you saw bucky in front of you his arm over your waist you smile but you see another arm. you look over your shoulder seeing steve and you give a soft smile. guess he fell asleep. you see him move a little before his eyes flutter open. he looks at you and then around. you turn slowly trying not to awaken bucky. “hi” you whisper. steve removes his arm from you and rubs his face “hey” he whispers back. “guess i fell asleep here” he said with a small smile. His blonde hair was messy and his eyes were half asleep. “come on” you whisper and get out of bed.

Stever follows after and you two walk outside. you sit on the steps and inhale the cold air. It was really late, or early depends how you look at it. Steve sat next to you “figured we could talk more out here without waking up buck” you said. steve nodded “makes sense to me” he said looking you over. you were curled into a ball rubbing your arms for warmth. “here” he said taking off his long sleeve shirt handing it to you. you smiled “thanks” you put it on inhaling the smell of him which was like soap honestly. 

You closed your eyes putting your head on steve's shoulder “you ok there?” steve asked. you shrugged “i dont know i’m pregnant and not with my boyfriends kid and i slightly worry what's going to happen to them.” you say opening your eyes and looking down while messing with your fingers.”What do you mean?’ steve asked. you thought over what you wanted to say. what could you say? you had no clue if this kid would have powers because you technically were born this way? That your father injected your pregnant mom with serums to save her and you and it only broke your life forever and didn't even save your mother. “y/n?” steve asked. you lifted your head looking over steves face. he was concerned and confused. 

He wanted to make sure you were ok but he also needed to know what you meant. you opened your mouth but then the door opened. “there you are” bucky said. you turned your head and smiled “hi sweetheart.” you say standing up with a smile.Steve was still confused as hell. “you ok there steveo?” buck asked. steve blinked looking at where you were clinging to bucky's side as steve held you close. It was like a complete 180 from how you were 5 seconds ago. “always buckeroo” steve said with a smile. “go back to sleep doll ill be in, in a few”  buck said to you. you looked at steve then buck and nodded slowly.

“whats up?” bucky asked steve. “I dont know...she...bucky what do you know of her y'know past like before nick fury got her?” steve asked. bucky shifted his weight from foot to foot. He knew everything, he had found you one night having a panic attack. You told him everything in a panic and he understood what it was like. It was how you two became so close. “why?” bucky asked. “she said she worry for what's going to happen to the baby. I don't know if she means raising them but from the sound of it and how nervous she was i assume that wasn't it.” steve said still concerned. Bucky nodded he knew what you meant. He pulled steve in for a hug “thanks for tell me steve” he said pulling away “don't worry about it i got it handled” bucky said patting steves cheek and walking in. steve sighed and walked to his room. 

--

You sat on the chair as the ultrasound transducer rubbed over your stomach “well it seems you are about a month pregnant. the baby is very healthy everything seems to be good so keep doing whatever your doing” she said putting up the wand “which of you is the father?” she asked and tony raised his hand. “but i'm the boyfriend” bucky said. the doctor nodded slowly “oh ok” she said “well uh you know just help her with the symptoms and everything but yall are good” she said with a smile. “uhm i do have one small question” she said. “there was something...strange i've never seen it before. It was like...an aura  around the baby” she said confused. you gulped looking up at the boys. they looked back at you. she wiped the gel off of you and with that y'all left in a rush

you slammed the car door and started to panic. once home you ran to your room “I’ll deal with it” bucky said. Tony grabbed bucky's wrist “you gotta tell me what's going on.” tony said. bucky nodded “I will, we will.” and with that bucky walked off after you.

He walked into the room seeing you sitting on the edge of the bed staring down at the floor. “I can't have a child turn out.....be me” you said messing with your hands. “Y/n.... you are not your father if this baby is like you it dosent mean you’ll be like him” bucky said sitting next to you. 

“I don't want my child to have powers i don't want them to be a god damn avenger spending everyday wondering if their going to die or wondering if this is the day they snap.” you said feeling your breathing get shaky and tears build up in your eyes. The last thing you wanted the last thing you needed was for your baby to have to be trained to control such powers. “tony asking?” you ask turning to bucky.

he nods “yea” he whispers. “My father forced me to be this way he saw it as saving me, saving my mother, in the end i came out with powers that i had no control over till i was 17 and didn't even know i had till i was 5 and still didn't have a mother.” you said wiping the tears from your face. 

“but you know your baby will, you now know how to control it and can teach them, it won't be the same you know not to do those things to your child” bucky said. you nodded bucky sighed and walked out the room.

At some point you fell asleep. Waking in the middle of the night you felt bucky holding you close. you turned kissing his cheek before sliding out of his grasp. you walked to the kitchen getting a glass of water before seeing a person sat out on the porch outside. 

You walk outside and sit next to him. “hey” tony said softly “how are you?” he asked. you nodded softly. “you probably have questions” you said looking at the porch floor. “I do but that's your story, your life, you'll tell me when you feel comfortable” tony said looking at you.

you gulped. you knew you owed it to him to tell him, after all you were having his child. “When my mom was pregnant, well it was like a ticking time bomb. Doctors said my life would be the end of hers. My father was not pleased with this development and decided him, as a scientist, could make a serum to stop that. He injected my mother with so many things and in the end i was born and she still died.” you started with sigh still looking at the floor “you don't have to” tony said. you shook your head “I want to” you replied. 

“when i was 5 my powers came to, couldn't control them soon as i touched my dad he'd do as i pleased. i asked for a teddy bear, threw a fit over it grabbed my dad's arm and all the sudden i got it. he was so confused as why he did that but nonetheless he couldn't stop. he started doing test on me, testing my blood, my saliva, my skin. saw the serum in my blood but not just in my blood in me all of me. then his goal was to make me as powerful as possible. He tried to make me be able to self heal. would cut me and shoot me. would torture me for days on end testing serum after serum on me. Was that way till fury took me in. They went to arrest him for abuse and neglect but he was gone lord knows where he is now. anyways it wasn't ever for sure if i was born this way not 100% but now...” you trailed off. tony looked you over seeing you holding in tears. he pulled you into a hug.

“It wasn't your fault.” tony said rubbing your arm. you pulled away shaking your head. tony grabbed your chin making you look at him “It was not your fault” he said more firmly. tears fell down your face. “thank you” you whispered. tony pulled you into another hug. 

he let go and stood up pulling you up. “you are an amazing and strong women you hear me? What he did to you is...I will kill him if i ever see him no correction not kill him but hurt him in ways he never imagined. what he did is not your fault.” he said and your turned away “y/n” he said and you turned back to him “your mothers death is not your fault.” he said. you nodded looking at the floor. “y/n look at me and say none of it is your fault” he said. you looked at him “i cant” you whispered. tony held your face in his hands “say it sweetheart” he said. “I cant” you said crying tears streaming down your face. “shhh its ok” he said hugging you.

You cried into his arms. he rubbed your back “some day you will” he said. you pulled away “i should...” you trailed off. he nodded “come on” he said putting his hand on the small of your back as you two walked in and to the hallway. “thank you” you said. tony gave a small smile “of course” he said and you looked around before walking back to your room.

Tony went to his room and layed in bed playing over the event of the night until he launched up from bed. He had come to one conclusion of himself. “shit” he mumbled. “i'm falling for her” he said falling back and rubbing his face groaning.

Tag list :)

@vicmc624​ @mylifeispainandiloveit​ @frostay​ 

[moonlit-raven-haven]

The Past III

Where the reader and Harry no longer speak.

This is unedited!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: angst, drinking, some language, mentions of blood

A/N: Here’s part three! Sorry it took so long to update! My personal life has been quite hectic and draining and I couldn’t find the energy to write again up until a few days ago. I hope you guys enjoy it! Information regarding tag lists at the end.

Y/N is discharged in the morning just like she had told Harry the previous day. Not having a ride home, she decides to dial Gemma who picks up after only a few rings. 

“Hey Gem, think you could pick me up and bring me some clothes please? Mark is at work right now.” Y/N asks and explains as she flips through the random TV channels on the small flat-screen television in her hospital room. 

“Hey Y/N, I actually can’t right now…” She trails off, almost as if trying to come up with an excuse not to pick her up, but she doesn’t. “I’m sure Harry can pick you up.” She adds in to her trailing sentence. Y/N stays quiet on the other end of the line. She’s going to see Harry tonight anyways, but would she be able to spend a whole day with him without it being painfully awkward?

“It’s okay...I’ll ask Anne.” Y/N replies as she huffs slightly, going through all of the television channels for the second time, but nonetheless she starts the process all over again. 

“Mum is busy with grocery shopping and whatnot.” Gemma says with an urgency to her voice, and Y/N finally concludes that Gemma, or Anne and Gemma want her to spend more time with Harry. Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose slightly before sighing. 

“I’ll ring Harry.” She finally gives up, knowing it was no use trying to tell Gemma that she could see past her lies. Y/N ponders on taking the bus, but she knows she’ll get weird and concerned  looks, having only the clothes from the previous night and dried blood on her hair. 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon!” Gemma exclaims into the phone, the smile evident in her voice as she hangs up, leaving Y/N to hear the ringing of the dead line. She pulls her phone away from her ear and takes a deep breath as she scrolls through her contacts, finally stumbling upon Harry’s name. She hadn’t deleted the number, and she knew it was the same, receiving a text from Gemma with his number attached. Y/N clicks on his contact, an old picture of the two showing up in a small circle next to the call button. The picture is one that Anne had taken at Christmas before they stopped speaking. Y/N was curled up into Harry’s side, the Santa hat she had been wearing slowly beginning to fall off her head as Harry had an arm wrapped around her sleeping form. He was looking down at her, a soft smile on his face as his own Santa hat lit up with small Christmas lights. Y/N smiles at the picture, reminiscing back at how simple things once were.

After a few minutes of hearing the television but listening to her own thoughts, she decides to tap the green button on her screen that has been taunting her for several minutes. Y/N hears the line ring, her heart beating faster with each lengthy tone, and after only the third ring she hears a click on the other end of the phone.

“Hey Y/N.” Harry greets through the phone, his comforting voice making Y/N’s once fast beating heart slow down enough for her to feel calm once again. He knew it was her, he must have saved her number after all these years, but the thought makes her heart sting; why hadn’t he tried to reach her? 

“I...Um...I was wondering if you could pick me up from the hospital?” Y/N questions through the small device in her hand as she fiddles with the rough material of the thin blanket that the hospital provided her with. 

“Yeah sure...I’ll be there in 30.” Harry says, and Y/N can hear the jingling of his keys and the opening and closing of the door. 

“Thank you...and be careful please...the roads are still pretty dangerous to drive on.” She mumbles, shivering slightly at the memory from the previous day.

“O’course...I’m always careful. See you soon.” Y/N hears the muffled sound of the car engine over the phone before hearing a soft click, only hearing the television quietly playing in the background. Over the next 20 minutes Y/N is discharged by the doctor and disconnected from the various monitors. She gathers her belongings, grimacing as she puts on her clothes from the previous day, some of it covered in dry blood still. She grabs her phone off the small hospital table and exits the fluorescent room, thanking the staff on her way out before waiting for Harry in front of the hospital. The floor is wet from the storm the previous day and the current light drizzle of water. She wraps her coat around her tightly, shivering slightly as a gust of wind passes by her.

“I should’ve waited inside.” Y/N thinks to herself as the cold wind bites at her skin, but she’s being courteous for Harry’s sake, or maybe she’s doing it for herself. What she knows is that a mob of fans wouldn’t be pleasant for either of them. So she waits for him outside, hoping that they could drive off as soon as he arrives at the hospital so they could leave.

Y/N is staring up at the gray clouds before she hears a soft calling of her name. She looks up, noticing the window of Harry’s black Range Rover is rolled down. He’s wearing a black hoodie with colorful letters that she can’t make out due to his distance, and some big sunglasses that make her let out a little laugh at their size. She gives him an awkward smile before walking towards the big car and getting in the passenger's seat, immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car and Harry’s scent. Y/N settles into the leather seat as she closes the door and secures the seat belt around her body as Harry begins to drive away from the hospital parking lot. 

“Would you like me to drive you home?” Harry questions, his eyes focused on the slick road in front of him. 

“No no…” Y/N quickly starts off. “We could go back to your place...we were meeting for dinner anyways.” She finishes her statement as Harry just hums in response. It’s silent between the two despite the words that need to be said; the words that would probably fix everything between them. The rain gently hits the windows as the heater hums in sync with the sound of the engine. The road is smooth beneath the tires as Harry drives through a series of small winding streets.

“Can I turn the radio on?” Harry is the first to speak, and now it’s Y/N’s turn to hum in response. His hand travels over to the radio, turning it on before browsing through different radio stations, but he can’t settle on anything and shuts the radio off once again, his hand settling back on the steering wheel. The car ride is filled with an almost unbearable silence, each raindrop sounding heavier than the last against the car, but finally, just as Y/N is thinking that jumping out of the car isn’t a horrible idea, they reach a small and gated house. Harry pulls up next to a small metal box, rolling down his window and quickly punching in a few numbers before rolling it up once again. The raindrops rolling off the leather interior, the sleeve of his hoodie now a darker shade of black.

The metal gates open up and Harry applies light pressure on the gas pedal of his car, causing it to move forward onto the long cement driveway, all the way to the end which connects to a house, his house. Harry presses a small clicker on the roof of his car, opening up the large garage connected to the house as he pulls into it and closes the garage door once again before turning the car off. 

“Let’s get you inside so you could get showered and changed before dinner.” Harry says softly as he gets out of the car, not looking at Y/N once. He knows that it’s still early, early enough to barely eat lunch, but he figures he could try to avoid the dreaded, but much needed conversation for a few more hours. Plus, he doubts that she wants to be in the same clothes from the day of the accident, much less have her hair matted and tangled with dried blood. 

“Oh yeah...thanks Harry.” Y/N says as she climbs out of the car, and takes a look at the garage. It’s like any other person’s garage, but emptier due to his constant moving around and barely being home. She gently closes the black car door and walks around to where Harry is standing, inserting a key to a door in the garage. He twists the key and handle, opening the door before pulling the key out. He walks in, holding the door open for Y/N as he motions for her to walk in. She complies and enters the house that’s lit up by the outdoor light. The place is a lot simpler than she had expected, since his career took off she expected him to change just like every other superstar, being taken by the fame and money, but he was not. He remained Harry Edward Styles, her friend of many years and who she always thought would be her first love. 

His house is decorated in modern and minimalist furniture, but somehow still feels like a home. Y/N can’t tell if it’s Harry’s scent or small random things laying around that make it feel like home. Picture frames of his family and friends, a random jacket here, some shoes over there, and a few random cups scattered throughout the living room and kitchen. While she looks around, she believes that Harry has moved on from their friendship, and maybe even whatever nonexistent relationship there was between them. There wasn’t a picture of her in sight, or any clue of her ever being part of his life, but what was she hoping for? For him to dwell on her for five years? That would be selfish of her, but maybe for now she wanted to be selfish. 

Harry watches Y/N intently as she looks around, noticing slight changes in her expressions, from a half smile to a small frown. Was she regretting her choice of coming with him? Would she turn around right now and ask for him to drive her home? He suddenly thinks that this is a horrible idea, and that maybe things should’ve just been left as is, but he still tries and hopes that she doesn’t want to run away like he has been wanting to do.

“Bathroom is over here.” His voice sounds a bit shaky, almost as if he is nervous. He begins walking through the house, reaching a short hallway with only two doors and some cabinets at the end. He opens the door to their left, revealing a bathroom, and then continues to take a few steps forward, opening the door to their right, revealing his room.

“There’s a bathroom in m’ room if you would like to use that one. You could change in my bedroom afterward if you would like, I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner so you don’t have to worry about me barging in...I mean not that I would barge in...just in case you were worried ‘bout that...not that you sh-” But before Harry can ramble on any further, Y/N cuts him off, a small laugh escaping her lips at his nervous behavior.

“I’ll use your bathroom, you go ahead and make dinner.” She says with a smile adorning her face, oh how much Harry missed that smile. He simply nods and exits the room, opening and closing the cabinets in the hallway before returning with a towel and handing it to Y/N.

“Thanks Harry.” She says softly as she begins walking to the bathroom door in the corner of his room. 

“O’course. I’ll leave some clothes on my bed and then I’ll leave and close the door.” Harry explains to her as he walks over to his dresser and begins to open drawers. Y/N hums in appreciation as she walks through the bathroom door and shuts it behind her. She opens the sliding glass door, letting out a small sigh of relief when she sees the water knobs are the same as the ones in her own flat, thankful she wouldn’t have to ask Harry for help. Y/N turns the water on to her desired temperature and begins to strip off her clothing before getting into the shower, sliding the glass doors shut. As she showers, she can hear the muffled opening and closing of drawers outside in the room before she hears the shutting of what she assumes is the bedroom door. 

Harry exits his bedroom, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen. As he pulls out the necessary ingredients for spaghetti and garlic bread, his mind (once again), begins to occupy itself with unnecessary thoughts, because never in a million years did he think they would be having dinner together after five years of silence. Harry was aware of how she tried to contact him, and he saw all the missed calls and texts from her, but he was too hurt to ever pick up the phone or to even see her. Now he feels guilty, realizing that he probably caused her pain that she still hasn’t healed from. Had she moved on quickly? Did she see other people before meeting Mark? Or was Mark the person that finally allowed her to begin to move on? Harry shakes his head slightly, now beginning to serve the plates of food and pulling out a bottle of wine. Those thoughts shouldn’t make him feel jealousy, after all, he had tried to move on fast, sleeping and dating people over the past five years, and he was almost one-hundred percent sure that she saw every headline regarding his relationships, whether they were rumors or whether they were confirmed. And while Harry can’t be sure, he can only assume that it hurt to see the headlines, because when he heard of Mark’s existence in Y/N’s life, the pain he felt in his chest was too much to ignore. 

Harry is closing the bottle of wine and sitting down when he hears light footsteps in front of him, and as he looks up he sees Y/N, her cheeks are slightly flushed and there is a sheepish smile on her face as she sits down across from him.

“It smells good…” She says softly as she pics up her fork and begins to eat. She’s wearing his hoodie, boxers, sweats, and even his socks, which makes her feel quite flustered, it feels too domestic, like if they are dating, and the thought makes her heart pick up slightly in speed. 

What they both thought would be an awkward dinner was actually pleasant, their conversation flowed naturally, almost as if nothing between them had occurred, and as if they haven't spoken in five years. Once their plates are clean of food and their glasses are empty of wine, they clean up the kitchen and head to the living room, sitting down on opposite ends of Harry’s couch, their glasses of wine full again. Their conversation flows smoothly once again, eventually falling into a silence that was almost unbearable.

“Have you listened to any of my music?” Harry questions, as he sets down his wine glass on the coffee table. The question probably sounds narcissistic, but he needs to know, because there are songs that were written for her, messages that he hopes she received. Y/N sets down her glass of wine and tilts her head back before looking over at Harry.

“I only listened to your first album...I couldn’t really bring myself to listen to your second album.” She explains rather timidly, afraid that he would take offense to the statement, but he nods his head in understanding and gets up from the couch.

“We’ll start from the beginning then, so you could get the full experience.” He says jokingly as he walks over to his vinyls and record player. Harry pulls out his first album and sets it up before sitting back on the couch, this time a little closer to her. They fall into casual conversation again, but Y/N doesn’t really listen to the music, too invested in listening to Harry, that is until he puts a finger to his lips, his infamous rose ring glinting in the sunlight.

“One of my favorite songs that I’ve ever written.” Harry says softly as he looks at Y/N. She chuckles softly as “Woman” begins to play in the background. Y/N smiles at the opening line, Harry has always been one for romance, and she couldn’t help but wonder who he had asked to watch romantic comedies with on Netflix, and then the song begins.

I’m selfish, I know

But I don’t ever want to see you with him

Y/N then wonders who this man was, this man that made him selfish and want to keep someone to himself, and who is the person that he loves so much that he wrote a song about not wanting to see them with anyone else? But then these questions are answered when Harry begins to speak. 

“Y’know...when mum told me ‘bout you and Mark, I wished desperately that it was me you were with instead of him. And I wanted to go find you, and say that I fucked up, that I’m an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of him opening the door, and while I’m selfish for wishing that I was in his place, I also can’t ruin your happiness again…” Harry trails off and sighs, he turns away from Y/N and tilts his head back until it’s resting on the couch and he’s staring up at the ceiling. 

Y/N looks at him blankly as he stares up at the ceiling. She had expected a conversation of apologies, then maybe a few words of “glad we’ve moved on,” and then things to be how they once were, but she wasn’t expecting a love confession. And as much as she wants to say that she understands, and that she forgives him, she can’t do that.

“Harry...you can’t do this to me. You can’t waltz back into my life and expect me to drop everything for you. You’re the one that left, I tried to make things right between us. I have a life of my own now, I’ve moved on from our past…” Y/N’s voice is assertive, refusing to let Harry come back into her life unannounced after everything that had occurred between them. But as assertive as she sounds, and as serious as she is about her words, she knows that her last statement isn’t true, and he knows that it isn’t true as well.

“You’re right, I left, and I know that you called...that you tried to reach me, and I blocked you out...I shouldn’t have. But I was afraid that I had ruined our friendship that night I tried to kiss you...now I reckon that I did more damage when I left unannounced.” Harry finally faces her, and while his words are directed at the girl in front of him, he knows these words are also his thoughts. When she doesn’t respond, he is fearful once again, maybe he should have left things alone. Y/N lets out a shaky breath and closes her eyes, not wanting to look at him in fear of breaking down. 

“Look Harry, it’s in the past, and I want to forgive you, but I can’t...at least not right now. I spent so long getting over you, trying to forget our friendship and that spark that we once had…” She trails off and opens her eyes once again, staring directly at Harry. “But I need time, and I need space…” Her last words are quiet as she gets up from her spot on Harry’s couch and grabs her few belongings. “I would like to go home please.” Is all Y/N can muster past her lips as she walks over to the door, the very little energy she once had now leaves her body. Harry doesn’t protest, knowing that he has caused damage to the woman he loved, once again. 

The drive back to her flat is silent, the hum of his car and the cars around him driving through the rain being the only sounds they can hear. And while the drive to her flat is short, it feels long and tense, making Y/N eager to get to the comfort of her own home and away from the current situation. Finally, the car is parked in front of her flat, and Y/N gives Harry a weak smile once she is out of his car.

“See ya around, thanks for lunch...maybe we can catch dinner another time.” She says as she closes his car door, and Harry’s heart flutters; he hadn’t fucked things up even more than before.

“I would like that.” Harry is quick with his response as he gives her a toothy grin before giving her a slight wave and driving off. Maybe things will be okay in time.

_._._._

A/N: There are two tag lists for Harry content! One for ALL future Harry Styles fics, and one for JUST this fic. Comment “All Harry fics” or “Just this Harry fic” if you would like to be added.

_._._._

All HS fanfic

@rachkon @tpwkhoney @girlboss99 @hilarydenise813 @eternalharry @tpwkxkiwis @wholesomestyles @indieslytherin @harryspirate @harrehiluvyeh

Just this fanfic

@darcysbxtch @makncheese1928 @urdadbtch

Usernames I can’t tag

@mybm1998 @marvelstudies2020 @90smessy @only1doodle

[webslinger-holland]

Baby Holland | Tom Holland

Summary: A compilation of cute little moments during the reader’s unplanned pregnancy with Baby Holland…

Warning: major cuteness and mentions of pregnancy

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Type: Oneshot (I will write more of these if requested)

MASTERLIST

The early morning sun was starting to rise. The vibrant colors of the sunrise were spreading across the long length of the skyline. The yellow sunlight was filtering through the light white clouds, signaling the end of the rainy season. The air was very clear.

The air was so cold yet the trees were on fire. The leaves were showcasing those nice vibrant colors of red, orange, and yellow. The grass was just starting to dry out in the fall season. The water droplets were lingering on the tops of the velvety green leaves of the large forest trees. The puddles were making the ground nice and damp. It was fall.

The pretty songbirds were flying through the blue skyline, heading towards the rough dry ground. The little birds were hopping around, pecking at the ground. Afterwards, the little birds would return back to the quaint little nests in the heights of the tallest trees. A new batch of little baby birds were lingering in the rustic contents of the warm nest, opening their little beaks in a demanding manner. The little squeaks of the baby birds were signaling the beginning of their never ending appetites.

At the given moment, Y/N had been sleeping the whole morning away with her dear sweet husband. She could feel her husband’s forearm wrapped around her waist, gently coaxing her into his grasp. Her back was pressed against his bare chest, so she wasn’t able to see his sleeping figure. She weaved her fingers through his own that lay across her stomach, savoring the sweet moment between the two of them.

However, she could feel this strong wave of nausea taking over her senses. Her stomach was lurching in a rough manner, gurgling with the most unpleasant noise. She tasted something tangy at the back of her throat. She tried to force down the bile, but it wouldn’t do any good. 

Without hesitation, Y/N had forced herself to scramble out of her bed. She had hurried towards the master bathroom, slamming the wood door open in desperation. She didn’t even acknowledge that the noise had awoken her sleeping husband. She dropped down to her knees in front of the toilet bowl, feeling the vomit coming up her throat.

Her body heaved. She couldn’t seem to stop the chunks of food covered in the creamy chyme from coming out of her mouth. Her stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything out of her system. 

She didn’t even notice the gentle fingers pulling her long hair out of her face. Her dear husband was towering over her smaller figure, staring down at her with a look of concern on his face. He rubbed her back in a very soothing manner, whispering some words of encouragement to her. 

The vomit came up looking like clam chowder and smelling like pure acid. The wave of nausea was slowly starting to subside within her body. The pungent stench invaded her nostrils and she heaved even though there was nothing left in her.

Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it. Her mouth was coated in the strong aftertaste of her own vomit. Her soft eyes were starting to water at the awful feeling in her stomach. She whimpered to herself. She just felt absolutely horrible. And she had for quite some time.

“This is the fifth time this week,” Tom claimed. He did not hesitate to lean down to plant a soft kiss on the top of her head. He slipped his hand around her body, rubbing her stomach to soothe her. He looked down at her. “Don’t you think we should take you to see the doctor?” Tom questioned.

“I am sure that it’s nothing to worry about, Tom.” She dismissed him. She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, cleaning the small amount of residue forming at the corner of her mouth. She made a noise of disgust. “We had dinner at that exotic place that week. It just didn’t agree with me,” she claimed.

“I would still like to be sure,” Tom whispered. He turned his head to look down at her, waiting for some kind of response. He could see the faint nodding of her head, which meant that she was compliant with him. He smiled at her weakly. “I am gonna get your coat and shoes,” Tom said.

Slowly, Tom excused himself to that he could gather their things. He walked into the bedroom, heading towards the dresser on the other side of the room. He pulled out a random shirt, throwing it over his head. He also grabbed one of his old sweatshirts. He took the car keys off the top of the dresser. 

Meanwhile, Y/N had closed the lid of the toilet. She flushed the contents of her stomach, so that she wouldn't have to look or smell it every again. She forced herself to stand to her feet, feeling slightly uneasy with each step. She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection in the glass mirror.

She looked absolutely miserable. She had these dark circles underneath her eyes from the distinct lack of sleep. Her long locks of hair were tangled and tousled with knots. She wasn’t wearing any makeup either, which only added to the fact that she looked like a complete mess. She almost couldn’t stand to look at herself.

For some unknown reason, Y/N had thought of something that was given to her a long time ago. She wondered if that thing might be able to help her identify whatever was happening to her body. She also knew exactly where she had kept the little trinket.

Hesitantly, Y/N had dropped back down to her knees in front of the cupboard underneath the sink. She opened the doors of the cabinet. She started searching through the various feminine supplies and rolls of toilet paper, finding the little box at the back of the cupboard. She held a pregnancy test in her hands.

She could clearly remember when the pregnancy test was given to her. It was on the night of her bachelorette party nearly two years ago. It had been a gift from her closest friends. It was meant to be a sort of ‘gag gift.’ 

She didn’t think much of it at that time. She simply threw it under her sink so that—if she ever needed it—she would be able to find it easily in its convenient spot. Now she would finally have need of it after two years.

With shaky hands, Y/N flipped the small box over so that she would be able to read the instructions. She lifted her hand to close the bathroom door, heading back towards the toilet bowl. She was able to finish every single step within a few moments. She set the test on the back of the bowl.

In the meantime, Y/N was trying to brush her teeth in the most thorough manner. She just wanted to get the disgusting taste of bile out of her mouth. When she had finished brushing her teeth, she had decided to splash some water on her face. She cleaned her hands with a small towel, glancing towards the small test through the corner of her eye. It wouldn’t be long now.

The small cheap beeping noise had started coming from the pregnancy test on the back of the toilet bowl. The final result would either show one line for negative or two lines for positive. It wasn’t the most accurate thing sometimes.

She had forced herself to walk towards the small test. She was very hesitant to take the test into her hands, but she was able to do it. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at the results, feeling her breath hitching in the back of her throat. She could see two evident lines on the test. She was pregnant.

Slowly, Y/N had walked out of the bathroom with the small test in her hands. She had watched her husband scurrying around the bedroom in attempts to collect every single little thing that they might need for the drive. She called his name.

“Are you ready to go?” Tom questioned. He had turned to look towards her in his own place, but he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing the fresh tears gathering in her eyes. His heart had practically dropped into his stomach at the mere sight. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom wondered.

“It’s not food poisoning,” Y/N whispered. She had shook her head at her own comment. She had forced herself to swallow the heavy lump lingering at the back of her throat. She could feel the new salty tears streaming down her face.

“It’s not? What is it then?” Tom challenged. He had shifted to take one single step forward in his place, staring at her with a strong hint of curiosity in his brown eyes. He couldn’t imagine what would have been wrong. 

“I’m...I’m pregnant,” Y/N choked on her own choice of words. She was hesitant to show him the small test in her hands. She could feel a sudden buildup of emotions gathering in the back of her mind, which took over her senses with such ease. She didn’t know how her husband was going to react. 

However, Tom was barely able to process his own emotions that were coursing through his train of thought. He felt a strong sense of shock and surprise, but he also felt an insane amount of happiness in the depths of his heart. He couldn’t even find the right words to express his emotions to her. 

“You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered. 

“It makes sense,” Y/N claimed. She was quick to list the various symptoms that she had been experiencing lately that would have correlated with the signs of pregnancy. “I have been so nauseas recently. I have these mood swings all the time. I didn’t even realize it at first, but I was also late on my period.” She confessed.

Her husband was still trying to process the mere thought in his mind. He was almost thinking too hard about it. He had only briefly talked about having kids with her. He told her that he wanted to wait a few years after they had gotten married. He defiantly wasn't expecting this, but he was completely overjoyed at the thought. 

“You are angry with me. You said that you didn’t want to have any kids right away—” she had started to ramble.

��What? No!” Tom exclaimed. He took a few steps in his place. He stood directly in front of her. He brought his hands to the sides of her face, rubbing her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. He could feel the smile growing at the corners of his lips. “I am just surprised. We are having a baby,” Tom sighed.

In response, Y/N found herself smiling at his sweet words. She had released a small breathy laugh before nodding her head in confirmation. She stared up at him with a spark in her eyes, thinking about their bright future together with a little one on the way. She couldn’t wait for it.

His lips brush against her own in the most passionate kiss. His lips was warm and gentle. He slanted her head further, deepening the kiss. His hands were wrapped around her waist and her arms locked around his neck to pull him down slightly. His smile would only grow bigger. 

Within a few moments, the two of them were forced to pull away from each other. He drew her closer to him. He had lifted her off the floor as if she didn’t weight anything at all. His strong forearms were tightly wrapped around her small waist, holding her against him. He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear. 

“That’s...that’s wonderful,” Tom smiled. He was very hesitant to lower her back onto the ground, because he wanted nothing more than to just hold her in his arms forever. He looked down at her like she just had handed him the whole world. “It’s absolutely wonderful. You’re wonderful,” Tom breathed.

“We should schedule an appointment with the doctor,” Y/N suggested. She grabbed onto his hand in her own, lacing their fingers together. She pressed one quick kiss to his lips. She smiled brightly up at him. “We can confirm it there,” Y/N concluded.

It had been nearly an entire week before the young couples scheduled appointment at the doctor’s office. They were currently waiting in the small examination room. They were just waiting for the doctor to come back with the test results.

Currently, Tom was pacing the short stretch of the room. He had the very tip of his thumb in his mouth, biting down on his nails out of habit. He just had this uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re making me nervous,” Y/N confessed. She had a strong look of concern and worry on her face. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers in a nervous manner. She let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” Tom sighed. He didn’t mean to make her nervous, but he was very impatient to find out the test results. He walked across the small room, settling down in the seat next to her. He took her hand in his own.

In that moment, the doctor had opened the door and walked into his office. He was sure to close the door behind him for privacy reasons. He shuffled to stand in front of the young couple, stopping in his place. He was holding onto a clipboard in his hands, which no doubt had the test results on them. He smiled at them.

“I should congratulate you! It looks like your tests came back positive,” the doctor claimed. He had just briefly flipped through the pages on his clipboard. He was able to determine that she was eight weeks into her pregnancy. “You are pregnant,” he confessed.

The couple had turned their heads to look at each other with wide smiles on their faces. The doctor wanted to do an ultrasound just to check the baby’s vitals and to make sure the baby was healthy. 

The doctor started to prepare the ultrasound machine. He flipped a few switches and clicked a few buttons. The expecting future mother was currently laying examiner’s table. She lifted her shirt just high enough to expose her flat stomach. The doctor had smeared this cool gel onto her stomach, shifting to move the cursor through the weird sticky stuff.

Suddenly, a heavy thumping sound was starting to come from the machine. The tiny tympanic heartbeat was the only sign that a new life had begun within her. However, that would soon change when the screen’s monitor showed the a black and white fuzzy picture. There was a very small figure in the center of the screen. It was the baby.

At eight weeks, the baby was about the size of a small berry. He pointed out that the head was here and the body was there. He claimed that baby’s vitals were perfectly normal. He also said that the baby was perfectly healthy and growing naturally. He took a few pictures of the screen to print out for them.

“Would you look at that? That’s our baby,” Tom said with the biggest smile on his face. He was just staring down at the little picture in his hands, claiming that he was going to put it in his wallet so he could keep it close to him. He pecked his wife’s lips in a loving manner. “I love you,” Tom whispered.

When it came time to tell their friends and family about the news of their pregnancy, the young couple decided that they only wanted to tell a few select people for privacy reasons. They wanted to keep the pregnancy out of the public press. 

They were going to tell the family during their weekly family dinner with both sides of the family. The Holland family was hosting this week’s dinner. They had also invited Harrison over for dinner. 

The two of them found themselves heading towards the front door of his childhood home. They had stopped to stand in front of the door. They had rung the doorbell on the side of the door, waiting patiently by themselves. They could hear the faint footsteps coming closer. They had watched the door swing wide open to revel both of their parents on the other side. 

“There they are,” Nikki exclaimed. She was quick to pull both of them into the house. She had closed the door behind them. She had basically flung her arms around her son’s taller frame, pulling him down to her height. She kissed his check affectionately.

“My dear,” Sarah (her mom) smiled. She wrapped her arms around her dear daughter, squeezing her tightly. She almost didn’t want to let her go, but she did eventually. She was already rambling on about how her daughter never came to visit her anymore. 

Her dad had come to stand beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her smaller figure into his side in a loving manner. He pressed a small kiss on the top of her head. He pulled away from her. He had turned his head to look towards his son-in-law, taking one single step forward to address him.

“How are you, son?” He wondered. He didn’t seem to smile at him. He was standing directly in front of him. He was probably trying to seem intimidating to him. He gave him a firm hand shake. 

“I’m good, sir,” Tom answered politely. He had released his father-in-law’s hand, lowering it back down to his side. He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “It’s very nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs Y/L/N,” Tom stated with a small smile on his face.

In the background, the three brothers were trying to hush the dog who just kept barking. The boys would head towards the group to greet their own brother and only sister-in-law. They headed into the living room to keep talking with each other.

During dinner, the whole family was sitting around the table. The two fathers were sitting on either end of the table. On the the far side of the table, Nikki and Sarah were sitting beside each other along with Harry and Harrison. On the opposite side of the table, the young couple was sitting with Sam and Paddy.

The soft sound of silverware clinking and clanging against the plates could be heard very distinctly. The small talk was very brief. The boys were mostly talking about Harry’s new film that they were shooting in the backyard. The young couple had been silently for most of the meal because they didn’t know how to bring up the baby. 

Slowly, Tom had turned his head to look at his wife sitting beside him. He could tell that she wasn't really engaged in the conversation, because her mind was somewhere else. His hand found its way to her thigh. He squeezed her thigh in a reassuring manner, subconsciously bringing her back from her thoughts.

“You have been very quiet this evening,” John (her dad) spoke up. He had turned his head to glance between the two of them, catching the unspoken communication happening during dinner. He raised his eyebrows at them. “What’s on your mind?” He wondered.

“We have something that we would like to share with you,” Y/N said. She grabbed onto her husband’s hand under the table, glancing at him through the corner of her eye. She released a shaky breath. “We...we are going to have a baby,” Y/N confessed.

There was a moment of silence that had honestly felt like an absolute eternity. The whole family was simply trying unpack the load that had just been handed to them. The young couple were studying each of the family members, searching for some kind of reaction from them.

“Y-You’re pregnant?” Her mother was the very first person to speak. She spoke in a tone of disbelief. Her eldest daughter had only nodded her head in response. She smiled at her. 

“I knew it,” Sam said with a triumphant smile on his face. He had turned his head to look across the small stretch of the table, pointing a finger towards his twin brother. “You owe me money,” Sam stated. 

“Oh my god!" Her mother screamed. Her mother had screamed so loudly that it had practically startled every other person sitting at the table. She stood up from the table. She did not hesitate to run towards her, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. She was still sitting in her chair so her head was resting against her mother’s own stomach. Her body visibly relaxed at her reaction, melting into her mother’s embrace.

“You’re pregnant with our first grandbaby,” Nikki exclaimed. She had lifted her hand to cover her mouth in slight disbelief. Her smile was starting to grow at the corners of her lips. She had a few tears in her eyes too.

Meanwhile, her father had also stood to his feet. He had turned his head to look directly at his son-in-law, taking a few steps towards him. In response, Tom had stood up very quickly out of respect. He wondered if his father-in-law was going to punch him for impregnating his daughter. He was instead pulled into a hug.

For a brief moment, Tom was so shocked that he kept his arms at his sides. He had always known that his father-in-law was never a really emotional or sentimental man. When his father-in-law had pulled away from him, he could see the fresh tears in his eyes.

“You are a good man, Tom. You must be sure to take good care of them now,” her father explained. He had forced himself to clear his throat. He had tried to lower his voice to hide the fact that he was crying tears of joy. 

“Yes sir. I will,” Tom said. He had turned his head head to look down at his wife beside him, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness overtake him. He placed a hand on her shoulder. And he smiled down at her. 

For the rest of the night, the whole family was only talking about the new baby. The two mothers were now fawning and fretting over the expecting mother in their midst. The two fathers wanted to share some advice with the young couple. The four boys were bickering about who was going to be the best uncle out of all of them. The boys had also started to place bets down on the gender of the baby. And the young couple were able to tell that the whole family was just as excited for the baby as they were. 

At thirteen weeks, the baby bump was finally starting to show little by little. She found it very difficult to get into her jeans. She jumped up and down in hopes of getting her pants higher onto her waist. She just wasn’t able to secure the bottom. She would eventually just get frustrated enough that she would switch out her jeans for leggings. 

She was (at first) very self-conscious about her baby bump. She would even wonder if the baby bump wasn’t a baby at all. She had been having these insanely weird food cravings recently. She combined some of the weirdest foods together like pickles and ice cream or bacon and peanut butter. 

One night, Tom had turned to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist in their shared bed. He was greatly disappointed to find that his wife was not even in their bed. He quickly climbed out of bed to go find her. 

She was currently sitting on the large plush couch in the living room. She had a heavy blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She had a small tub of ice cream resting on the top of her baby bump. She dug her spoon into the tub of ice cream. Then she stuffed the silver spoon into her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably to herself. 

She said that she didn’t feel beautiful with the baby bump because she was convinced that it wasn’t a baby bump at all. She believed that her baby bump was actually just her gaining weight from the weird food combos. Her husband had to convince her that she was absolutely beautiful to him. He also said that it was just the baby growing inside her. 

Thankfully, her doctor was also able to reassure her that it was a baby bump. She was right at the end of her first trimester, so it was completely normal and natural that her baby bump would start showing now. She felt so relieved to hear that. 

For a while, she felt bad that her dear husband had to put up with her weird food cravings and her unpredictable mood swings. She had known that it was apart of the process, but that didn’t stop her from feeling bad about it. She would always apologize to him afterwards. And she was rewarded with a soft and sweet kiss from him.

Every night, Tom liked to lay down on the top of her legs with his head right in front of the baby bump. He would always start by lifting her shirt up to expose her growing stomach. He rubbed his hands on the sides of her stomach in a soothing and reassuring manner. He would pepper kisses on her bare skin, which tickled her sometimes. He also liked to talk to the baby even if the baby couldn’t hear him yet.

During the seventeenth week of pregnancy, Y/N was able to feel the baby move for the first time. It had practically taken her breath away at first. She pressed her hand down to the side of her stomach, practically searching for the place the baby had moved.

With each day, the baby was starting to become more active in her stomach. The baby’s turns and kicks were getting more frequent and more obvious. She was slowly getting used to the fluttery feeling happening inside of her. 

During one of Tom’s night sessions with the baby bump, the baby had actually responded to him with a sharp and strong kick in her side. It had caused her to grunt and press her hand to the side of her stomach. She had closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Tom asked. He was looking at her with a strong sense of worry and concern in the depths of his eyes. He was quick to grab onto her hand to comfort her. He kissed the back of her hand.

Without hesitation, Y/N had shifted his hand down the side of her stomach. She had pressed his warm palm against the specific spot where she felt the baby kick. She had hoped the baby would kick again.

“Come on, baby. Your daddy wants to feel you kicking,” she said in the sweetest and softest tone of voice. Her heart had almost jumped out of her chest upon feeling another prominent kick coming from the exact same spot on her stomach. She laughed at the feeling.

“Oh my. You can really feel him kicking in there,” Tom said with a big smile on his face. He didn’t even catch the specific pronoun that had come out of his mouth. He had probably just said it subconsciously. He pressed a sweet kiss to the spot. He grew to love his baby more with each passing day.

The baby shower was going to be held at the young couple’s house. The whole family was taking care of the various things that needed to get done before the guests arrived. The three brothers were suppose to be inflating pink and blue balloons, but it just turned into them ‘accidentally’ letting them loose on each other. The mothers were working diligently in the kitchen, preparing various snacks for the guests. It felt like things were really starting to come together.

However, when the soon-to-be mother had finally come down the stairs, she had wanted to help with some of the last minute details. She had tried to bend down to grab one of the streamers, but the whole family had just yelled at her. They said that she needed to sit down and relax because everything was already going to be taken care of and she didn’t need to worry about anything. She just sighed to herself, sitting down on the couch next to the dog.

Once the guests had begun to arrive at the house, the baby shower was able to start. The couple had decided that they weren’t going to find out the baby’s gender until he/she was born. There was a small bowl in the center of the coffee table where the guests could write down their guess on the baby’s gender and place it in the bowl. The three brothers were able to collect the papers, counting out how many people had voted for a girl and how many people had voted for a boy.

It was no surprise that her own mother and mother-in-law had said that they wanted their grandbaby to be a girl. Now Nikki only had four boys of her own. She wanted a granddaughter that she could spoil rotten with gifts and gowns. However, the Holland boys were absolutely convinced that the baby was going to be a boy for “obvious reasons.” The young couple really didn’t care about the gender right now. They just hoped that the baby would be healthy when it came into the world.

The guests’ gifts had consisted of an endless supply of diapers and bottles. They also received various baby creams, lotions, and powders. There was only one present left to open. 

“Who is this one from?” Y/N wondered. She had been given the last present by her personal helper (Paddy). She didn’t even notice the small blush on his cheeks. She had grabbed onto the small tag on the side, reading the name of her little brother-in-law. “Is this from you, Paddy?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Paddy nodded shyly. He was fiddling with his fingers in a nervous manner, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the adults looking directly at him. He pointed to the small bag. “It used to be mine but I am getting too old now. I wanted to give it to your baby,” Paddy claimed

“Oh Paddy,” Y/N said with a small swoon. She found a small brown teddy bear in the bag. The brown bear’s fur did look slightly worn and old. The teddy bear smelled like lavender, which meant that it had been thrown into the wash just recently. Now the teddy bear had soft brown fur, a button nose, and silky paws. It was just perfect. 

“The baby will love it,” Tom said with a bright smile. He had turned his head to look over at his youngest brother, tilting his head to nod at him. He wanted to give his brother at hug at the sweet gesture, but he knew that it would only embarrass him further. 

It was starting to become much later in the day. The guests had started to take their leave until there were no guests in the house at all. The whole family pitched in the clean up the mess that was left. The boys were currently picking up the wrapping paper from the presents in the living room. The girls were working to clean and wash the dishes in the kitchen.

The Holland boys been ordered by their dearest mother to carry the various gifts out to the car. This would quickly turn into a competition to see who could carry the most gifts. Of course, Paddy was trying to balance an entire tower of presents in his hands and Sam tried to stack some on his head. It only resulted in some of the presents being dropped onto the ground. They were thankful that their mother didn’t see that.

At the end of the day, Tom and Y/N would drive back to their own house which was only a few blocks away from them. She wanted to help him carry the gifts into the house, but he insisted that he could carry them by himself. She would direct him to bring the various presents into the only spare bedroom in their small house, which they intended to convert into a nursery. They would have to start working on that sooner or later. 

The whole week had been dedicated to cleaning out the second bedroom in their small house. They were going to start to convert it into a nursery this next week. The young couple had decided to paint the walls with a mild grey tone, because it was a pretty neutral color. It was also very clean and bland. 

Now Tom and Haz had taken a few days to paint the whole nursery. At first, they didn’t buy enough paint for the whole room. They had to go back to the store to buy more. The only problem was that they bought the wrong shade of grey in the nursery. They had only realized this until they had painted half the wall. The two boys would have to go back to the store again.

At the moment, Y/N was twenty-three weeks into her pregnancy. She had found herself spending most of her time off her feet because they were starting to swell. Her neck was constantly stiff and her back was killing her. She wasn’t able to really relax with the whole baby thing. 

Today, Y/N and Tom were planning on going out to the shops to pick out various pieces of furniture for the nursery. He had wanted his brothers (including Haz) to tag along with them so that they could help him lift the heavier furniture. She had already ordered some decorations to put in the nursery, but now they needed some other essential items.

"Why don't Sam and Harry look for some gender neutral onesies, sleep suits, and rompers? I’ll have Tom and Haz start looking for a carseat and a good stroller. And Paddy and I will look for a crib/craddle and a changing table,” Y/N said with a small smile on her face. 

At once, Sam and Harry had hurried to find a cart for themselves. They were immediately headed towards the clothing aisle near the back of the store. In the meantime, Y/N had found herself reaching down to grab onto Paddy’s hand. She started leading him in the right direction, shifting towards the large furniture section of the store. Finally, Tom and Haz had started off on their own journey to find the things.

Currently, Sam and Harry were standing in front of the clothing racks that were specifically for baby boys. They really didn’t know where to start, so they just started grabbing each of the outfits on the racks. The two twins would simply toss each piece of clothing into the cart. 

“What size will he come out as?” Sam wondered. He was quick to find the small tag on the back collar of the clothes that indicated the size of the infant. He had turned his head to look at his brother standing beside him, tilting his head for some kind of explanation. 

“He’ll be a big boy. That’s for sure,” Harry smiled. The two twins had basically cleaned out the small store, buying every single baby boy outfit in biggest size possible. They had a strong feeling that the baby was going to be a boy. They really didn’t have any regrets.

Meanwhile, Tom and Haz were reading the directions on the back of the box for a special stroller. The two of them were able to find different brands of strollers, carriers, and carseats. They had already added a certain carrier and carseat to their cart. 

“It’s like building a rocket,” Tom exclaimed. He had just briefly read some of the directions on the back of the box, finding that he didn’t know most of the names of the parts. He didn’t think it would be an easy task. “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom confessed

“I can help you assemble it,” Haz said. He had shrugged his his shoulders at the notion, stating that it couldn’t be that hard to put it together. He sent him a small smile.

With a simple nod the the head, Tom and Haz had managed to hoist the heavy box into the cart. They were already able to get everything on their list. The two of them started to head down the long length of the aisle, shifting to round the sharp corner. The next aisle was full of books! 

Hesitantly, Tom had found himself turning into the book aisle. He was taking a quick glance at the titles of the books. He had grabbed one book that was called “What To Expect When You Are Expecting.” He silently wondered if he should take some of these books home with him. He placed the book in the cart.

In the other aisle, Y/N and Paddy were carefully studying the different displays of baby furniture. The two of them would take their time and stop to look at one. They were able to point out their favorite features of the furniture piece, but they were also able to find some flaws (wrong color or weird design). 

There was a large white crib with thick bars and a shelf that had drawers built into the side. There was also a white changing table which was an added addition to the set. The furniture was quite expensive.

“Do you like that one?” Tom asked.

In response, Y/N had practically jumped at his words. She had shifted to face him, scolding him for scaring her so badly. She was able to look back towards the matching furniture, mentally imagining what the two pieces would look like in the nursery at home. 

“I love it,” Y/N confessed. She ran her hand across the smooth wood. She didn’t want to look at the price tag again, but she had to face reality. She sighed to herself, shaking her head at the thought of spending so much money. “But the price is too—”

“Don't worry about the price,” Tom cut her off. He had taken one single step forward in his place, shifting his hand to the side of her waist. He pressed one soft kiss against her temple. He smiled at her. “I’ll buy it for you. I’ll buy you anything you want,” Tom said. 

Within a few moments, Tom and Haz were trying to maneuver one of the boxes into the cart. The two of them were shouting directions at each other, telling one to go right or the other to go left. They were finally able to get one of the boxes into the cart, but they still had one more box to lift and carry into the cart.

In that moment, Sam and Harry had been able to rejoin the group. The two of them were told to grab one of the corners so that they could turn the box onto the side. This was defiantly the heavier piece of furniture out of the two. In the end, the four of them were just able to get the fine furniture into the shopping cart. 

In the background, Y/N had found herself wandering down the long length of the aisle. She had stopped to stand in front of a white rocking chair with a teddy bear on the seat. She could see that the chair also came with an ottoman. She had looked over the small stretch of her shoulder, silently pleading for permission from her dear husband. She didn’t need much to persuade him.

It was trial and effort. The four boys had been trying to carry the two big boxes up the stairs and into the nursery. The four of them kept having to readjust their grip or change the general direction. The boys had been shouting commands at each other for the past hour. They were able to get the big boxes into the nursery at last.

The Holland boys had just finished unboxing the heavy furniture. They had thrown the bubble wrap and packing peanuts in the trash. The boys were now left to assemble the whole thing. 

At one point, Sam and Harry had been trying to translate the directions for the crib which they were convinced had been written in another language. That language had turned out to be French, so they flipped the piece of paper over to read it in English. 

Meanwhile, Tom and Haz had been looking at the various labels on each piece. They had tried to organize the parts in an orderly manner, but they quickly found that random parts and pieces would be put together. They just couldn’t make any sense of it. 

“We need to attack Point B to Point E on part six and then turn counter clockwise until Point A is parallel to Point U on part ten,” Harry read aloud. He had lifted his head to peer over the edge of the paper, looking at the various parts in front of him. 

“Cause that makes perfect sense,” Tom sighed. His voice was laced with complete frustration and confusion. He ran his hand through his hair. He frowned down at the pile of parts in front of him.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Y/N suggested. She was currently standing in the doorframe of the nursery, staring into the small nursery from the hallway. She had subconsciously placed her hand on her stomach.

“No. I can do this. I’m the father,” Tom explained. He had waved his hand in dismissal. He had turned his head to look towards the piece of paper, taking two of the parts listed in his hands. He was able to connect them together.

Slowly, the white crib and changing table were starting to take on a familiar form. The directions had actually made some sense. The tools and power tools were being used to secure every single nail/screw into place. The furniture had been assembled by a team of ‘professionals.’

Nearly three hours later, Y/N had walked into the small nursery with a tray of glass of lemonade. She had basically gasped at the beautiful sight in front of her. Her baby’s nursery was perfectly put together. 

The white crib was pressed against the farthest and darkest wall of the small nursery. The white changing table was laying underneath the window. The matching rocking chair was lingering in the corner of the room with the ottoman at its feet. The closet was full of baby (boy) clothes. There were a few miscellaneous stuffed animals scattered across the floor. It looked absolutely perfect to the expecting mother.

Instantly, Y/N had placed the tray of drinks onto the top of the table. She walked straight towards her dear husband who was still kneeling on the ground, securing the last screw into place. She had placed her hand on her stomach in an affectionate manner.

“It’s perfect, Tom. He will love it,” Y/N said with the biggest and brightest smile on her face. She had lifted her hand to touch the white wooden railing of the baby crib, running her hand across the smooth wood. She just couldn’t wait to see her baby in that very crib in a few short weeks.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Tom wondered. He had turned his head to look at his wife standing over him, quirking his eyebrow at her choice of pronoun. He was most amused by her words. He smirked at her.

“I just do,” she boasted. She had shrugged her shoulders at her sides. She had forced herself to keep a frown on her face, but it was hard for her to keep her poker face. She could feel the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What if I want a girl?” Tom challenged. He was now playing along with her little game. He had subconsciously shifted his hands to the sides of her stomach, rubbing her large stomach in a soothing manner. He hummed under his breath.

“No. You’re not getting one,” she claimed. She couldn’t keep her smile hidden anymore. She had placed her hands on the stretch of his shoulders. She was quick to lean down to his level, pressing one soft kiss on his life. 

“Is that so?” Tom smiled. He had shifted his hands through her long locks of hair, shuffling his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close to him. He could feel her move to perch on his knee. He slanted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. 

“Yuck!” Paddy called. “They’re kissing.”

For the past few weeks leading up the the baby’s birth, Tom had spent most of his time worrying about his heavily pregnant wife. He was constantly standing right beside her because he refused to even leave her side. He just wanted to be close by when she needed him.

He would bring her anything that she asked for, whether that be pillows or pickles. He would massage her sore and swollen feet at the end of the day. He would press kisses against her baby bump to show his love and affection.

He had found himself checking the duffle bag that they would bring to the hospital with them (when it was time for the baby to come). He just wanted to make sure that they had everything they needed. He even made a list of things to bring to the hospital.

During one night session with the baby, Tom had started by lifting her shirt up to expose her heavily pregnant stomach. He rubbed his hands on the sides of her stomach in a soothing and reassuring manner. He pressed one soft kiss on the underside of her stomach.

“I really wish you had come for my birthday,” Tom confessed. He had turned his head to press his ear against the top of her stomach, shutting his eyes to savor the sweet moment. He was listening to the baby’s solid heartbeat. “You would have been the best gift to receive,” Tom explained.

“He will come out soon,” Y/N promised. She didn’t want to admit that she had been having some contractions for the past few days, because she knew that it would only worry her husband. She knew that he would drive her straight to the hospital if she even mentioned it. She was just trying to hold off for a little longer.

However, Y/N was unable to hold it off any longer by the next night. She had been tossing and turning during the entire night because she wasn’t able to get in a comfortable position. She could tell that her contractions were becoming a lot stronger and a lot closer together. 

In the early hours of the night, she had hoisted herself into a sitting position in their shared bed. She could feel a strong contraction hitting her like a ton of bricks, causing her to scrunch her eyes and hold her breath in pain. She had dropped her hand onto the side of her stomach, grunting to herself at the painful sensation coursing through her body. She was quick to wake her sleeping husband.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom wondered. He sat up in bed. He had turned his body to face her’s in a split second, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. He could see the visible pain etched onto her face. He took her hand in his own to reassure her. 

“I am having contractions,” Y/N grunted to herself. She felt like she was clawing at her own stomach, feeling the pain ripping through her entire body. She could feel this small amount of relief washing over her, feeling the effects of the sharp and strong contraction start to die down. “I-I think that the baby might be coming,” Y/N said with a small whine.

For a brief second, Tom had been in a full panic mode. He had practically jumped out of their shared bed. He was quick to put some real clothes on. He had started to grab various things around the small stretch of the room, stuffing the car keys into his pocket and grabbing his wife’s loose shoes to wear to the hospital. He had hurried back to her side.

During the next contraction, Tom was sure to set a small timer on his phone. He was careful to watch the timer on his phone, pressing the stop button once she said that the contraction was over. His phone had read fifteen minutes apart. 

Nonetheless, Tom wanted to take his wife directly to the hospital despite her protests of being too early. He helped her out of bed. He had grabbed onto of her favorite sweaters, throwing it over her shoulders. He had started to lead her down the stairs, heading straight towards the front door of the house. He did not forget to grab the duffle bag on the way. 

Slowly, she had climbed into the passenger seat of the car. Her dear husband was careful to stretch the buckle across the big baby bump. She had placed her hand on the side of her stomach. She could see the carseat in the back of the car, which only brought a smile to her face. She was going to have a baby. 

On the way to the hospital, Tom had quickly called their parents to let them know that they were headed to the hospital. He had turned his head to look at his dear wife sitting beside him, trying to see if she was uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. He was quick to grab her hand in his own. He carried her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her hand. 

At the hospital, the young couple were able to be checked into an empty room. Even though her contractions were pretty far apart, she was already an entire week late. The doctors wanted to put her in a room (as soon as possible) so that they could check to see how the baby was doing at the moment. They had also figured that—as soon as she went into labor—the baby would come out in no time. They had to get her in the room.

In the private room, Y/N had taken the time to change into the hospital gown. She had been hooked up to various wires and tubes that would monitor her/her baby’s heart rate and her contractions. She was also given some medication to ease the pain for the moment.

Now the doctor had come to check the monitors and to check her cervix dilation. She hadn’t even started dilating just yet. It was way too early to do anything at this point. She would just have to ride out her contractions and wait for her cervix to start to dilate. 

During the first hours, Y/N was laying down in the hospital bed. She was hoping to get some sleep before she would have to deliver the baby, especially since she didn’t get much sleep. She had plenty of pillows and blankets to keep her comfortable. She had fallen asleep within a few minutes. She was able to sleep for an hour. 

In the background, Tom had been making a few personal phone calls to friends and family. He had turned his head to find her sleeping figure on the hospital bed. He stood to his feet, shuffling towards her. He had lowered himself onto the side of the bed, lifting his hand to brush some hair out of her face. He leaned down to kiss her head lovingly.

Within a few moments, Y/N had woken from her hour long sleep. She had hoisted her body into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She gripped onto the white sheets underneath her, feeling this strong contraction coursing through her. She closed her eyes tight.

Once the pain had gone away, Y/N had very slowly stood to her feet. She had started to walk around the small stretch of the room, remembering some book or article that had said walking induces labor. She had one hand on the side of her stomach and one hand on the curve of her back. She sighed to herself.

Without warning, she could feel the fresh tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She had placed the back of her hand against her mouth to hide the fact that she was getting emotional. Her salty tears were wetting her cheeks by streaming down her face. She sniffled her nose.

Out of instinct, Tom had been quick to rush to her side. He wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, drawing her into his grasp. He tried to tilt his head down to look at her face, but she simply buried her face in his chest to hide from him. He asked her what was wrong. 

“I just want it to be over,” she cried. She turned her head to nuzzle into his neck, trying to be closer to him. She could feel the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child. She sobbed into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his sweatshirt. 

“It will be over soon,” Tom promised. He was holding her in complete silence, slowly rocking her as her tears soaked his chest. He weaved his fingers through her long locks of hair, hushing her with his soft voice. He kissed the top of her head.

When the doctor had come back to the room (nearly three hours later), she was very pleased to find that she had made some progression. She had dilated nearly four centimeters. She said that she would come back to check up on her in a few hours. She left the room once again. 

Now Tom was leaning back against the hospital bed with his heavily pregnant wife laying in his arms. He could feel her back pressing against his chest, practically leaning into his soft touch. He had shifted his hands towards the sides of her stomach, rubbing her stomach in a soothing manner. 

“You can do this, darling. Just breath,” Tom whispered upon feeling her body tense in his grasp. Her contractions were starting to get longer, stronger, and closer together. She was accumulating a thin layer of sweat on her forehead from the pain that she was going through. She released a strangled moan.

At one point, Tom had slipped out of the bed. He was currently sitting on the chair beside her bed. He had gone to get some ice chips for her. He was now feeding them to her upon request. He smiled at her silly behavior.

A few hours later, the doctor had come back into the room. She was sure to check the vitals on the monitor for her and her baby, coming to the conclusion that everything was completely normal. She had also found that she had dilated to seven centimeters, which meant that she would be able to start pushing soon. She had left the room to prepare for the birth. 

The three nurses entered the private room in blue scrubs. The nurses had brought some various pieces of equipment that would help with the birth. The nurses had started to organize some things for when the time came for the baby to be born. 

They had placed these two leg-holders on either side of the bed. The nurse had begun to explain the whole process. She said that they were going to count to ten during the contraction. This was the prime time for her to push. Once they got to ten seconds, she would be able to stop pushing for a short break between contractions. The baby would come out much quicker this way.

She had dilated ten centimeters! She had been in labor for nearly twelve hours before it was finally time to push the baby out. Her legs were placed in the two holders on the side of her bed, putting her in the perfection position. Her husband had been given a cover to wear over his clothes so he wouldn’t contaminate anything. He was now standing right beside her, holding her hand the entire time. 

“Alright. You are going to start pushing now,” the doctor had encouraged her. She lifted her head to look at her patient, nodding her head in approval. She started to count to ten for her.

In that moment, Y/N had forced herself to push as hard as she could with the little energy she had left. She could feel the intense pain streaming through every single cell in her body. She came to the end of ten seconds. She dropped back down into the bed, dreading this whole process. 

It had been nearly two hours since she had started pushing during her contractions. With each contraction came a pain that dominated her entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. She didn’t care if other patients could hear her screaming from other rooms. 

When the pain passed, it was only for a minute or so. She was trying to catch her breath with closed eyes. She was unwilling to re-engage with life outside of her own body. She couldn’t even focus on her husband standing beside her, encouraging her with forehead kisses and sweet words. 

The doctor was telling her that is was time to push again. With a guttural grun,t she did so and was told to stop. It was just enough. She had felt the baby crowning, but she held her breath. Without any further effort, the newborn baby had slipped into the doctor’s hands. The doctor was quick to wrap the baby in a soft blanket. 

The newborn baby had taken a deep breath only to release this loud cry of protest. The baby had been covered in this mixture of a white waxy substance and some small specs of blood. The newborn was quickly cleaned with the soft blanket by the doctor. 

“It’s a boy,” the doctor exclaimed.

The new mother could feel her eyes turn glossy with tears. Through her exhaustion, she can manage a small smile. She did not hesitate to look at the baby that was being brought to lay on her bare skin of her chest. She begins to cry the sweetest tears she has ever known, She felt the painful moments leading up to this slowly melting away. 

At the sight of the baby, Tom had burst into tears of joy and happiness. He didn’t even seem to care that his hand had been practically crushed in hers during the last two hours. He only cared about his beautiful wife and his newborn son at the given moment.

In that moment, Tom was able to cut the umbilical cord with a pair of scissors. He had turned his head to look back towards his loving wife and son. He could feel his heart swelling one hundred times in his chest, growing more at the mere sight of his loved ones. Leaning down, Tom was able to get a better look at the baby. He was quick to cradle the back of the baby boy’s head, pressing a soft kiss to his head. He couldn’t stop smiling. 

The baby was so light. His head was burrowing into his mother’s chest, feeling the warmth of her body so comforting. His tiny toes were peeking out from the blanket. His head was a mass of brown waves that would match his father’s looks. The baby had opened his mouth to cry, but he could only manage a quiet snuffling sound. His throat must have been dry and sore.

“He’s so beautiful,” Y/N smiled. She had shifted to newborn baby closer against her chest, bringing him in closer to her face. She had brushed the back of her face against the baby’s chubby cheek. She kissed his soft head. 

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Tom agreed. He had turned his head to look at his dear wife laying beside him. He pushed her sticky and sweaty hair away from her forehead, kissing her in such a loving manner. “I love you so much. I am so proud of you,” Tom confessed with a bright smile on his face.

With great hesitation, the new mother had handed her baby boy to the nurses so that they could clean him and check on him. The nurses had only brought the newborn baby to the small table on the other side of the room because they had all of the necessary equipment with them. 

During the whole checkup, Tom was carefully watching the three nurses from the sidelines. He was still standing next to his wife’s beside, but he was watching them from the short distance. He could see that they were just weighing and measuring him at the moment.

“Go see him,” she encouraged him. She could tell that he wanted to be there. He wanted to stand beside the three nurses, watching his baby boy in a protective manner. He wanted to spend every single second with that newborn. He just wanted to hold his baby boy and he never wanted to let go.

Hesitantly, Tom had shuffled across the small stretch of the room. He stood beside the nurses. He had lowered his gaze to stare down at the little naked baby on the surface of the table. The soft pink baby was crying so loud and hard. His bottom lip was trembling in its place. His hands were balled into tight fists. And his eyes were still squeezes shut.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” Tom said. 

Upon hearing these words, the baby boy had stopped crying in a split second. He had popped his eyes open. He had turned his head to look directly towards the sound of his own father’s voice, recognizing the tone. His cheeks were stained with these fresh salty tears. His warm brown eyes were just gazing up into his fathers’.

The nurses were quick to swaddle the silent baby, wrapping him in this light blue blanket. They placed this blue hat on his little head to cover his dark locks of hair. The one nurse was very careful to lift the newborn baby into her arms. The nurse had turned her body towards the new father standing beside her, handing the baby boy to him.

“Do you want to hold him?” the nurses wondered. In response, Tom was gently handed his own son. He was holding him very cautiously and carefully, fearing that he might break him because he was just so little. He never tore his eyes away from the baby boy in his arms. He walked back to the beside.

The newborn baby had come into the world after fourteen hard hours of labor. He was five pounds and four ounces. He was also one full week late. He was born at 8:14am on June 3rd. 

The new parents were both currently laying on the hospital bed in the private room. The two of them were staring down at the baby in complete admiration. They had turned their heads to look at each other, leaning forward to share a kiss. They could feel their love for each other growing stronger with each passing minute. They never wanted this happy moment to end. 

“Welcome to the world, Thomas Stanley Holland Jr.”

[masterjedilenawrites]

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 2

Starring: Crosshair, Original Character “Joan Vo,” probably the rest of the Bad Batch at some point

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 2: Doctor’s Orders

She wasn't the first human girl he'd ever seen.

But she sure was the prettiest.

There'd been some contractors and other hired help on the planet, especially in recent years as the demand on the warfront left few bodies to fill the more ancillary tasks. A few had been female. Each time one came in, there was endless chatter among the clones about them. Crosshair had never understood the fascination, nor had his brother Tech. They often wondered if that was just another one of their defects.

Now he got it.

She didn't wear the traditional medical garb, or even the sterile robes the Kaminoans usually gave visitors. Instead, she was in what looked like the clone's standard issue under-armor, "blacks." Slightly different material and stitching, but same concept. It stretched around her figure, highlighting both her obvious female-ness as well as some muscles. Her pinkish-blonde hair was pulled back from her face, which was young, but also weathered. She wasn't another posh politician or edgy mercenary. She was something else entirely.

But her arrival did nothing to help his nerves; in fact, he felt even worse now. This pretty girl would be the one inspecting him. Frowning at all his subpar test results. Reprimanding him for not eating or exercising enough. Judging him.

He watched her with wary eyes as she entered and gave him a small but endearing smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit raspy, but calm. Soft. "I'm Joan."

She looked at him expectantly. He knew he should give his official designation, but he decided to say the name he'd given himself, in a rebellious attempt to show himself as human.

"Crosshair."

She held her smile, unperturbed by his lack of protocol. In fact, she seemed pleased by it.

"Crosshair," Joan repeated, sending a shiver through him. She had been holding a datapad, undoubtedly containing all the sad details of his medical history. He braced himself for the uncomfortable silence that would happen as she flicked through it. But instead she placed it on a table along the back wall and rolled out a chair to face him.

"Well, Crosshair, tell me about yourself."

He blinked a few times. "Um," he nodded to the back table. "My file should have everything about me."

"Everything?" she asked with an amused smirk. "Like your favorite color? What you think about before falling asleep?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, a challenge, but a playful one. He had no clue how to respond.

Before he could come up with something to say, her face relaxed and she pushed her chair back as she stood, returning to the back table. She grabbed a pad of paper and an exam scope. The datapad remained neglected.

"Crosshair..." she said his name again, causing him to fight to control another pleasant fluttering in his chest. "Does that mean you're really into guns?"

She came in front of him again, resting the primitive writing materials on the table beside his leg as she fiddled with the settings on the scope.

"I'm a sharpshooter," he said. That was something he had an answer for.

"Sharpshooter." She quickly scribbled the word down on the paper. "There's something about you. What else?"

He was silent again, back to being utterly confused. Why didn't she just look in his chart? Was this some sort of test?

A pale light came on the scope and she brought it up to his right eye. She didn't let him sit in confusion for long. "Have you thought about getting a tattoo yet? You could do something really cool with a reticule, or a target. Maybe a bullet?"

She moved the scope across his other eye. He tried to stay still for her, even though he really wanted to furrow his eyebrows at the random change in topic.

"I... haven't thought about it," he muttered.

She set the scope down and held up the pen, holding it slightly behind his head.

"Look straight ahead, let me know when you see it," she said, bringing it slowly forward. He grunted as soon as the pen entered his periphery; he couldn't say anything as Joan was already talking again.

"What do you think is the furthest distance you could make a shot from?" The pen was moved to the other side and the exercise repeated, though she didn't seem too interested in it. "Like an accurate one. A bullseye, dead on."

She sounded like the young clones they'd sometimes bring around to the training rooms on field trips. Wide eyes, reverent voices, in awe of the cadets they'd one day become themselves.

Crosshair allowed himself to frown as he answered her, quite frankly, silly question. "It's not just a matter of my ability, but the capacity of the rifle and range of the blast, as well as a whole list of environmental factors."

Joan brought the scope up to one of his ears, now, peering through it. He could feel her breath against his neck as she spoke. "Okay, so you have the best long-distance rifle in the entire galaxy. Perfect wind and lighting conditions. Nothing else in your way. How far?"

He thought about for a few seconds, and then confidently stated, "Thirty-five hundred meters. Easy."

She was looking in his other ear, but he could still see her smiling, impressed, out of the corner of his eye. It made his cheeks feel warm.

"What would be a hard shot to make, then?" she asked, coming back around to face him. She motioned to hold his hands out in front of him. As he thought about the new question, she instructed him to fold his thumbs inward and then curl his other fingers into a fist. Her own hands wrapped gently over his; they were cold but soft, and he almost lost track of his thoughts as he watched her guide his wrists to bend up and down.

"Any pain?" she asked, bringing him back. He shook his head.

"Well..." he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it'd have to be shooting blind. You can still get a lay of the land, use your other senses to aim. But if you can't see what you're shooting at...."

Joan hummed in acknowledgement, moving his palms to face upward, and tapping along his wrists. "Any pain?" And he shook his head again.

"I knew a sniper once," she said in a lower voice. "You know what he said were the hardest shots he ever had to make?"

She moved his hands into another formation, where his knuckles touched each other in the middle of his chest with elbows sticking out. He shook his head, answering both questions, the one she'd just asked, and the one he expected would come with this test.

"He said it's the ones you don't want to make." Her light-heartedness was gone and her face now looked old and tired. "He didn't explain further, but I knew he'd been on the Umbara mission."

Crosshair didn't need her to explain further, either. They'd been told about Umbara.

"I would've known," he couldn't help but say. It had been the first thing he thought of when they were debriefed on the tragic mission. He hadn't told anyone, knowing it wouldn't be taken well, but he still believed it. There was no way he wouldn't have been able to tell it was his brothers at the other end of his gun.

She regarded him with a cocked head, and for a moment, the judgement he'd feared receiving in this room flashed across her features. But then it was gone, and her usual squinted eyes and quirked lips fell back into place.

"And what if you hadn't?"

"I would have. I know I would have."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You have to think about the what-if sometimes. Even if they're far-fetched. Just to know what your response would be. Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst."

He didn't know what to say to that.

But Joan didn't wait for him to respond, either. She picked up the pad of paper, which he just now noticed had a lot more scribbles on it. He hadn't realized she'd been taking notes the whole time.

She handed the pad to him.

"Your homework. Write down some things about yourself for next time, okay?"

She took a step back, as if to make room for him to get up and leave.

He frowned at her. "That's it?"

She smiled at him. "For today. I think you're next on the schedule for Thursday. Same time."

He looked between the paper and her. She laughed a little.

"Try starting with your favorite color," she said with a wink, and then turned to clean up the remaining things.

He slowly got off the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, holding the pad of paper like it was a strange object he'd never seen before. He wasn't really reading any of the things she'd put on there, just staring at it to give himself something to focus on. That visit was, by far, the most bizarre medical check-up of his life.

And it was the first that he didn't want to leave.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

What’s the difference between autism and adhd ? I’m going through you adhd tag and now I’m trying to guess whenever I have adhd or if autism + c-ptsd are wrecking my focus.

Hey anon, I feel you very hard!  With the caveat that I am not a doctor and even self-diagnosis shouldn’t depend on taking the word of a random dude on the internet, here is my broad assessment, as a person with ADHD and C-PTSD but probably not autism:

All three feature a lot of overlap, both between the three and between individual pairs.  For example, PTSD and ADHD can both present with focusing difficulties, memory problems, and hypervigilant behavior.  ADHD and autism are highly comorbid--meaning, they appear together a lot, and one can easily mask the other because diagnostic tests aren’t always designed to separate them. More to the point, they share a lot of traits--hyperfixations and special interests are functionally the same thing, we both tend to stim a lot, we both have that once I start talking I can’t fucking stop thing.  All of them share a big list of symptoms, including rejection sensitivity, difficulty in social situations, difficulty regulating emotions, sleep problems, the works.  This can make it hard to parse the things that are characterized by “shared” symptoms--in this case, difficulty regulating your focus.

The things ADHD has that are not typical of autism or PTSD include:

Hyperactive behavior: this is different from stimming because it’s not attached to an actual sensation.  I just can’t sit the hell down and hold still, at all, ever.  It makes me feel like ants are crawling on my skin, and then it makes me frustrated, and then it makes me panicky, and then it makes me angry, and it pretty much goes downhill from there.  Not everyone with ADHD has this symptom (I recommend looking up the distinction between Hyperactive, Inattentive, and Combined ADHD; I have combined type), but it’s still worth mentioning.

Short attention span: focus is the ability to dedicate your energy to a task; attention is the ability to keep your brain on that task at all.  If I’m having a bad day or I forget my meds, I’ll just wind up staring at a wall or flipping through papers on my desk or something whenever my brain decides it’s done thinking about something.  This is your classic Inattentive ADHD symptom.  It is also why I have a list of every single minute task I need to do every day, because if my attention span ends before I’m expecting it to, I’ll forget everything I’m doing.

Poor sense of danger: not just a lack of impulse control, but your brain genuinely not telling you something is dangerous until you’ve already done it.  One time I submerged my arm almost to the shoulder in 175 F water and the only reason I didn’t have to go to the hospital was because pain reflexes don’t have to report to your brain.  I’m very delicately wired for threat responses, I’ll jump out of my skin if you drop a pencil, but if I had a dollar for every time I had to have my girlfriend bark DON’T TOUCH THAT right before I grabbed a hot pan, I’d be paying our Brooklyn rent.

Time blindness: ADHD means that I live at the mercy of the alarms on my phone.  I have absolutely no sense of how long it’s been since I did anything, nor how long I have until I need to do something else.  Have I been awake for an hour or four?  How long has it been since I ate?  If I have an appointment tomorrow, it basically doesn’t exist, right?  You know how everyone started talking about how it seems like the only time that exists is Right Now since the start of the pandemic?  That’s what ADHD feels like, all the time.

Interest-driven motivation: general executive dysfunction is one thing, but ADHD is characterized by a total lack of motivation for things that aren’t interesting.  I essentially have to have someone physically in the room watching me the entire time if I’m going to clean my room.  This is also because people with ADHD often also have trouble planning, which is such a related problem in my experience that I’m going to put it here.  I can’t parse what parts of “cleaning my room” need to happen in what order, and also, my brain hates it, so if I try to do it alone, I just end up a little puddle of overwhelmed, understimulated despair on the floor.

Understimulation: this is, in my experience, the big one.  ADHD is basically your brain being unable to provide a minimum level of stimulus to keep itself happy.  That means that when people with ADHD get understimulated, we get depressed.  If I sit in a waiting room with nothing to do for an hour before an appointment, I’m going to be on the verge of a meltdown by the time I’m done.  I’ve developed an endless list of “time filling” activities to keep my brain from dropping into the black void of boredom.  I’ve experienced a lot of emotions in my day and Nothing To Do is probably in the top three worst feelings I’ve ever felt.  Personally PTSD tends to manifest as my brain not caring about stimulation anymore, probably because PTSD is plenty of simulation all by itself--if I’m sitting quietly in a dark room, something has gone horribly wrong.

Anyway, that’s what I can think of offhand.  If you’re more of a visual thinker, this Venn diagram is a great TL;DR of this post.  Obviously, plenty of people have atypical presentations of other disorders that might share traits listed here, but these are the things that, in my experience, are more characteristic of ADHD than PTSD or autism.  

As ever, if you’re really struggling and you feel like you need help and you have the option, I recommend a professional opinion over Some Guy Online, but this guy online thinks you’re doing great.  Be gentle with yourself--the slow creep of worldwide trauma created by the pandemic means that a lot of people are struggling to keep their footing, psychologically speaking.  That very frequently manifests as focusing problems, especially for those of us with pre-existing disorders.  Don’t rush to a diagnosis in the middle of a worldwide disaster, but also, take yourself seriously.  The name of the disorder is secondary to the fact that you’re having a hard time, so don’t forget to be kind to yourself and cut yourself some slack.

[strange-lace]

Meltdown (Rewrite)

I suddenly decided to do a rewrite of an old story I did for my Monkie Kid OC here since then, she’s gone through quite a bit of changes and I found myself not happy with that story anymore.

Content warning for body horror (it’s kind of the main premise of this fic with Nagi’s shapeshifting powers going wrong). Enjoy!

Nagi had long since became aware that while her shapeshifting was very versatile, it had made her body unstable as a consequence. There was a limit to how much she could shapeshift in a day, how many transformations her body could handle before things got… messy. Both physically and mentally.

She had made a list of symptoms that she could keep an eye out for a long time ago, when it was still new to her. The list had long since been lost during her countless travels but the words were practically etched into her very brain.

Yet the demon seemed to have forgotten the list in most dire of times.

Her new family seeing her meltdowns for the first time.

It was the aftermath of another battle with the Demon Bull King’s forces where Nagi admits, she had already been pushing herself with multiple changes in her form. Shifting into a Bull Clone, numerous animals, Red Son, even a shadow on the wall on one point, all for the purpose of causing confusion for the enemy and allowing openings for MK and Mei to do their thing: causing complete chaos. She wanted to prove herself useful to the team while still remaining a hidden element, an ace up their sleeve if need be.

She was feeling strained after it all but in a pleasant way, like the ache in your muscles after a workout. Exhausted but nothing that she couldn’t handle after some rest or another shot espresso in her system. And the sight of her friends, her family, all gathered together in celebration made her feel a warmth in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a while. Not since…

It wasn’t important now. What was important was teasing her little brother figure for trying too hard to be cool.

“’It’s a beach man, why don’t you take a swim and cool off!’” Nagi mimicked, seamlessly shifting to the form of MK just for emphasis. “You had been waiting to use that one ever since you met Red Son, haven’t you?”

She let out a giggle in her own voice at the sputtering received in response before it devolved into a slight cough, a sudden tickle in the back of her throat. A tickle which soon developed into a full-on coughing fit that left her struggling to speak and had the others looking at her in concern. Now Nagi was the one with an embarrassed flush to her cheeks, gratefully taking the water bottle offered to her by Sandy.

“Looks like I got a little sand down my throat, no big deal!” She said, doing her best to give a reassuring smile while ignoring the strange feeling of… something in her throat.

Symptom #1: Sudden coughing fit followed by the sensation of something building up in the lungs.

Yet even with the water, the constant need to cough just wouldn’t go away. Pigsy and Tang were starting to go from mildly to extremely concerned, especially when the flush on Nagi’s face ceased to go away as they left the artificial beach and back to the shipyard. Not helping was the fact that Nagi was suddenly feeling very warm, to the point that Tang had yelped in shock when he felt her forehead to test her temperature.

If Nagi had sweat glands, she was sure she’d be sweating bullets despite it being a relatively cool day.

Symptom #2: Extreme fever, to the point of body feeling like it’s on fire.

“Nagi, maybe we should have you see a doctor,” Tang said, genuinely starting to fret at the snake demon’s state. Nagi was quick to shake her head at the idea, knocking off the cloth on her forehead that had been soaked in ice water to help with the fever. Going to a doctor was absolutely out of the question for her because, practically speaking, what could they do from someone like her? Human doctors were used to patients with non-regenerating skin, a sturdy skeleton, and ones with typical organs.

None of those things which Nagi possessed.

A part of her was more afraid of just what would be found if anybody had examined her.

“Don’t be ridiculous Tang, it’s just a slight fever! I’m sure I’ll be fine after some rest,” She wheezed, struggling to breathe as the sensation of something in her throat had become thick, cloying and making it difficult for any air to reach her lungs.

Sparks of panic began to bloom in her heart once things started to get fuzzy and blur, as if she was about to pass out. Yet Nagi remained wakeful and suddenly it hit her.

Symptom #3: Sight begins to blur as eyes become unstable.

Her list, how could have forgotten her list.

Shit, it was a meltdown.

She had to leave immediately.

“I just… realized that I have… something to attend to at home. Excuse me,” Nagi said while clumsily attempting to climb off Sandy’s sofa, managing to weave her way past MK, Mei, Tang, and Pigsy before being stopped by the brick wall that was Sandy. She could only wheeze as the room began to spin around her, droplets of something running down her face.

Oh no. That wasn’t sweat.

“Whatever it is, we can take care of it. You should probably just focus on resting Nagi,” Sandy said, placing a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that everything would be fine.

Only for his hand to slowly sink into her shoulder with a nauseating squish sound. And when he pulled away in shock, some of it stuck to his hand to form a goop bridge between the two which drooped lazily before falling to the ground. Nagi could only numbly watch, her hair beginning to droop from MK’s gravity defying spikes before another coughing fit suddenly hit. These were strong enough to force the demon to her knees, hands over her mouth as her lungs convulsed to get whatever was depriving her of air out.

She felt faint relief as she finally hacked up whatever it was clogging her throat.

Only to pull her hands away to see them now stained with a red goop which seemed to fuse with her rapidly softening hands.

Nagi only faintly heard the screams of horror surround her.

Symptom #4: Body begins to destabilize.

“Ah shit…” She mumbled, faintly noting the strings of goop that were trying to glue her lips together. Stumbling to her feet, guilt gnawed at her chest at the sight of the others no longer screaming but the room was still in absolute chaos. MK and Mei were raiding Sandy’s freezer out of hopes that ice could somehow stop her melting, oh right she was indeed melting, while Pigsy did his best to help Tang from getting sick on the living room floor. Sandy was still staring at the slimy remnants of Nagi’s shoulder on his hand, face frozen in shock.

“Sorry Sa-” Her words were cut off with a choke as the world suddenly shifted by only a couple inches, yet Nagi could feel that something had changed. The sensation of a tail sluggishly moving behind her and her ears being much larger gave her a good idea of who she had suddenly shifted to. Or maybe not, as she looked down to see her newfound fur was both peach and black in the pattern of shifting stripes. Her clothes were an unfamiliar mishmash of orange and dark fabrics that were struggling to not fall apart at the seams.

It only hit Nagi that she had hit the next symptom when her tail began to split into two and only seemed to worsen when she tried to reel it in. Her control was slipping through fingers like sand and she was nothing more than a prisoner to the whims of her unstable biology.

Symptom #5: Uncontrollable shifting, often resulting in traits mixing together to a painful degree.

She could only let out a mournful gurgle, regretful at the mess she was making on Sandy’s floor as fat droplets of her being dripped down like candle wax. Said man’s face suddenly lit up, as if hit with a brilliant idea, and Nagi let out a startled wheeze as she was suddenly picked up and gathered into Sandy’s arms. The man visibly struggled for a moment, genuinely surprised at how much she weighed yet persevering. She did her best to not look at the globs of… herself which fell off in clumps that splattered across the hardwood floors and carpet.

Quickly moving to his bathroom, Sandy carefully placed the demon in his large bathtub while making sure to plug the drain. Last thing he wanted was any piece of Nagi going down his drain. She allowed herself to be positioned in the tub, limbs limp and boneless though not out of choice as pain wracked through her body relentlessly. A whimper broke through her waxy lips as large, bull-like horns ripped through the sides of her head, metal material now circling her eyes.

“What’s happening to you Nagi? Is there anything we can to help?” Sandy asked, hearing the others entire the bathroom behind him as they looked upon the bathtub with concern.

“Meltdown… happens when I… use my powers too much,” Nagi wheezed, speaking a struggle as it become more and more difficult to keep her lips separate, the melted strands of her self getting closer to gluing them together. “Can’t do much… except wait it out. Burning up.” She sagged in relief at finally finishing her words, leaning her head against the rim of the tub. Her entire body was on fire, so much so that it was no wonder that she was practically melting.

The loss of sensation in her legs made her look down, only to see her legs begin to melt together into a mockery of a snake tail. Her fangs elongated, poking past her lips, and scales popping out in random patches from her fur, fire hot itchy pain that she had long since grown numb to.

Nagi let out a mix of a croak and squawk in surprise when MK and Mei barged in to start dumping buckets of ice into the bathtub. She could only jolt and squirm helplessly as the cold assaulted her senses, whimpering as she struggled to get out of the tub and away from the cold. Thankfully, Sandy was quick to pull her out of the bath and away from the ice, cradling her against his chest with no mind to her sticking to his hands.

“Kids, you’re not supposed to stick someone with a fever straight into an ice bath, we can’t risk putting Nagi into shock! We gotta start with lukewarm water and work our way from there, C’mon, get this ice out of the bath so we can use it for later.” MK and Mei were quick to follow Sandy’s lead, guilt heavy on their shoulders that they could have hurt Nagi by accident.

Once the tub was clear, Sandy carefully placed the snake demon back in and turned on the faucet. Nagi relaxed as the lukewarm poured over her melty tail, sagging in relief and letting go of the illusion that she had any bones. The mild temperature was a welcome relief to her fever, a sigh leaving her lips.

“There we go, that’s better!” Sandy chirped, patting Nagi on the head before going still again as more goop stuck to his hand. At this point, the previous slime-like residue had dried and caked on his hands, which he was doing his best to ignore until Nagi wasn’t on the knife’s edge of overheating.

“T-Thaaannk yo-” Nagi choked, feeling something almost pop in her chest and in a snap, Sandy’s tub was on the verge of overflowing. He hurriedly cut off the tap, just as surprised to see that a tub that almost looked comically large for Nagi’s small frame could now barely hold her in, the tip of her tail trailing to the bathroom floor. She could only let out a wheeze that was questioning the universe as to why she must suffer this constant discomfort and torment.

“Well that’s… new. You alright there Nagi?” Mo echoed his concerned sentiments, giving a curious meow by the door of the bathroom.

“Juuuuuuussst fiiiiinnnnne,” she said, her words slurring but not wanting to worry Sandy more. Nagi wiggled about to try and get comfortable while he slowly began to add more water to the bath of colder and colder temperature. As the water’s temperature began to drop, the snake demon’s shivering only got worse but Sandy noticed that the rate of her “melting” was slowing down too. He took that as a good sign if anything.

They continued this for hours with Sandy eventually switching places with Tang and Pigsy once the two noticed he looked exhausted.

“Ti… tiiiiirrrrred,” Nagi hissed quietly, struggling to keep her eyes open now that she didn’t feel on the border of falling apart anymore. Her mind and ability to speak was still as coherent as syrup but all the internal alarms were quiet now and she didn’t feel like she was approaching death’s door. “Wanna sleep…”

“I know you wanna kid, just try and eat some of this broth, okay? You need to eat something after all this,” Pigsy said, his tone soft as he held the bowl of warm broth to her lips. She whined but complied, taking cautious sips to put something in her stomach. Turns out being in agony for hours worked up an appetite as Nagi found herself close to devouring the bowl itself once it hit her how hungry she was now.

Thankfully Pigsy was able to pull away fast enough that he didn’t lose his hands by accident.

“Hey don’t eat Pigsy’s hands, he needs those! Take it slow, last thing we need you upsetting your stomach,” Tang joked, less unnerved at the sight of Nagi’s unhinging her jaw with the Monkey King’s face since everything she could do and would do in future paled in comparison to what he witnessed today. In a way, seeing her so vulnerable made her slightly less terrifying to the man.

Just a bit.

Nagi, nonetheless, did what she was told and slowly finished the broth. With her belly not eating itself in hunger and instead filled with warm broth, she couldn’t help the purr which rumbled in her chest. Eyes sluggishly began to close and this time, she didn’t bother fighting the pull of sleep and instead welcomed it. Sleep was always gentler with her compared to the abrupt darkness that was passing out from the agony of a meltdown.

Tang and Pigsy couldn’t help the sighs of relief once they saw that Nagi was finally asleep.

“So… we gonna talk about what happened or…”

“For now, let’s just help Sandy… clean the place up. We can talk about everything when Nagi wakes up. However long that takes.”

Tang let out another sigh before taking off his glasses to clean them. A nervous tic of his.

He could work with that. They could all work with that.

For now.

[labradoriteprince]

Locket (Crumb)

  Y’all be nice i haven’t written in like 3 years but this is just an intro to the au I am working on

“Okay Mr.Iwa, you're all good to go. Remember, physical therapy starts next Tuesday and you’ll be attending two days a week until your physical therapist decides you’ve come far enough to move down to once a week, then biweekly, and so on.” The doctor went down the checklist. 

Deidara nodded along, staring down at the black and silver replacement for his left arm. He had lost the appendage in an accident at work in which his coworker had dropped a pallet from the sky shelves. Not that it was actually Gaara’s fault. The pallet was old anyways and the bottom planks decided to give. Deidara was lucky enough that only his arm was irreparable. His chest and ribs had recovered with minimal scarring. He had gotten a permanent leave, along with worker’s compensation and a lawsuit on the company for the faulty and dangerous work setting.  

“Thank you” Deidara smiled as he got up. “See you next week, Dr.Senju.” He smiled as he headed out. He could already tell it was going to be weird trying to get used to his new arm.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Deidara stood outside the coffee shop, his nerves a little out of hand… Literally. Today was his first full day with his prosthetic arm. He had been without his left arm for almost a year, but he had to wait until he could actually invest in the device, given how expensive it was. He always came to this shop. And every Monday through Thursday the same red head was always working. A short, stoic man with bored brown eyes and… well, quite frankly, no visible personality. With a heavy sigh, Deidara headed through the door and into the line. They weren’t super busy today, given it was nine am on a Tuesday, but there was a lady ahead of him in line with her son holding tightly to her hand, ogling and drooling over the brownies and muffins.

The kid quickly let go of his mom’s hand, to run up and shove his hands up against the glass. The barista’s gaze moved to the kid, his lip curling the slightest bit at the greasy hand prints being dragged down the glass case. Oh boy, Deidara was definitely going to annoy him today. He was already having a morning. The blonde could tell.

Once the woman ordered and stepped aside, it was Deidara’s turn. He stepped up to the counter, looking over the menu to buy time, like he didn’t always order the same thing. 

“Are you not ordering the usual?” The  barista asked. Deidara looked over at him.

“No- I am, I just wasn’t sure” He assured the man. “Latte with four shots espresso.” He assured him.

“I know what you take.” The redhead turned around to the machines in the back. “I’ll make it. Last time Konan left out the extra shots.” Sasori grabbed the Styrofoam cup. Deidara noticed he had upsized the drink, a sweet gesture though it made him more nervous. 

Once the barista finished the drink, he held it out for Deidara to take. "Its on the house. Congratulations on your arm." 

Deidara smiled, carefully reaching for the cup. All was going well so far.. he just had to grip the cup. 

By now, Sasori could see where this was going, locked in eye contact with Deidara, almost daring him to-

The cup broke when Deidara went to grab it, spewing scalding hot coffee all over the counter and floor. The redhead's eyes narrowed. "Konan, can I get your help cleaning this up. I need to remake a drink. " he sighed, grumbling to himself as he turned around to remake Deidara's latte. 

"Sorry" The blonde apologized, embarrassed by the mess he had made. "I just wanted to practice grabbing things." He explained.

"Well, practice outside of my store." The redhead countered. 

"Sasori-" Konan shot her coworker a glare. So that was his name.

"Well, he made a mess." Sasori muttered. He came back to the counter, handing the blonde a new cup. "Use your right hand this time." 

“Yes sir, sorry again.” Deidara quickly apologized as he headed out of the cafe. Well, that was humiliating. He took a sip of coffee and scrunched up his nose. Oh that petty bitch, this was so much more than 4 espresso shots. He couldn’t be too upset. It was a free coffee, and he did just make a mess. 

He was just desperate to be back to his full potential again. The past year he’s just felt like a burden, not able to move his own furniture when he moved into his new apartment, or having to relearn how to drive, cook, and everything. For a while there, he had to have his old roommate help him put his hair up. Neji always did, though. Even though they both knew he had better things to do. 

Once Deidara got home, he sat his cup on the coffee table, before pulling out his phone. Sasori… hmm. That was an uncommon enough name. He should be able to find him. He logged onto Facebook, typing the redhead’s name into the search bar. It wasn’t long before he found the barista. Sasori Akasuna. The blonde clicked on his profile, scrolling through. He only had a handful of friends, including the coworker from earlier. Though, the only person who seemed to be tagging him in anything was a little old woman who, obviously, was newer to Facebook. Sasori’s entire timeline was full of outdated memes, posts about tagging loved ones, and random ‘I love my grandson’ posts, all of which were from this same woman, Chiyo Akasuna.

Huh, well, it was safe to assume Chiyo was his Grandmother. It was also probably safe to say they were close. Or at least seemed to be. Deidara scrolled all the way back to the top of the page, sending a friend request. He plopped his phone down on the coffee table as well, before looking at his arm. He slowly opened and closed his prosthetic hand, watching the fingers curl up, then open, then repeat. He smiled faintly, before laying back onto the couch. It wasn’t long before he closed his eyes and started to fall asleep. It was a good thing he hadn’t really drank his latte after discovering how bitter it was. Otherwise he’d be too awake to nap.  

Once the blonde did wake up, he picked up his phone to check the time. It was about a quarter to five and he’d been sleeping since almost eleven. “Way to go, Deidara. Way to waste a day” He lectured himself as he got up. He noticed he had a Facebook notification and opened it. It was a message. 

“How in the hell did you find me?

Why did you find me?”

How was Deidara supposed to respond? Lie? Yeah- lying is good. 

“You were in my suggested friends list.”

It was almost an immediate reply.

“Right, with no mutuals and no idea what my name was before now. 

This is almost obsessive. You come in everyday at the same time, 

Constantly you're in my shop to just kill time, and now coincidentally, “

“You’ve found my Facebook.”

Oh man, this was taking a bad turn, and fast. 

“No, look, really. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to see 

Who you were. Not in a creepy way, though. Really.” 

“Right

I’m blocking you.”

Oh shit. Deidara messed up. Now how was he supposed to show his face at the cafe? He groaned and tossed the phone down. 

Well... Fuck.

[my-soul-sings]

just my luck: chapter 1

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader 

Summary (placeholder): Having been cursed to live a life filled with misfortunes, moving to a new city to start anew was, as expected, a difficult process. But things start to change after you encounter a mysterious doctor who seems to know you even though you’ve never met him before. 

Notes:

Will contain spoilers for Taehee’s Story. 

The ‘Reader’ character will be left unnamed, and there are no mentions of ‘y/n’.

Taehee is trained in western medicine here, instead of oriental medicine.

The reader character will not be based on the in-game MC, other than her looks. The differences are because personally I think the in-game MC and Taehee’s personality don’t really match somehow.

This is basically my version of events of how Taehee and MC meet again. The details and events in this are not true to the game, other than Taehee’s backstory. 

For now it’ll be here on tumblr (if and until I move it to AO3) and i’ll be using the tag #justmyluck on the blog for chapter updates. 

***

The rain was loud in your ears. Cars whizzed by you, water splashing beneath the tires and onto the pavement as they went by, and people hurried about with their umbrellas that did little to keep them dry in this torrential weather. 

You stood still in the middle of the hustle and bustle, your luggage by your side and your broken umbrella hanging limp and useless in your hand. The cold rainwater seeped into your clothes, and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine when the strong wind blew against your frame. 

You could feel odd stares being directed your way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone battery had been depleted, which meant you could no longer refer to Poogle Maps to get to where your new apartment was. You had already waited for the past hour trying to hail a cab to no avail, and no one was accepting your request on the Duber app. 

As if moving wasn’t stressful enough already, all of this just had to happen. But you weren’t surprised in the least—it was just another typical day in your unfortunate life. 

For as long as you could remember, you had terrible luck. At first it was trivial things like always getting the shitty prizes in a lucky draw no matter how many times you spun the wheel, and always losing in games of chance against friends. No matter where you went or what you did, it seemed you were doomed to consistently draw the short end of the stick. 

Your luck seemed to only get worse as you grew older. Injuries grew increasingly common, and more severe. You didn’t think there were so many ways a person could get hurt—you had to learn it the hard way, from slipping on a banana peel, getting knocked down by someone who accidentally ran straight into you, getting hit by stray soccer balls or baseballs in school… The events were countless. 

Your classmates used to joke that you had been cursed by a witch when you were younger. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if that was true after all. There was only so much bad luck one person could have in their life, and you seemed to be attracting a never-ending supply of it. 

You’d hoped that maybe things would change after moving to this new neighbourhood. You had even specifically asked for an apartment that had ‘good feng-shui’, hoping that would make some kind of difference.

It didn’t. You hadn’t even arrived in your new home yet, but you could already tell that things weren’t going to change. If you had been cursed by a witch or been fated to suffer neverending misfortune, then moving to a new neighbourhood to start afresh wasn’t going to change anything. 

With a sigh and a shiver, you decided to shake yourself out of your low spirits. No point dwelling on these things, you may as well hurry to your apartment before something worse happened. So you picked up the handle of your luggage and continued trudging on, your feet making squelching sounds with each step from the water that had filled your shoes. You’d get home one way or another, and a little rain wasn’t about to stop you.

Just as you finished that thought, the handle of your luggage broke, and the whole thing tumbled straight into a muddy puddle, sending specks of mud flying and staining your jeans.

It took everything in you to suppress a frustrated scream when you dipped your fingers into the dirty waters to pick up your luggage again. 

***

By the time you arrived at the apartment building, you looked like you had been to hell and back. 

But hey, at least you had come out alive, right?

Your landlord had been surprised to see you drenched from head to toe, and she had kindly offered a fresh towel and some hot tea for you after inviting you into her home. She was a kind elderly lady, and her warm welcome brightened your mood considerably. The tea had felt extra warm as you made small talk with her before taking the key to your apartment. 

But then your mood sank right back down to rock-bottom when you realised that you had to carry your heavy luggage up five whole flights of stairs, because it just so happened that the elevator wasn’t working. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone you could ask for help—certainly not the sweet old landlady. You felt bad to bother any of your neighbours too. 

So an hour and one rough tumble down the stairs later, you miraculously made it all the way up to your door. You would be jumping for joy if your arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off. All you wanted to do was take a hot shower, lie down and get some sleep. Maybe take some painkillers before that too, because you could feel a migraine coming up. 

The apartment smelled a little musty when you entered, but otherwise, everything looked great. It was bare, seeing as there was some delay in the delivery of your furniture, but it was clean. There weren’t any bugs that you could see from a quick survey of the rooms, so that was good enough in your book. 

Looking around your simple studio apartment, you smiled to yourself, glad that you had finally made it here despite the many hiccups along the way. Nothing could dampen your spirits now; moving here marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, and you were ready for your new job that would be starting in two weeks. 

You had a good feeling about all this somehow, despite dripping wet all over your floor and even though your sides hurt from falling down the stairs together with your luggage earlier. 

Cursed or not, you were excited about living here already. 

***

Two days later, your furniture still had not arrived. You had to make do with the sleeping bag you’d packed in your luggage for contingencies such as this. The moving company wasn’t getting back to you even though you had sent them a string of emails asking for updates. You hoped it was just a lack of staff around on the weekends, and that someone would get back to you by Monday.

Apart from that, there weren’t any major problems. Everything in the apartment was working fine. You had made sure to check everything to make sure you wouldn’t suffer some kind of freak accident in your own home—it had happened before, when the ceiling fan in the living room fell just when you left to take a drink. (Looking at it from another angle, you had been incredibly lucky with that close shave.)

The only issue left was the fever that you had woken up to that morning, definitely because you had been caught in the rain. Thankfully, the landlady had informed you that there was a clinic just across the street, so you made plans to go after forcing yourself to eat half of an apple. You didn’t have an appetite but you’d probably faint on the way if you went on an empty stomach, and ending up in the hospital was definitely not on your to-do list here. 

It was warm out when you stepped out of your apartment building. The sun was up, and the temperature was just right. Perfect for a walk. You’d probably enjoy it better if your head wasn’t pounding so much.��

It wasn’t too difficult to find the clinic. Like the landlady said, it was right across the street, a mere five minutes’ walk from your apartment. And then right down the street was a convenience store too. You’d go pick up some snacks and ready-made foods later — it’d be too tiresome to cook while sick.

The clinic wasn’t too full, thankfully. There were maybe about four to five people inside when you arrived, and after registering at the counter you took a seat and checked your phone. You hadn’t had the energy to reply to anything yesterday, so it seemed that your phone had blown up while you were gone.

The messages were mainly from Seohee, your best friend. You saw multiple missed calls and messages from her, and from what you could glean from the message previews, she had been worried because you just went MIA without updating her on your whereabouts. She had been worried from the start when she heard that you were going to live alone in a new city, without anyone accompanying you. 

Grimacing, you swiped right to open the chat, and you typed a quick message to assure her that you were doing fine and adjusting great, casually omitting the part where you had fallen sick and your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. No need to worry her, she had enough things on her plate to manage. 

The other messages were from random group chats that you didn’t have the energy to read at the moment, so you locked your phone and closed your eyes momentarily, leaning back in your seat and resting your head against the wall. The doctors seemed to be taking a while…

About half an hour later, your number was called. Finally. 

You stood up a bit too quickly, and black spots promptly appeared in your vision while your head started to spin. A nod was all you could manage when the receptionist pointed to one of the rooms down the hallway, while you took hesitant steps forward and tried to steady yourself. Eventually the dizziness subsided and your head cleared up a bit when you read the name written on the door plate: Dr. Taehee Kim. 

You repeated the name a few times in your head. It had a nice ring to it. You knocked twice on the wooden door and pushed down on the door handle to enter.

“Good morning.” You heard a deep, male voice, and your first thought was that you liked it. There was a soothing quality to it, and maybe it was an exaggeration but your headache seemed to lessen just from hearing him speak. 

You looked up, wearing a polite smile and returning the morning greeting. Or at least, you were about to, but then your voice caught in your throat and you found yourself staring into the eyes of who was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He had thick, wavy black locks parted to the side, and a pair of deep set, dark grey-ish green eyes—a colour you had never seen before. His complexion was fair and otherwise flawless, and you could tell from his defined jawline and broad shoulders that he worked out regularly too. He looked handsome enough to be a model, and you couldn’t help but stare with widened eyes, while heat began to gather in your face. Whether it was from the fever, or because of him, you couldn’t tell. 

But getting to see such a handsome doctor… today had to be your lucky day. For once. 

The only thing was, it seemed to be the exact opposite for him. Contrary to the tone of his greeting, he now looked like he had just seen a ghost. He sprang to his feet the moment he saw you, and his chair rolled backwards until it hit the wall behind him with a loud thump. His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as he stared at you, searching your face for something… You didn’t know what, exactly. 

The normal thing to do now would be to sit in the empty chair next to his desk and for him to do his job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move a single step. Not when he was looking at you like this, as if he had a million things to say but couldn’t. So you stood there, feet glued to the spot by the door as you stared back, blinking and confused. 

He spoke again after the tense silence stretched on for much longer than you’d have liked. 

“Is… Is it really you? Am I dreaming? Is this… real?”

In the silence of the room, his shaky whisper rang loud and clear in your ears. 

Affection. Sadness. Longing. They were unmistakable in his wavering voice, in his eyes that were starting to glisten with what seemed like tears. 

The only problem was, you didn’t understand why. Much less why it was being directed to you. You were missing something here, or maybe it was him. You didn’t know. Your head hurt, and you just wanted some medicine, and then to go home to sleep this fever off. 

But now your doctor was walking towards you, each footstep ringing in your ears as he drew closer and closer, his perplexed expression remaining the same. And for some reason you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, much less find the strength to push him away when he stood an arm’s length away and gently held you by the shoulders. Even the way he tried to hold you was strange — his hands were shaking and his palms were barely brushing against your shoulders, hesitant and afraid. 

Maybe you had spoken too soon. It probably wasn’t a lucky day at all—when would you learn? Now you were stuck in an office with a weirdo who was getting way too emotional over a simple consultation.

“A-Are you… okay?” The words came out as a timid squeak, and you watched as he blinked, though his eyes didn’t lose the glass-like quality to them. The ceiling light was reflecting off his eyes, and they seemed to be glistening with fresh tears.

“I never thought… I… I can’t believe it’s- it’s- H-How could this happen?” 

You flinched when you felt something brush against your cheek, and it took a few seconds for you to realise that the back of his hand was ghosting over your skin. 

Belatedly, your fight-or-flight response finally kicked in and you pushed his hand away, putting your hands out to make him step back and put some much-needed distance between you. Handsome or not, this guy was getting downright creepy and inappropriate.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, and I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’ll just go to another clinic-” You turned around, ready to hightail it out of his office, when you felt his hand on your wrist, holding you in place. 

“No, wait. Please- Please wait. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

A voice pounded in your head then. An image flashed in your mind, one of a man who didn’t belong in this time period. He was dressed in traditional clothes, and he was holding you with tears streaming down his face. You couldn’t quite make out his face from the blurred picture that came and went like lightning, but the sound of his voice was the same as this doctor’s desperate plea. 

Then dizziness hit you once more, but this time it didn’t subside. The last thing you remembered before your vision turned black was the sound of him calling your name. 

***

A/N: I will be leaving this on tumblr for now, I’ll probably start posting on AO3 when I have more chapters ready to post. :) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter and thank you for reading! :)

[moeyy-writes]

Here and Now - Part 1

Zak Bagans x Reader

Warnings: hints at family issues, mild fluff.

Word Count: 1,822

A/N: Great, what have I gotten myself into? This started as a random idea that was in no way planned. I didn’t even think it would be something worth posting. Now, it’s becoming a series that I’m praying I’ll be able to update regularly. I don’t really know where it’s going yet. I guess we’ll find out together. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!

My Master List || Also on AO3 || Series Master List

“Yes Mom.” You sighed. “No, I won’t be. I’ll be filming that week.” Another sigh. “No, I’m not going to be looking for another job.” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back over the back of your folding chair. “Mom, this is what I want to do—Okay. Love you too.”

You tossed your phone over onto the table in front of you and sighed. You loved your parents, but they didn’t quite understand when you told them you were leaving your cozy job as a nurse to hunt ghosts. Your mom blamed your long-time friend, Jay Wasley, for “luring” you into the field. Every time you talked to her, she begged you to rejoin the medical field, but there was nothing that could convince you to do anything else than be a part of the Ghost Adventures team.

You loved joining the guys on investigations, being the main audio-visual tech for the last year. That allowed Billy and Jay to be more involved in the investigations, which was especially helpful when investigating the larger sites.

Not to mention, you were working with some of the nicest people you had ever met.

You never second guessed the career change. When the guys asked you to be a part of the team, you jumped on it without even giving it another thought. Jay and you had both taken film classes in college, but you changed majors after your family urged you to find something “more career friendly”. He knew you loved working with different types of cameras and had a very keen eye for the slightest hints of evidence on the screen. And the other men on the team couldn’t agree more.

As you let out a long sigh, you heard footsteps to your left. You glanced over to a tall, spiky-haired figure illuminated by the sun behind.

“Hey Zak,” you greeted the leader of your team. He lowered himself down into the chair beside you and smiled. His sunglasses were sliding down his nose, and the wide brim of his hat shielded your eyes slightly from the sun.

“Hey, what was all of that about?” he questioned, nodding towards your phone. You just shrugged and huffed out a frustrated breath.

“It’s just my mom. You know, same shit, different day. She’s constantly questioning my ‘career choice’ and telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing.” You closed your eyes. “She only sees a job for the money.”

Zak nodded. “Yeah, well some people see that. Some people do something because they know the pay check is going to be awesome, and the title is going to make them look good to everyone else.” You laughed.

“Yeah, well, the pay check isn’t too shabby for you, is it?” you both laughed and turned to the building in front of you. It was another location, and the interviews were going to start shortly. You decided to make a small station to set up and charge cameras between interviews, and keep a few pieces of equipment handy for any impromptu investigating.

You glanced away, trying to ignore the intense set of butterflies in your stomach whenever Zak was near you. Sure, you had met him several times before you became part of the team. Hell, he was one of the people who fought for your spot on the show. But, you didn’t know a whole lot about the man at your side. Jay had filled you in on the basics of his life, but that was about it. Sure, he was goofy, nerdy, and a little bit full of himself. But, he was also a kind and friendly guy, something you weren’t really expecting.

He had welcomed you with open arms, as they all did. He made sure that you always felt included when you wanted to be and checked in with you whenever there was an emotionally heavy case. You wouldn’t tell anyone in the media, but he was secretly the caretaker of the group.

So, it was no wonder he was sitting beside you after hearing your phone call. He could sense when something was off about a crew member. It was definitely something unique about Zak Bagans.

“Do you ever second guess being here? Leaving the nursing field?” You shook your head adamantly.

“Not for a second. I became a nurse because my dad is a doctor and pressured me into joining the same field. I liked it, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to help people in another way.” You peered over at Jay, who was fiddling with Aaron’s camera. “Thanks to Jay, I’m here doing just that.”

“Well, we all agreed for you to join. To be honest, it’s been really nice having a different perspective on everything. You always find the best positions for the static-vision and x-cameras, and always find logical reasons for our equipment malfunctions. You have a gift, Y/N.” You could feel your cheeks redden at Zak’s words. You ran your fingers through your hair.

“Thanks, Zak. That means a lot.” Your gaze flicked back to your phone for a moment. “I know my parents love me and want what’s best for me. I just wish that they knew I’m at the age where I can find that out for myself.” Zak nodded, loosely crossing his legs.

“They do love you. There are plenty of people who love you, Y/N. And we’re all here for you.” You leaned back a little, raising a brow.

“Plenty of people? Like who?” Your heart fluttered, secretly wondering if he was implying something more behind his words. Could he be? No, not Zak. That wasn’t like him.

Zak smirked. “Well, I freaking hope you know by now that the crew loves you. Jay’s known you for what, at least a decade? More? Aaron and you have that never-ending prank war thing that I swear is going to be the death of one of you. From the second time you met, I knew you were pretty much platonic soulmates. And watching you and Billy geek out over equipment together makes me smile. Nerds.”

You nodded, practically beaming. Zak always knew what to say and when to say it, at least most of the time.

“And I think you’re a great addition to the team. You’re smart, fun to be around. It’s like you’ve been with us since the beginning.” You didn’t know what else to do but smile. Where the hell was all of this coming from? Sure, Zak was usually sweet and uplifting, but this was a lot coming from him. He was rarely this intense.

“That means a lot, Zak. I’m really glad to be working with everyone. I really do love you all too.” You and Zak stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again.

“You know, you’re really a special person, Y/N. Your parents know that, the team knows that, And I definitely know that.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, then cleared his throat. Was he nervous? Zak Bagans, nervous? Huh.

“Uh, thanks Zak. Really.” He was kind of repeating himself, like he was trying to hint at something he was too afraid to say. You had never heard him talk like this before. He was always super straightforward and blunt, never talking in code or hiding meaning behind his words.

“And, I was wondering if you were, um, interested in hanging out more outside of here? You know, outside of the show?” You furrowed your brow.

“We do hang out. I mean, we all meet for lunch or dinner, and meet at each other’s houses—”

“I know, but I meant you and me. You know, just the two of us.” Your brow shot up as your stomach swirled.

“Um, are you asking me out Mr. Bagans?” No fucking way. He couldn’t be. There’s no way Zak Bagans would be asking you out.

“Yep. Yeah, I am.” Oh, you stood corrected.

“Well, I, uh, yeah. That sounds awesome.” You studied his confident smirk.

Zak nodded to himself. “Awesome,” he repeated. “Let’s focus on this lockdown, then we’ll work out the details. But, I know of a great place I want to bring you to.” He reached over and gently placed his hand on top of yours.

You flipped your hand over and wrapped it around his. “I can’t wait.” And that was the God-honest truth. Your whole life flipped in the best possible way over the last several minutes, and your head was reeling as you tried to accept your new reality.

You were dating, or about to date, Zak Bagans.

“Hey, Zak, we’re almost ready to go!” Jay called over. Zak perked his head up.

“I’ll be right there!” He squeezed your hand, then pulled away. As he stood, he offered his award-winning smile, then made it over to his friends.

You really needed to get your camera ready, but you couldn’t move. Your brain was still struggling to process. Not only was this whole thing something you never dreamed of, it completely came out of left field. Zak was a natural flirt, but you didn’t think he flirted with you more than any other woman he met. He was respectful, avoiding any type of sexual jokes, and making sure he called out the others if anything made you noticeably uncomfortable. That was half the reason your brain was still currently malfunctioning.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, shocking you from your thoughts. You unlocked your phone and opened your messages.

New Message: Jay Wasleyyyy

You studied the message, which was a simple thumbs up emoji. You glanced up at your buddy, who shared your gaze, standing beside a grinning Aaron. Great. Sure, Jay knew about how you felt towards Zak. It was hard to keep it a secret sometimes, especially from someone who had known you as long as Jay did. He obviously knew that Zak was up to something too. Sneaky bastard.

But, now Aaron wasn’t going to leave you alone about it. Joy. All you needed was your goofy friend poking at you as singing ridiculous songs about love and shit.

Another message pinged, forcing you to glanced back down at your phone.

New Message: Zak Attack

It was another wordless message, with a black heart and a winking face emoji. Totally Zak’s dorky yet oddly suave style.

You stared at the message, suddenly giddy with excitement. Now that your brain had come back down to Earth, you were nothing but excited about what was to come. You had no idea what Zak had up his sleeve, or how the two of you were going to do in a romantic relationship, but there was an odd exhilaration in not knowing.

With a long exhale, you silenced your phone and slipped it into your pocket. Then, you lifted your camera from the table in front of you and headed off to join your team.

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated! <3