#looks like a nurse going in to one of the old ladies opposite.... girl i think you need to find yourself a job that doesnt involve driving

[timoswerner]

oh my god yesterday there was a car parked really weirdly opposite us, it was half on the pavement on school zig zag lines when there was no need to be because the rest of the road was clear aside from one other parked car. just looked out the window and the same car was completely fucking up a 3 point turn, holding up loads of traffic, has then smashed in to the railings on the pavement and once actually tuned around has just parked her whole fucking car on the pavement when there’s more than enough room to just park on the road 💀

[be-missed]

Not Strong Enough (Chap 1)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(Pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: Probably mentions of kniv3s and blad3s or any surgical equipment. A few curse words as of now.

A/N: So plan on making a series, I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to say any promises. Hope you enjoy the story!

Masterlist

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Chapter 1

"Mom said I should drop by the hospital and bring the pizza she ordered earlier." Jenna yelled to her family while going down their front door.

"Okay sweetheart, you take care and kiss your mother for me" her dad said while blowing Jenna a kiss.

Starting the car and connecting her bluetooth, now she is ready to drive. As the traffic lights hit red, she remembered that one of her friend recommended her a song to listen to, and she played it as the light turn to green.

Humming to the addicting beat of the song, she now try to find an empty parking lot at the hospital, which is a difficult task to do by the way, a heavy amount of people comes and goes, and some that probably stayed.

Jenna almost passed a white civic that left the spot as she sigh, now this is the hardest part, harder than finding a parking lot, is to park the car itself, she is having a hard time since she is used to her mom beside her and helping her to look at the back. But she needs to be a big girl now and do this.

A minute or so have passed and Jenna congratulated herself by parking her car so good that it follows the line and got the sides an equal space. She picks her phone up and messaged her mom that she's going up to her.

While walking through the lobby of the hospital, she noticed that some people are occupied to not notice her which she is thankful since she doesn't want to have a crowd and some people looked at her and she smiled politely at them. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the close button so fast so that nobody can be with her inside it.

Humming with the elevator music, floors passes by and the doors open with a ding, walking through the same designed hallway makes her remember that scene from her old movie scream. As she reached the reception like part of the floor, she smiled brightly and tried to ask one of the nurse that was standing beside the desk.

"Uhm hey, excuse me.." Jenna started but got cut-off when the nurse got called in the surgery room for extra hands, so what she did next is to ring the table bell to attract some attention that she needs to find her mom.

"Hello, how can I help you?" a woman appeared from the back room with the brightest smile she could ever see.

Stagnant. Freeze. Stop. Pause.

That was what Jenna like for a second, and the person standing opposite to her started to panic "Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?" Y/N stated.

"Oh.. I... I need my mom." Jenna stated while trying to compose herself "Uhm, no, I mean... Yes, yes I need my mom."

The woman in front of her gives her a questionable look... "Miss I don't know who your mom is, may I know her name so I can help you find her?" Y/N stated.

Well, Y/N knows, she definitely knows who is this girl in front of her, holding 3 large pizza boxes, this woman who is slightly smaller than her, has this wonderful freckles that painted her face, who have this deep dimple on her cheek, a wavy black hair and this cute bangs. Oh, definitely she is familiar with the woman in front of her.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm here for Natalie Ortega, she works here." Jenna stated while smiling. Damn it, did she really just froze there and told this beautiful lady that she needs her mom. She noted to herself that she needs to practice on how to stay cool and not to lose her rizz when she faces a beautiful women.

"Nat? Your mom is Natalie" The woman in front of her looks like a light bulb appeared above her head "I think she's inside the surgery helping Dr. Ava, but let me go to the surgery room, I let her know that you are here." Y/N stated while going to the other side of the desk where Jenna is.

"Oh, you don't need to, I can just wait for her." Jenna said while trying to hold the 3 large pizza boxes.

Y/N shakes her head and said "It's okay, I need to actually do something, I've been sitting there for so long my feet might forget how to walk if I didn't stand." with a little laugh at the end. She know think "Nice what a lame joke."

"Well, thank you, these pizza boxes is getting heavier" Jenna said and Y/N helped her to put it on top of the desk.

Fingers brushed, eyes locked, and lips started to curl.

"Well uhm... may I know your name?" Y/N asked the girl in front of her.

Then Jenna thinks "wow this pretty girl is so into me, she wants to know my freaking name." Jenna was so proud of herself she accidentally said "Why? So you could add me to the blank space on your list?" with a slight wiggle of her brows and a little smirk.

Y/N looked at Jenna and was stunned with what the girl said, Y/N thinks "did she just flirt with me? I mean, can it be? Or am I just delusional?" Y/N composes herself and replied "Well, I need to know your name since I need to tell her that her daughter is here, right?"

"Ground, swallow me please oh please" with that reply Jenna just wants to be swallowed by the ground where she stood way down below where her parked car is. SHE THOUGHT WRONG.

Jenna tried to just laugh it off and answered "I'm Jenna, Jenna Ortega" and offers her hand.

"I'm Dr. Y/L/N, I'm a resident surgeon here. So you can seat by the waiting area and I'll go to your mom and tell her that her daughter needs her." Y/N said and winked at Jenna and started to walk to to the surgery room.

Jenna walked to the row of chairs and started to cringe at herself from the inside. She fished out her phone and texted Aliyah:

To Aliyah:

I met this cute doctor and my mind just went blank. WTF!

Fr Aliyah:

Well having no love life really has a side effect, lol.

To Aliyah:

You know what, you are not helping at all, BYE!

Fr Aliyah:

WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?

To Aliyah:

IDK maybe comfort me? I'm your sister after all.

Fr Aliyah:

Just deliver the damn pizza and go home so you can tell me all

To Aliyah:

I will, when mom gets out, bye, love you.

Fr Aliyah:

Love you too, stay safe!

Jenna turns her phone off and was surprised with Y/N standing in front of her.

"What the hell, you could have given me a heart attack." Jenna said while holding her chest.

"That's good, you are in a hospital, in front of you is a doctor, we are surrounded by our lovely nurses, you will live if ever that happened" and Y/N gave her a cheeky smile.

"Geez thanks doc" Jenna answered sarcastically with a smile "Where is my mom then?"

"Well your mom said she can't go out of the surgery room and told me to help you instead to bring the pizza boxes in the break room since you need a keycard to go in there." Y/N replied while showing her I.D.

Jenna nod and said "Lead the way then." and smiled.

While walking, Y/N is now holding the pizza boxes while Jenna strolled along beside her.

"Why did you not get my attention earlier when I was sitting and you were standing in front of me?" Jenna asked.

"You were smiling, and I thought may be you are talking to your boyfriend so I waited until you turn off your phone. I don't want to interrupt you know." Y/N answered.

Even if it is hard for her to think that Jenna have a boyfriend, she doesn't have the say when it comes to it.

"Okay. Then why is this the first time that I see you here? You said you were a resident yet I haven't seen you in my past visits?" Jenna asked, again.

Y/N replied "It's my third month here and maybe you just don't visit during my work time that's why we don't see each other."

Jenna nodded and accepted it as a valid reply.

Y/N opened taps her I.D and opened the door for Jenna to come in first "Here is the break room, and thank you for the pizza, I have been craving these for days, thank God Nat bought it for us."

"So, you and my mom are close huh?" Jenna asked again, which Y/N noticed.

"Well yes, she is approachable, sweet, and kind so, what's not to like about your mom." Y/N said with a smirk.

"Woah there, do you like my mom, just to inform you my dad and her is in a healthy relationship and we are a happy family." Jenna answered a bit annoyed. BECAUSE, why would you like her mom if she is literally in front of you. HELLO?! ARE YOU BLIND!?

"Hey, I didn't tell that I like your mom, I'm sorry if that's how you interpret it, she just makes me feel welcomed, okay? And your mom is pretty, but I like someone, yeah?" Y/N replied but inside her head, its is all "IT IS YOU, YOU DUMBASS, I LIKE YOU NOT YOUR MOM."

"Okay, I'm sorry too, I just get defensive when it comes to my family." Jenna smiled .

"Well if that is all that you need, then we finished our task. I also need to go back there, I have a surgery in 30 minutes." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Sure, I'm sorry for holding you off." Jenna said while they go out of the room.

Walking back, Y/N didn't stopped by the reception and accompanied Jenna to the elevator.

Y/N broke the silence and took Jenna's arm which she was surprised while Y/N scribbled on her skin.

The elevator dinged which indicated that Jenna needs to go.

"See you around Jen!" Y/N stated while she rushed off.

Jenna was so baffled with the action and just waved, as the elevator door close, she lifts her long sleeves and saw a note

"My number, just in case you have more questions."

In Jenna's head "DID SHE JUST GAVE ME HER NUMBER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" and smiled to herself.

She is now determined to go to the hospital more to visit her mom and a side quest to see you.

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Chap 2 A/N: Well I think that was a long one. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the story and hope you wait for the next chapters!

[crimsonizedangel]

Whiskey Neat

Pairing: Jay Halstead x OC

Rating: nsfw

AN: I am open to requests if anyone wants to send me any.

"Hey Elle" I turned around and saw April coming up behind me. "Are you going to join Maggie and I for karaoke tonight at Molly's?" She asked me. I looked between the two nurses before going back to my charting.

"I might." I told them.

"Come on Dr. Rosa." Maggie chimed in. "We will buy you a drink cause I know after the week we've all had here that you probably need one as well."

"Ok I'll join you guys but I'm stopping home first." I knew they were right. We had a long week in the ER and all needed to decompress. When I glanced up I saw the shared look the two nurses shared. "I don't know what you two are thinking but I don't like that look."

April came up next to me and set down her charts before chiming in "we were just thinking that you probably wanted to go home to put some makeup on and perfume in case you saw a certain detective that happens to have a brother that also works here."

I felt the blush creep onto my face. "I didn't realize that you two knew about that."

"What that you blush every time Jay comes in and talk super fast like you're nervous around him." This time it was Maggie talking.

"I'm only a resident and he's my attendings brother I don't think anything can happen there." I replied to them.

"Mhmm. Eleanor we are going to be your wingwomen tonight because that boy likes you too and we are going to help you two kids get together." Maggie informed me.

There was maybe a half hour left of our shifts which we spent most of that time catching up on charting before shift change and giving report to the next shift. We changed out of our hospital issued scrubs and both women followed me back to my house where I found something better to wear. I had on a black hoodie and jeans that I quickly put on that morning when I rolled out of bed to start my shift and April pulled out a black lacey romper for me to put on. Maggie fixed my hair so it was no longer a very messy bun and instead styled my dark curly hair into a half up ponytail. April looked through my makeup bag and had me apply some mascara and red lipstick before spritzing some of my Dior perfume on me.

I rode with April and Maggie drove herself to the bar where karaoke had already started with Mouch singing some old 80s song that I wasn't paying much attention to. I instead followed the girls to the bar and ordered a drink.

"How are you ladies doing tonight?" Jay asked as he approached the bar with Will beside him.

"Good getting a much needed drink after this week. How about you?" I asked him.

"Same. I would offer to buy you a drink but I see you already have one." He noted the whiskey that Stella sat down in front of me.

"Well you can always buy the next one." I joked to him.

"Rosa great job today with that trauma patient." Will piped in.

"Thank you Dr. Halstead." I replied with a smile and noticed the little look that the two brothers shared and that April and Maggie had already left to a table.

"You want to go find a seat so we aren't blocking the bar?" I asked Jay who nodded. I saw Will get up to join us only for Jay to stop him and whisper something to his older brother who just nodded and went in the opposite direction of us. I raised a brow at him and he just smiled and shrugged it off.

I found a table in the corner and sat across from Jay. I'm not sure what all we talked about just that there was lots of laughter. Jay did eventually buy me another drink before rejoining me.

"Elle you look beautiful tonight has anyone told you that yet?" He complimented me and I felt my cheeks get hot.

"No but thank you. You don't look too bad yourself but you always look good especially in your police uniform." I rambled and didn't know how to stop but at least Jay did. He chuckled a bit at my rambling comments before leaning across the small table and kissing me. I was caught by surprise and felt myself raise a hand to his face as I started kissing him back. He pulled away and I just looked him in the eye before I smiled and asked him "what was that for?"

"You seemed nervous and wouldn't shut up so I thought I would help you." He replied "was that ok?"

"Jay that was more than alright. I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time now." I confessed with a grin before taking the last sip of my drink.

I saw Jay look around and notice Will, April, and Maggie just grinning at us from across the bar. "Do you want to get out of here? Maybe somewhere we won't have an audience watching us." He asked me.

"I would love to." I replied and he finished his own drink before grabbing my hand and walking me to his truck. Once he was in the drivers seat I cupped his face in my hands and pulled him in giving him a proper kiss. His own hand went to the back of my neck as his tongue fought mine for dominance. I let him win and felt his other hand move to cup my clothed breast. Eventually we pulled apart and he adjusted his erection before starting his truck.

"Let's get out of here before we're caught having sex in my truck outside the bar."

"Yeah that's probably a good idea." I replied sitting back in my own seat before he drove off to his apartment.

The second he parked his truck we both got out and I followed him to the door and waited for him to unlock it. He led me over to the elevator where as soon as the doors were closed he had me pinned against the wall and his lips were on mine. I broke the kiss to move my lips to his neck before we were interrupted by the elevator doors opening. Jay stepped away and grabbed my waist leading me down the hall to his apartment. When we stopped at the door I looked up at him and saw the reminder of the color lipstick I was wearing that was now all over his neck. I just smiled to myself as he opened the door and let me inside.

I stabilized myself with the wall to get my heels off only for Jay to give me a look.

"Let me help you with that." He told me as he came over and picked me up and set me on his counter before proceeding to take my shoes off. "Wasn't that easier?" He asked.

"Yeah it was. Thanks." I replied feeling the tension growing again as I looked into his green eyes. My hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me before moving a hand up the back of his neck to collide my lips with his. I felt his hands move up my thighs to grab my ass. We continued making out as I started to undo the buttons on his shirt and ran my hands over his abs and chest before pushing his shirt off his shoulders and to the floor. His hands found the two ties holding the top of the romper up and with a gentle pull of a string behind my neck and across my back the top was free and revealed my braless chest. Jay kissed down my neck and took a nipple into his mouth sucking and playing with it.  I let out a small gasp that turned into a moan.

Jay pulled off of me and I wrapped my arms around his neck right before he picked me up and carried me down the hall to his bedroom. In one swift moment he dropped me onto his bed and pulled the rest of the romper off along with my panties. I looked up at him and saw his eyes become heavy and lust filled and as my eyes moved down his bare torso to the jeans he still had on it became very obvious how much he wanted this.

"Elle do you want me to continue? Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked me.

"Jay I wouldn't have gone home with you if I didn't want this. Yes please continue. Please fuck me." I pleaded.

He smiled at me before he grabbed one of my thighs and started kissing up it until he got to my pussy that was already very slick with arousal. When his tongue made contact and he licked a strip up my folds to my clit I let out a gasp and when he inserted two fingers into me as he sucked on my clit it turned into a moan.

"Oh my god Jay." I moaned which spurred him on making him move his fingers faster and his tongue more. One of my hands moved down raking my fingers through his hair and holding his head in place as I started moving my hips against him. His other hand moved across my lower abdomen holding me still as I felt the coil build.

"Jay I'm close." I moaned " I'm going to come." He pulled his mouth off of me and replaced it with his thumb on my clit so he could watch my face as I screamed out squirting all over his fingers. He continued to finger me as I rode out my high.

As soon as it had passed I watched as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth licking them clean. I sat up and started undoing his jeans and pushed them down over his hips along with his boxers and watched as his erection sprang free from its confines hitting his abdomen. I moved myself into a better position so I could lick the precum that was already leaking out from his tip. Jay let out a moan and after teasing him by licking small strips up and down his cock I finally took the plunge and took all of his cock into my mouth.

"Oh god yes." I heard him moan "Elle as much as I'm enjoying this I need you to stop before I come in your mouth." I pulled off of him but not before giving his tip one last lick.

"Get on your hands and knees." He instructed as he went over to a bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer. I watched as he rolled it down his cock before I did as he instructed only for him to grab my hips and pull me closer to the edge of the bed. I didn't have to wait long before I felt him run the tip of his condom covered cock up and down my slick folds before inserting himself slowly into me.

We both let out moans as he got down to the hilt and my ass was against his abdomen. As soon as we were both adjusted I started moving myself on his cock only for him to stop me so he could pound into me making his balls hit against my clit. I moaned at the feeling and felt my arms give out causing me to moan into his mattress.

"Elle you feel amazing." He moaned out.

"Jay your cock is hitting all the right places." I moaned back. I felt his cock twitch inside me. Between that and his balls constantly hitting my clit I felt the coil build again. I couldn't even give a warning this time as I saw stars and screamed into the mattress as I squirted all over his cock and thighs. I felt his movements stutter right before he fell forward and moaned into my shoulder as he came inside me. I felt myself twitching around him milking him dry.

As I regained my composure I felt him kissing my shoulder and neck before he pulled out to dispose of the used condom. When he returned I was still laying there catching my breath.

"Here you can wear this if you want." He told me as I sat up so he could hand me one of his cpd shirts. I took it and slipped it on before crawling under the blankets. "It couldn't have been that good." He laughed as he slipped in next to me wearing some sweatpants.

"Well it was." I nodded before I gave him a kiss "I think you've successfully fucked me into tiredness and sleep."

He laughed as he pulled me down and shut the light off. "We're both off tomorrow so you can sleep as long as you want."

"Good although I'm not opposed to having another round before I have to go back home." I told him as I laid my head down on his chest.

"Round two can be at your place when I drop you off then." He chuckled "goodnight Ellie."

"Goodnight Jay." I replied. I tried not to think about all the comments that were going to come on Monday from Will, April, and Maggie.

[the-healthy-human-mind]

For All It's Worth

CWs: Childbirth, labor, cursing, crying, blood, mentioned canon major character death/mw3.

Thursday, May 30th, 1340 hours

Evelyne never expected herself to enjoy pregnancy, the constant mood swings, weird cravings, having to pee every 10 seconds; but she cherished every second. It’s crazy what motherhood does to someone, when 17 year old Evelyne would’ve laughed her ass off at the state the 27 year old was in. Evelyne hisses at a sharp jab to her ribs, placing her hand over her side. 

“Quit it, Kiwi, absolutely no need for that.” Evelyne glares at her bump, as if the child, Kiwi, the child’s nickname thanks to her current craving, could see her. 

She continues her slow waddle down the hallway, a Manila folder in hand. She stops just before the office in question, leaning onto the door frame and rubbing at the small of her back. This kid was going to be the death of her. 

“Corporal,” Evelyne looks down at the sticky note, “Marlin?”

The boy looks up at her, eyes going from her swollen belly to her breasts. Perv. “You sure you’re supposed to be here, lady?”

She scoffs, tossing the folder on his desk. “No, I snuck in and took the secretary’s place.” 

As she makes her way out of the little shits office, she feels a thin trickle down her leg, followed by a cramp deep within her body. Evelyne inhales sharply, leaning onto the wall, okay, yeah that was not a cramp. Evelyne looks down at her watch, 1350. Shit. 10 minutes since the last “cramp.” She groans through another contraction, turning the corner to the 141 barracks. The twins and Scarlette were with one of Kyle's friends. And speaking of the bastard, Kyle and Price were deployed, Johnny was dead, which left Simon, who was nowhere to be found. Evelyne calls the only number that she keeps on her personal phone. The woman picks up after 2 rings.

“Snake, what’s wrong?”

“Think I’m in labor, headed to Tidworth.”

“What?”

Evelyne hangs up the phone, Kate can figure the rest out. The lights in the ER waiting room are blinding, bringing her back to her many nights spent within the dull walls. Evelyne is met with a woman the definition of the sun, blond hair, pale skin, and rocket red lipstick. The receptionist smiles brightly at her.

“Hello! I’m Esther, how can I help you dear?” 

“Hi. My name's Evelyne Garrick. I’m, uh, 37? Weeks pregnant, I’m not sure if my water broke, but I’m having contractions every,” she looks at her watch, “6 minutes now. There should be a list of contacts on my chart”

“Oh, well let's get you to a room.”

1405 hours

Evelyne drags the IV pole behind her as she paces her private room, a perk of being a SAS wife. She perks up when Esther walks back into the room, however not as bright as before.

“I’m so sorry dear, but I tried all of the numbers, and no one picked up. Is there anyone else I can call for you?”

Evelyne shakes her head, placing a hand on the hospital bed, “no, no. That was it.”

Esther frowns, staring at the girl. Then, she gets an idea, someone who can help. “Wait for one moment, I have an idea!”

It only took the older woman 8 minutes exactly to find the person in question. “Kathy! Kathy I need you! Well- there's a patient that needs you, she’s Garrick’s wife, he's SAS like John.”

Kathleen places the stack of reports she was reading down on the nurses station, turning to Esther. “What room is she in.”

1425 hours

Kathleen hears the woman in question before she makes it halfway down the hall, her cries of pain echoing. When she steps into the room, she finds the said mother hunched over the hospital bed, rocking side to side to alleviate the pain. Kathleen clears her throat, causing the dark-skinned woman's head to snap up. She musters the most polite smile she can before introducing herself. 

"I'm Captain Kathleen Moore, I heard you're Kyle Garrick's wife?"

Evelyne squints her eyes at the unknown woman, before nodding. Kathleen smiles, leaning down on the bed opposite to her.

"I'm John Price's wife, nice to meet you."

Kathleen doesn't exactly know what reaction she was expecting, but Evelyne bursting out in laughter was not one of them. 

"What the fuck did you find attractive in that old bastard? You're hot, but Price? With that stupid fucking boonie hat?"

"Well, the beard does look pretty nice between my legs." 

The younger girl continues to laugh, until another contraction hits her. 

"Do you have a birth plan? Do you want an epidural, anything of that sort?"

"And give birth on my back like some common whore-ow, ow."

"Okay, so that's a no. Is there anyone else we can call for you?" 

Evelyne shakes her head again, "No, Simon has my hospital bag in case shit like this happened, in case my husband is god knows where and I'm about to push out his mini-me." 

She chokes out a sob, "It was supposed to be Johnny- Johnny was supposed to be here if Kyle wasn't but the fucker had to go and die. And it's your bastard husband's fault."

Kathleen pauses, bending down fully to be face to face with Evelyne.

"By any chance, was it you who broke John's nose?"

Evelyne looks at Kathleen like she grew six heads. "Yes? Didn't exactly think it through at the time."

"Well you did me a favor, he stopped snoring."

0025 hours

After following Evelyne through her many positions, a nurse steps in behind Kathleen, who was guiding the girl through breathing exercises, handing the older woman a pair of gloves. 

"Evelyne, I need to check and see how dilated you are, is that alright?"

The girl nods, shifting until she is on her elbows, knees apart. Kathy moves the gown out of the way, straightening when she feels the top of a very hairy head. 

"We're going to get an OB in here, alright? You're 10 centimeters, so let's get you in a comfortable position."

Evelyne's eyes widen, "No! I am not having this baby right now, Kyle isn't here!"

"Well that's not for you to decide, because that child's head is almost past your cervix."

"So help me god, I will shove her back into my vagina if I need to, I am not having another one of his crotch goblins alone!"

“Who said you’re doin’ it alone? That’d be real shitty.”

Evelyne visibly relaxes at the sight of the giant, still dressed in his fatigues and that stupid mask. 

“Took you long enough,”

Simon grunts, placing the bags he came with down on the lone chair in the room. “Still made it before the runt.”

Kathleen stands to the side, watching Simon help Evelyne into a forest green birthing gown. He gives Kathleen a single nod, “I’ve got her,” and watches as the nurse walks out of the room.

“Where Garrick? They should have landed by now,”

Simon hesitates, and it makes Evelyne want to punch him in the balls. 

“They got sent back, mission wasn’t done.”

He has a split second to grab her by the arm before she hits the ground, releasing an ear ringing wail. 

0300 hours

“She has to be on her back, it’s easier for us-”

Three heads turn to the squeaky voice of an intern, who visibly panics at the glares he receives.

“For you! It’s easier for you! What about the one pushing this watermelon out?!”

The man opens his mouth, to which Evelyne groans in annoyance. 

“Get him outta here!”

Simon’s glare from beneath his skull balaclava is more than enough to have the intern scurrying out the door.

Friday, May 31st, 0600 hours

Evelyne regrets not getting that epidural, even if it meant she had to give birth on her back. If her death grip on Simon’s hand hurt him, she’d have no clue with how silent he was. The pain was mind numbing, shooting through her pelvis and spine. Everything else felt like a blur. She didn’t register the ache in her left knee from being on it, barely registered someone, Kathy, shoving the top of her gown down to place a screeching newborn on her chest. She marvels at the tiny infant screaming on her chest, eyes shut and fists clenched by her ears. 

Motherhood was a strange phenomenon, it changed who you were as a person. But looking down at her wailing daughter, Evelyne couldn’t imagine treating this infant like her mother had, handing the twins off to a stranger of a nurse and lighting a cigarette. She lets out a garbled laugh, partly from the shock, but also from the fact that the newborn had a full head of hair. 

Evelyne moves with the guidance of Kathleen and the doctors, and when the baby girl's eyes open, she is met with big, hazel eyes. Simon respectfully turns his head when the nurses direct Evelyne to initiate breastfeeding, the newborn latching with ease. 

“Hei, Leona.”

0900 hours

Motherhood was a damning thing, you have sex with a man, get knocked up, incubate a human for 9 months, and then your body ejects it in the most painful way. But it was a wonderful thing as well. Leona naps against her mothers chest, mouth opening and closing as if she was still nursing. With her mothers curls and her fathers face, Leona was perfect. 

Simon was out collecting the girls, Evelyne was not going to think about that man’s driving skills with her sisters and child in the car. Kathleen had gone home shortly after the birth, but not after a quick bicker between the two. 

“Simon’s here, he’s a bastard but he is a decent man.”

“Really, Ev?”

“I’ll be back on my next shift, promise.”

“After you go home and see your own children.”

“Yes, after.”

Evelyne looks to the door as it opens, revealing her sisters, both trying to get through the frame at the same time. 

“Is that her? She’s so tiny!”

“Shush! They’re probably sleeping, Nel!”

“Both of ya hush and get in there.”

Simon nudges the twins into the recovery room, a zonked out Scarlette drooling on his shoulder. As Evelyne carefully hands Leona over to Claire, Nellian moves to stand over her twin's shoulder. The two whisper back and forth while gazing at the infant. Evelyne holds her arms out for her eldest, offering to take her off of Simon’s hands. 

“I got her, no sense in botherin’ her.”

“Whiskey’s made you soft.”

Simon scoffs, muttering under his breath. “Fucking Norwegians.”

[bilightningwhumper]

Mangst 2024- Day 3

<<Previous . Masterlist . Next>>

Picture Perfect (Rapunzel + Hansel and Gretel) Masterlist

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Summary:

Leslie learns more about her family Potential spoiler excerpt from "Picture Perfect"

Notes:

Colds are terrible and I've already got enough brain fog without them. Next chapters are going to be slow going while I get over it. I've managed to make notes for them, but making a narrative is a lot of effort at the moment Warnings for this one: panic attack, semi-mental breakdown, mentions of brainwashing by and trauma bonding for abuser Characters: Leslie- Rapunzel "Mama" (mentioned)- Mother Gothel/Sorceress/Witch

Leslie's POV

At least outside wasn’t as stuffy as her room. Leslie didn’t understand why she couldn’t leave like the others could. Well, Isaac had made good points, like the Institution taking her back. But Mama wouldn’t make her go back if she just knew. If Leslie could just make a call and explain, Mama would take her home. Then everything could go back to normal.

“Leslie?” The nice nurse, Crystal, was behind her with a strange woman. “There’s someone who’d like to talk to you.”

The woman approached as Crystal stepped aside. She gave Leslie a strange sort of smile as she put a hand on the chair opposite her.

“May I sit with you?” she asked.

Leslie tilted her head. The people here were odd, always asking for her permission to do things. But it could be a trick, so she nodded.

Pulling out the chair, the woman sat down, putting a thick file on the table between them. “My name is Rosemary Carroll. I’m an agent of the Felony Tracking Agency, ‘FTA’ for short. Do you know what that is?”

Leslie shook her head.

“We’re partnered with the Huntsman Legal group to find out more about you. Well, people like you. Trying to reconnect you with your family or soulmates. Other people who won’t take you back to the Institution.”

She perked up. “Did you call Mama? Is she here for me?”

Ms Carroll got a funny look on her face. “We didn’t find her, no. We found out something else, though.” Opening the folder, she took out a set of pictures and placed them in front of Leslie. “Can you look at these for me?”

She took the pictures, spreading them out and ordering them neatly in front of her. They all looked like pictures of the same family. A mother, a father, and a little girl. The little girl was blonde, different ages in the pictures. Ms Carroll didn’t tell her what to do with them really other than look, so she arranged them in how order of how old she thought the little girl was. Leslie could feel Ms Carroll watching her and her hands started shaking. Was she doing something wrong?

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Leslie looked up, confused. “Remember what?”

“This,” Ms Carroll held up a picture of the little girl on a bike, her father behind her, and her mother cheering behind them. “This is your family.”

That didn’t make any sense. “But that’s not Mama.” She pointed at the woman in the pictures. “Mama has black hair and she’s tall and skinny. This lady is blonde and short and pudgy.”

Ms Carroll sighed softly, pulling out more papers. “Do you remember how when you first arrived, they ran tests on you? One of them being a DNA test?”

She nodded. “They said it was to find Mama. Or my daddy. But Mama said he was a bad man who didn’t want me.”

“Well, we found this couple. These were the results of both your test and theirs, along with their missing daughter’s.” Ms Carroll passed her more papers that had charts and names on them.

She recognized her name and could read three others, all with the same last name: Anita, Colin, and Riley Shepard. The charts and numbers she didn’t understand. Leslie looked up at Ms Carroll.

“What is this?” she asked, laying down the papers on top of the pictures.

“Well, their parental matches are fifty percent matches to you.” Ms Carroll pointed at Anita and Colin’s results, both with a 50% next to them. “Typically, a one-hundred percent match for children to each other would be in the case of identical twins. But the Shepards only had one child, their daughter, who went missing when she was seven.” She pointed at Riley’s results, that had a 100% next to it.

Leslie stood up, ringing her hands. “Why does it say this? It’s wrong. Mama’s my family. She took me from the hospital herself. She always told that.”

“She wasn’t lying to you, Leslie.” Ms Carroll pulled out some more papers. “The case files from Riley’s disappearance talk about how she was sick, always in and out of the hospital. I talked with the Shepards and they confirmed this. Riley presented very early at age five. So her heats were very intense for her and hospital intervention was the only way to help. Right as the doctors found the right medication to balance her heats for her age, Riley disappeared.”

Foggy memories pulled at Leslie. Waking up in cold sweats. A cool hand on her forehead. Someone singing something to her. Mama never sang to her.

‘I’m your only family, baby bird. The only one who wanted you. Never forget that.’

“No.” Leslie shook her head., pacing back and forth “That’s not me. I’m sorry for that family, but it’s not me. Mama loves me. She’d never do something like that.”

“Do you remember any baby pictures? Any evidence she’d had you when you were a young child?”

“Mama didn’t keep any. Babies aren’t pretty. She only kept pictures that were pretty.” Leslie couldn’t breathe. Maybe she’d made her corset too tight. “Mama doesn’t like it when I’m not pretty.”

Ms Carroll pulled out something else from her pocket. A bulky looking thing that had a camera lens on it. She flipped out something on the side. “Listen to this for me?” Then she pushed a button.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly…”

Leslie froze. She knew that. She knew…

‘I’m your only family, baby bird.’

“Lavender’s green. When I am king, dilly, dilly…”

“Stop it.”

‘The only one who wanted you.’

“You shall be queen. Who told you so, dilly, dilly…”

‘Never forget that.’

“I said stop it!”

Leslie knocked the thing out of Ms Carroll’s hands, shattering it on the ground. The music stopped and someone was crying. No, she was crying.

“Leslie…”

She ran. Away from the woman. Away from the pictures. She ignored anyone calling after her. Dodged any attempts to stop her.

Once she got back to her room, she locked the door, breathing hard. That stupid singing was still in her head. Why wouldn’t it go away?

Mama was her family. Mama loved her.

Mama…

Mama lied.

Breathing hard, she backed away from the door.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Makeup streaming down her face. Hair a mess. Dress rumpled and wrinkled.

‘Oh, baby bird, you look terrible. Let’s fix you up and make you pretty again.’

She sat in front of the vanity, picked up her make-up brushes, looked back up at the mirror.

‘You look beautiful like this. You don’t need any of it to be pretty.’

No, that was wrong. Mama made her pretty. Mama knew what made her look best. Mama made her the best.

‘You’re beautiful, Leslie. And funny. Smart. Don’t let her keep telling you otherwise.’

She shook her head, dropping the brushes, tugging at her hair. No, not that again. She’d been doing so well. Mama sent her to the Institution to forget about that. Mama loved her. The only one who truly did.

‘You’re mine, not his. Maybe I should help you remember that.’

There were scissors to the side of her. She remembered asking for some so she could make art again. Picking them up, she looked at herself in the mirror again.

‘You don’t need any of it to be pretty.’

It felt like someone else was controlling her hands. Like she was a puppet on strings. She watched as she pulled out hairpins, took up a chunk of hair, then-

Snip

Hair fell to the floor, some of it on her shoulder.

Snip

More hair gone. Her chest felt lighter, even as tears clouded her vision and her breath shuttered.

She kept cutting until her hair was just above her shoulders, varying lengths in most places. It looked awful, choppy, messy. Not at all what Mama would like.

Laughing to herself through tears, she got her make-up wipes and scrubbed her face. She probably used too many, being wasteful with what Crystal had given her. A glance in the mirror told her she was successful, though, getting all of the make-up off, face red and raw from crying.

Next was the clothing. Ripping, tearing, destroying the things Mama wanted her to wear. No more dresses. No more corsets. No more Mama’s pretty bird.

She was no one.

Nothing.

No one’s.

She pulled out some of the clothing from her nest. A shirt from Isaac. Pants she got from the clothing the center had supplied.

Burrowing into her nest, she pulled a blanket over her head. She didn’t know who she was anymore. But she had a pack. She belonged with them.

That much she knew.

That’s all she needed.

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Okay so whenever a guy asks what's up with women going to the bathroom in groups, they tend to look at me funny when I say it's a culture thing.

"Going to the bathroom isn't culture"

Listen when ladies, girls, women and various other types of people on the female side of the gender spectrum are going to the restroom, especially in a group, they tend to be doing a bit more than actually using the restroom for it's intended purpose of executing certain bodily functions.

And it's definitely a culture because it's something we 100% grow up with as part of a social activity with other girls.

Let's take my earliest memory of such a phenomenon happening among my female peers.

We were all 6-7 years old, on account of being in the first grade.

Now at the school I went too the first graders had really long scheduled bathroom breaks, because there were only two restroom areas in the school, the one in the nurse's office, and the normal student restrooms in the central hallway.

Both of which were on the opposite side of the building from the first grade classrooms, like going to the restroom in the 1st grade was an event, because it took half an hour.

On account of it taking roughly 10 minutes for the teacher to get the entire class down to where the restrooms were, 10 for us all to do our business (8 toilets per sex divided restrooms, and 12 kids of each sex), and 10 for her to wrangle us into going back.

Or that was the idea the teachers had at least had calculated at the start of the year. The thing is that things tend to go faster once there's an established routine.

So later into the year it was taking less and less time for the class to actually get to the restroom, giving us all more time to actually spend in the restroom before heading back to class.

It was- You know that one post about how using the manual sharpener was the elementary school version of a smoke break, think something like that but this situation was more along the lines of the girls bathroom at the club, except a bunch of 1st graders.

We had nearly 20 minutes of bathroom time at one point before the break schedule was changed because teachers learned we were doing a bit more than going to the restroom during the break time.

Meaning our teacher opened the door one day to see the What Girls Do When They Go To The Restroom Together phenomena in full force.

A group of four 1st graders siting in the middle of the restroom, playing gold fish, chatting about whatever counts as drama to a bunch of 6 & 7 year olds, passing around a can of soda someone had smuggled in, along with pixie sticks someone else had brought.

Another group of three had someone who was trying to get advice as to why they couldn't keep their tomagotchi alive and had to keep starting over.

Some girl was coloring her nails with a sharpie while sitting on the sink counter with her own drink. I can't remember if it was soda or not, but I do remember it specifically because she knocked it over when our teacher barged in and got it all over herself.

I was lucky enough to have actually needed to use the toilet that bathroom trip so I didn't get in trouble, but bathroom trips were shortened by 10 minutes after that, and there wasn't any spare time to goof off in there after that because the teachers kept much closer eyes on us.

A lot of guys seem to think the girls going to the restroom in groups and taking forever while in public is something we develop as teenagers, but it's really not for a lot of us.

Like the social training for this behavior, and yes, this culture, starts basically the same time as all of the other kinds of social training starts.

You see this behavior from your moms and aunties, your older sisters/cousins/their friends, random older girls and women who you happen to cross paths with while using public restrooms.

Sure not every women does this, or at least not to this extent, but it's very normal for women to go to the restroom in groups, and then do things other than use the toilet. Especially if that restroom is large enough where there's space to just stand around and not be in other people's way.

It's not uncommon for one girl to not actually need the toilet at all. Maybe she's coming along so she won't be alone in a club, maybe she's there to hold her friends stuff while they use the toilet, maybe she just wants to come because she feels like it.

She might want to do something else like touch up her make up or hair, or she might need to readjust the girls, or she might just want to get away from the crowds for a bit.

Going to the restroom with your group of girls is very much part of the female boding experience. You trade stories, you help each other out if you have an emergency and have no supplies, you give advice, you get advice, sometimes it's even where you meet new friends.

[harryhoney-bee]

I'm feeling really soft and fuzzy today, So if I can request something I want to do that abeja 🐝💓

#Concept: Nightly routine with y/n and Harry- parents of two little babies.

Tag me if you write this baby ✨✨

Adore you alot 💕

Night Routine

Warning: your ovaries might explode... mine did 🤚🏻 I would give this man 9 children if he asked.

Word count: 1.7k

I have a kofi, so please consider buying me coffee if you can <3

I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think 😚

“But I want to take a beth with him, daddy,” Cecília whined to Harry, while he undressed her, putting her new pajamas and towel on the bathroom counter.

“My little darling, he is still little, he can’t take bath with you,” Harry explained, taking Cecí on his lap and putting her inside the warm tub, handing her some of her favorite toys. “Lorenzo is just 6 months, he’s not as big as you.”

Harry made a bowl with his hands, wetting her curly hair and applying shampoo, a pout still on her face. “Please, daddy?” she said, her chubby hand grabbing his arm. Cecí had already mastered her puppy eyes technique, and she knew how much her dad had a weak spot for her.

“Alright, alright,” He finally gave in, “but he will stay outside of the tub, he doesn’t know how to sit by himself.”

“Thank you, daddy!” The girl splashed water around in excitement, which made Harry smile. That’s how he always wanted to see her: happy and healthy.

Harry went to the door, keeping an eye on the girl in the tub. “Baby? Are you done nursing? Cecí wants to see Lorenzo,” he tried to call his wife as loud as he could while being mindful of Lorenzo, who could be asleep by now. He never wanted to alarm any of him or Cecília with his loud voice.

In a matter of seconds, Y/n appeared in the hallway, a confused expression on her face while Lorenzo was calmly laying down on her arms, his little hands resting on Y/n’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why does she want to see him? We just had diner together,” she asked, heading in Harry’s direction.

“I’m not sure, guess she just missed him,” Harry answered, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead and bending down to talk to a very awake Lorenzo. “But who wouldn’t miss you, huh? Such a cutie, right buddy?” he was aware that using a baby voice wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t help, Lorenzo was just extremely adorable.

“Mommy! Enzo!” Cecília called, from the opposite side of the bathroom, “come here mommy, miss you too.”

Y/n sat on the bathroom floor, Lorenzo still with her. “Hey, my heart, having a good bath with daddy?” she asked at the same time Harry sat down by her side and hugged her from the side, laying his chin on her head.

“Yeah! Daddy always let me play,” Cecília took one of the yellow ducks and showed her mom, “This is Mc Duck.”

“Wow, he’s a very beautiful duck isn’t he?” She asked, giving Lorenzo to Harry while kneeling near the bathtub since Cecí still had to wash her hair, Y/n gently took the excess of shampoo from the girl’s hair, while Harry tried to keep Lorenzo entertained by singing him a silly song.

“He is, I love yellow,” the little girl admitted, “I think Lorenzo loves yellows too.”

“And why do you think that, Cecí?” Harry asked amused while pretending to eat the boy’s fingers.

“Because we’re are best friends,” She said as if the answer was obvious, “and friends like the same things.” Y/n and Harry looked at each other and laughed, for a five-year-old girl she knew a lot about relationships.

“Oh, how do you know that?” Y/n asked, finishing washing her hair, letting Cecília enjoy her time in the bath.

“Because you and daddy are best friends, you wear the same clothes sometimes, listen to the same music, and watch the same movies,” with every new topic she would count down on her fingers, it was quite a comical sight.

Harry’s chuckle filled the room, the baby on his lap giggled too. “Well, my little lady, you are right. But friends can also like different things, too,” he told her. “Me and mommy like a lot of similar things, but we also have our preferences.”

“Exactly, daddy loves bananas, but I don’t” y/n complemented, getting Cecília out of the tub, helping her into some warm clothes, “I don’t like to work out, but your dad always wakes up early to go for a run, see? We like different things but we still love each other.”

Harry got up from the floor, rocking Lorenzo softly, his heavy eyes indicating how sleepy the baby was. He took the combing cream in his hand and began combing Cecília’s curls with one hand, while his other arm held Lorenzo. Being a father of two made him very talented at doing two things at the same time. While he did that, Y/n was getting Cecí’s toothpaste ready.

“Daddy, do you love mommy even if she doesn’t go running with you?” Cecí asked, before opening her mouth so Y/n could brush her teeth. Normally they would let Cecília do it by herself, with their supervision, but it was already late and the couple desperately needed to get the children to bed, or else their routine would be messed up. Good thing Lorenzo seemed to be falling asleep already.

“Of course I do! We don’t love people just because they do the same things we do, we love people because they are kind and respectful to us, yeah?” Harry said, looking at Y/n and blowing her a kiss. This is what he loved the most about parenthood: watching the kids growing into their best version.

Parenting was made in many different ways, but the couple especially loved having these kinds of conversations. Even though Cecília was still young, she was already beginning to comprehend what love and friendships were, and Harry and Y/n had the privilege to teach her that.

Harry finished her hair, putting the brush and the products in their place under the sink while Y/n put on some socks on Cecí’s feet, the little girl was yawning, seeming tired. Lorenzo started to fussy on Harry’s arms.

“Guess it’s time to sleep, huh?” Harry said, caressing Cecílias head, “Tired, my baby? Want daddy to read a bedtime story to you? Or do you want mommy?” At the same time he mentioned Y/n, Lorenzo started to soft cry. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking down at the upset’s baby face.”

Y/n took his from Harry’s arms, cuddling him closer to her chest, “What do you want, Enzo? Mommy just fed you” she looked at her husband, “I’ll nurse him again on the bed, he’s probably just a bit agitated, will you put her to sleep?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The woman kissed Cecília on the forehead, “have a good night, ok, baby? Mommy will take you to the playground tomorrow, alright?”

“Ok mommy, I love you and little bro too,” she said, giving a hug to her mom before she disappeared through the door with the crying baby.

Harry took Cecília by her small hand, leading them to her room, just by the side of the main suite, where the couple slept. He guided the little girl to her bed, giving her all of her favorite stuffed animals, and covered Cecília in her Lilac duvet.

“What story do you want today?

“The pirate one, please,” she asked, laying her head on the pillow as Harry went to her bookshelf, picking the one with the title Pirate’s cove. He sat by the end of the bed and began telling the story.

“I have a story for you, a story of untold riches and a young lad who found them. And who am I, you ask? Well, I am the spirit of the sand-dollar, a pirate and a buccaneer, Captain of the seahorse, the finest ship to ever sail the seven seas…”

Harry would occasionally stop to answer any questions Cecília had, but after 15 minutes he was done with the book and the girl was fast asleep, hugging tight to her little lamb. He made sure she was tucked in and turned off the lights (besides the one on the side of Cecília’s bed, she was scared to sleep in a pitch-black room), he closed the door and headed to his bedroom.

To Harry’s surprise, Lorenzo was sleeping in his bassinet by the side of the mattress. He usually would sleep in his nursery, but today just seemed like an off day to the little boy. Harry got closer to him, stroking the chubby cheeks, “Oh my little bug, did mommy let you sleep here with us? You’re not feeling fine?”

“I think he’s teething,” Y/n said in a raspy voice, taking her head from the pillow, “he’s even a bit warmer than usual, I think his gums are itching.”

“My poor baby,” Harry mumbled, turning his head to Y/n, “I hate seeing him upset, maybe we could make some homemade Popsicle, it helped when Cecília was teething.”

“Yeah, we can try that, we can make them tomorrow.” she patted the mattress, “now please come to bed, he did a number on me, I’m so tired.”

“Alright baby,” Harry took off his shirt, standing only in sweatpants, he went to the bed, laying by Y/n side, one arm hooked on her waist as she cuddled to him, placing her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Y/n said against his neck.

“Oh baby, I am the lu--”

“--I mean, how many husbands would still love their wives even if they wouldn’t go jogging at 6 in the morning?” she said teasingly, her giggles reaching his ear.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “you are making a lot of jokes for someone who is tired,” he kissed her temple. “I’m gonna wake you up at 5 am tomorrow, so we can be fitness together.”

“Don’t you dare! You do that and your plan of being a father to three it’s over.”

“Damn sweetheart, that’s not very nice, huh?”

“You’re the one who started,” she said, before closing her eyes, snuggling to Harry’s body. The man placed a hand on her belly, falling asleep minutes later.

Tag list: @sunandherflores @elenagilbert01 @bellelittleoff, @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

If you don't want to be in the tag list just let me know, please!! <3

[dadsbongos]

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Chapter 7 / Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter

5.6K words

~~

FRIDAY. 2:50 PM.

Eddie was waiting for you outside of your seventh hour, leaning against the opposite wall in the corridor as you strolled out. You rushed to him as soon as you’d noticed him.

A few kids stare when you wrap him tightly in a hug but, to be quite frank, fuck them.

Eddie returns the embrace, hands still glued to your sides when the two of you pull away, “I’m gonna go puke up my pride and beg for an extension. If I can’t make it, just wait for me afterwards - good luck.”

“Okay,” before you could regret it, you press a quick kiss to his cheek, “I have to go run and get into character. Good luck begging, Eds.”

3:05 PM.

Leslie Johnson had to fulfill the minor role of the prologue reader since the original one dropped out last week after catching the flu. Leslie Johnson was the theater president and while not in the play outside of reading the prologue, was deeply invested in this production going off without a hitch.

Which would explain why she’s so pissed at you. Incensed, even. Borderline pugnacious with the others.

“I can’t put it off anymore,” she shakes her head and peeks through the curtains to the audience.

You also peek through the curtains, though your eyes instantly dart to the two seats in the first row that you took care to specifically reserve. Neither one has a body in it.

Once again, if you were to have a bird’s eye view, then perhaps you would realize how bizarre it is that Mr. Harvey even allowed a delay when you said it was for Eddie.

“Hey,” Leslie suddenly claps a hand to your shoulder and squeezes through the material of your red Capulet dress, “I’m sorry your boyfriend couldn’t make it, but we have to go on.”

You reluctantly move backstage for Leslie to take her place at the center of the stage.

“Stop pulling at your dress,” Mikey Port, your stage beau playing as Romeo, takes your hands away from where they’re subconsciously tugging the corset of your dress, “You’ll ruin the material.”

“Eddie isn’t here,” you mumble quietly as Leslie begins her performance.

It’s in moments like these where you’re being a nuisance that you’re glad the theater program can’t afford body mics. But tomorrow, when your voice is shot from being so loud and when you’re remembering how much Hawkins spends on the sports department - you’ll be mad again.

“Munson?” Mikey leans down with wide eyes, when you glare at him he stands upright and shakes his head, “Sorry. I’m sure he’s great.”

“He is,” you lightly punch his shoulder, “Listen for your cue, dick.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes again, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You look nice, by the way.”

All you manage is a fragile smile before backing away so as to not distract Mikey.

It’s true. The dress you’d been fitted in for the role of Juliet was simply stunning. Her signature ruby red bathing with yellow accents in the Italian Renaissance gown. White square neckline with, the fittingly named, juliet sleeves.

You felt pretty. It was a shame Eddie couldn’t see it.

You shake your head and smooth the skirt of your gown as Mikey Port exits the stage swiftly.

Amaya Smith and Lola Jones - playing Lady Capulet and the Nurse, respectively - move to the center of the stage.

Amaya stands with her chin high, her dress just a little more regal than yours for the role of your mother. She turns to Lola and says sternly, “Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.”

Lola slouches forward just a little and shakes her head disappointedly, “Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, I bade her come. What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid! Where's this girl?” she moves her head as if searching for you, you pick up the tail of your dress and prepare to charge out on stage for your introduction, “What, Juliet!”

You hurry out to join the girls, brows pinched as though annoyed. Your eyes just barely skim the audience when you’re turned to them, “Hey, now! Who calls?”

The audience is sparse, not even your sweet neighbor, Dustin is there.

But more importantly - and what you really care about - Eddie is not in that seat.

You feel bad, though, for thinking such a thing. Because you can clearly see Robin and Steve in the lacking crowd. Steve’s got two bouquets tucked into his lap, one of them undoubtedly Robin’s that she made him hold onto.

Lola turns to you, “Your mother!”

“Madam, I am here,” you huff at Amaya, “What is your will?”

The gaze of the audience is electric but it’s like sparklers when you desire a fireworks show. A gentle rock when you need a throttle. A pond when you wanted to sink beneath the ocean.

And you hate to think it’s all because Eddie isn’t here.

You hate to think that Eddie is the reason you feel alive, but you suppose that’s the problem with growing so attached to somebody. The thrill of life most certainly doesn’t die, but now it feels dulled.

But then again, Eddie would cheer the loudest by the time the play is done. So it’s only natural to miss him.

3:57 PM.

Your knees are starting to ache as you kneel on the balcony set created by the theater kids more interested in the behind the scenes work. Something you can deeply respect and be thankful for; the balcony may hurt, but it’s certainly better than no balcony at all.

You can hear Mikey call from the floor of the stage, “He jests at scars that never felt a wound!”

You take a deep breath and come to a stand at the railing of the phony balcony.

Mikey’s blond hair bounces as he shifts with his monologue. It’s nothing like the way Eddie’s long hair moves and your eyes, yet again, scan the crowd.

Both seats remain empty.

You’ve been dreading this monologue since you screwed it up during the audition. This time there wasn’t just kindly Mr. Harvey to let you start over. Yes, these people were expecting you to do poorly because hey, it’s just high school theater, but you’d be lying if you said that flubbing a line wouldn’t affect you.

You’re valedictorian, dammit, you should be able to nail a couple lines.

Or is that just your parents talking? The parents that aren’t here, might you add.

“It is my lady, O, it is my love!” Mikey commands attention and you’ll have to remind yourself to congratulate him later on for a great performance, he holds his hand out to you and you feel foolish leaning over the banister with wide, awestruck eyes (even though you’re sure you’ve looked at Eddie like that more than once) and have to pretend you don’t see him, “O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?”

You always found Romeo & Juliet so idiotic. You only auditioned because it seemed like a good chance of adrenaline and Mikey Port asked you to in second period culinary. Two people falling so in love they’d rather die than be apart - all within four days?

As if.

“The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars! As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven!”

Now, though, you’re questioning yourself.

Last week you would barely wave at Eddie in the halls and now you were spending your free minutes between appearances on stage playing scenarios in your head about how he could kiss you in his van before school. How you still have his leather jacket. How his thrifted and gifted rings are more alluring than The One Ring in Tolkien’s novels. Like wildfire, it seemed.

So quick.

So unexpected.

But unlike with wildfire, you weren’t complaining.

“O, that I were a glove upon that hand,” Mikey sighs and clutches his chest and it can only remind you of the man who’s not here, “That I might touch that cheek!”

“Ay, me!” you shake your head, apparently in despair.

“She speaks,” Romeo was a douche though, that was something Eddie definitely had over him.

He also had the fact that he’d never creep on a thirteen-year-old. 

You wish he was here to make fun of the impossibility that Juliet wouldn’t see Romeo standing below her balcony at this moment. 

“When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,” your nails bite at the fake railing, hoping to channel your bubbling nerves in a way that isn’t fucking up your lines, “And sails upon the bosom of the air.”

Your hands come up to your chest, blinking doe-eyed at the high ceiling and holding your heart, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Before you can dreamily sigh the next lines, there’s a bang at the back of the theater. Even Mikey whips around on his heels to face the source of the sound.

In the doorway are two heaving, breathless bodies. Each holding one side of the double doors.

Through the darkness of the seating area, you can still make out that silhouette. Eddie and Dustin stand up straight and see that they’ve captured attention.

Eddie’s eyes dart up to the stage and you can just make out the sight of his broad smile. He waves excitedly and you give a minor nod in acknowledgement. In fear of breaking character and smiling so wide the audience actually notices - your eyes shoot to the stage floor.

Your eyes pop back up to see Eddie clumsily planting himself in one of the reserved seats at the front row - Dustin trailing after him. Eddie puts his hands up as if to say ‘don’t mind us’ and then gestures to the stage. You can see Robin cupping a hand over her mouth to hide her laughter while Steve shakes his head.

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name,” you bring the attention back to yourself, returning to the role of a lovestruck Juliet, “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

Not that you think it’ll really be acting now that you can comfortably see the way Eddie is flashing a toothy grin at you from the audience.

Mikey leans away as if he’s preparing to dart off stage, “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

Eddie’s gaze feels like the fireworks beneath your skin. The throttle. The ocean.

“‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague,” you look out at the audience, and you can’t deny the fact that your eyes sweep to Eddie, “What’s Montague?”

You wonder if through your studying, Eddie has learned the meaning of Juliet’s monologue. You wonder if he knows what you’re saying when you look at him with such affection.

Does he know that Juliet is asking why it matters what his name is? Does he know that you feel the same? 

That you’ve never been embarrassed of him, not once. You’d parade him around Hawkins like the eighth world wonder that he is if he would let you. You would take every comment and remark about how you should’ve ended up with Steve like Nancy did and you’d tell whoever said that to fuck off because they had no idea what they were talking about. To hell with the staring and the whispers, you only want him to lay his heart with you.

“It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name?”

People call him a freak for being himself when they’re all too terrified to so much as stumble out of line. Eddie never looked more angelic to you than when he was making his obnoxious speeches in the cafeteria. 

What’s in the name Eddie Munson?

Fear and scorn. Kindness and endearing.

You’re glad you were thrown over the lifeboat when you were because it all led to right now.

“That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Eddie is enthralled as he watches you perform. His body feels at ease for once. No spinning his rings. No bouncing leg. His attention has been captured by you wholly and he hopes you can somehow sense that up on stage.

He’s astounded by how much he’s enjoying the play because he’s always hated them until now. He’s further astounded by the fact that it’s Romeo & Juliet that he’s enjoying.

He feels ridiculous now. He used to bandwagon on jests and jabs about how quickly Romeo and Juliet fell in love but here he is. Yes, he feels absolutely ridiculous, but he can’t say he would have it any other way.

“Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself!”

6:22 PM.

The crimson of your fake blood pack, hidden just under the white square neckline of your dress, is going to stain. You know that as soon as it bursts under the pressure of the toy dagger.

Mikey Port doesn’t make a sound as you fall atop his body and play dead.

In the very back, a baby starts crying and you have to hold yourself from sighing - who takes their baby to Romeo & Juliet? Scratch that, who brings their baby to a play in general? Although, if they were just doing it to hopefully get out early, you almost commend them.

It’s a struggle to restrain your breathing to a minimum as the play crawls to its end. You nearly pinch Mikey’s side when he breathes too deeply and shifts both of you. 

Finally, finally - you hear Jacob Linsky’s posh voice in the role of Paris pipe up,

“A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.” 

The audience breaks into applause and the curtains draw closed. 

You push yourself up and off of Mikey to inspect the fake blood splatter, it’s already beginning to dry on your costume and skin. You sigh at the future clean up you’ll have to perform. 

Leslie rushes out while a few of your peers sweep the props off stage. She stands in the middle of the cast and takes your hand to whisper, “Your boy came.”

You can’t even defend Eddie against the title of yours, instead grinning and squeezing her hand, “I noticed.”

“You two are gross,” she whispers as the curtains peel open.

Each actor and stage hand is lined up to take the final bow, but you just want to rush off this stage and ask Eddie what he thought.

Good God, you really hoped he liked it.

…

You manage to catch up to Eddie outside the auditorium just as Dustin is approaching his mother’s honking car. He’s waving though, and you can just make out the sound of him saying he’ll talk to you tomorrow.

“You look bloody pretty,” Eddie mocks an English accent, pointing at the crimson blotch on your dress and sick.

“Thanks,” you curtsy, “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Well,” he shrugs, “when you get called a moron by Mike Wheeler, it’s time to change something. Also, O’Donnell said that since I’m going to see you perform, she’ll cut the questions in half as long as I write a paragraph about what I thought about your performance. Favoritism works.”

“Hey!” before you can turn, you feel Robin’s lithe arms wrap around your neck and she squeezes, “You were so good!”

Steve nods, handing you both the bouquets, “Best part of the whole damn thing.”

“Aw, shucks,” you’re half-joking as you shyly hold the flowers - you’re half-serious in that you’re not used to this sort of praise, “I’m glad you guys came.”

“‘Course, we did,” Robin lands a fake punch to your shoulder, “Didn’t make Keith solo the store for nothin’!”

“Yeah, and I’m not kidding - you rocked up there, nerd,” Steve turns to Eddie and nods with what passes as a respectful smile, “Good to see you could make it, Munson.”

Robin’s eyes widen and she cuts a look to you, you mirror her expression because wow - Steve said Eddie’s name and it didn’t even sound like he was being strangled to do it.

“Just had to be here, you know?” Eddie holds out his hands, “Let me carry one a’ those, pretty girl.”

“No, they’re mine,” you turn so he can’t grab at them.

“Provolone,” Robin sniffs the air, “and brie.”

“Alright, we get it,” you roll your eyes.

“I gotta get this one home before her curfew,” Steve lays a hand to Robin’s head despite her protests, then he looks between you and Eddie, “You good with a ride?”

Before you can reply, Eddie nods, “Yeah, I got her.”

Steve gives a thumbs up and pats your shoulder as he passes you. It’s a rare sign of genuine affection that few people receive from Steve Harrington, so in a show of how dearly you treasure him, you call out as he walks to his car, “Don’t crash!”

He flips you off.

“I know I give Harrington shit but maybe he’s kind of okay,” at your playful gasp, he repeats, “Kind of.”

You shuffle the bouquets carefully into the crook of one arm and take one of his hands, running the pad of your thumb over his closest ring, “I’m glad you could make it. Hope you liked the show.”

“It was great,” he turns his hand so now it's palm-up and takes the initiative to weave his fingers with yours, “Didn’t know that Shakespeare spoils the whole thing right in the beginning.”

“Yeah, he was the original dickhead,” you watch as kids take pictures with each other and their families and you find it strangely easy to ignore the fact that your parents decided to not come tonight, “The cast ‘n’ crew are gonna go to Enzo’s, if you wanna see the wild side of my life, for once.”

“My dear lady,” he places a hand over his chest, “I’d be honored.”

You retract your hand from his and put up a finger to say ‘one moment’ before hurrying over to a girl he thinks he’s only sold to once. Amaya Smith - honor roll student and next in line to take over Hawkins High journalism once Nancy graduates.

Her eyes widen at whatever you’re telling her and her gaze bounce from you to where Eddie stands. He waves eagerly.

Eddie follows Mikey Port’s car to Enzo’s and for once he actually doesn’t want the radio loud. It’s on, but you can only tell when there’s silence. Your flowers are resting in the backseat of his van and you hope you forget them when he drops you off so he has more reason to come see you tomorrow.

You’re holding hands with Eddie over the center console. 

Your mouth is running nearly a mile a minute as you explain the trials and tribulations of the dreaded blood packet.

“Is that still in there?”

“Huh?”

“The fake blood pack. Did you ever throw it away?”

“Oh, shit,” you laugh and pull back your neckline to tug out a misleadingly small plastic pouch - split open with dried fake blood clinging at the cleavage. You hold up the pouch for Eddie to see in his peripheral, “Want my blood pack? It was in my bra.”

He dramatically gasps and drops his jaw, letting go of your hand to hold his out - palm up as if accepting the gift, “Well, in that case…”

You place the pack in your lap, “When we park, I promise.”

“Damn,” he huffs but continues to hold his hand up, “Hold my hand again, it’s getting cold.”

Naturally, you comply. 

Eddie can only huddle next to you in the corner of the booth when you’re both finally sat in Enzo’s. The blood pack now in his pocket and he knows he’ll probably forget to throw it away and then will get emotionally attached when he remembers that you gave it to him. 

“I knew theater kids were loud, I didn’t know they were this loud,” he mutters to you.

You give Eddie narrowed eyes as you eat, then shake your head, “I know you’re not complaining about other people being loud.”

“Not complaining,” Eddie being Eddie has already eaten half of his pasta, now planning to take the other half home for a warrior’s breakfast tomorrow, “just pointing it out.”

You can’t even argue with him, though. The more musical inclined kids are belting lyrics to various Annie songs while the comedy kids are being generally obnoxious and the tragedy kids are fighting over different plotlines for an original play that the school won’t approve of. 

“Yeah,” you turn back to Eddie, leaning into his side as he throws his arm over the backrest of the boothe, “thanks for coming to dinner. And the play.”

He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Wouldn’t miss it. Except for the whole first act, I definitely missed that.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t even introduced until scene three,” your head falls to rest on his shoulder, food forgotten and likely going into a box, “Did you pass your final?”

“She was grading it when I left, so I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“I bet you passed.”

Comfortable quiet settles before Eddie breaks it.

“You wanna know something?”

“Huh?”

“You wanted to start hanging out with me to feel more alive, but what you don’t notice is that when I’m with you it feels like I’m alive. Skipping through a meadow in the sunshine,” when you giggle, he tacks on, “Naked and free, baby.”

“Is that so?” you lean forward to the table, cheek resting in the palm of your hand, and he misses your body against his already, “No music, though?”

“Oh, how could I forget the music? It’s the greatest minds of our time just on a loop.”

You nod and tap your point-toed 1400s-adjacent boot against Eddie’s mud-caked sneakers, “And that would be…?”

He hums and looks at the ceiling to think, “You. Singing Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin.”

“Isn’t that about sex?” you glare at him, though you’re still smiling, “Like, aggressively obviously about sex.”

The waitress that brings two boxes for you can’t withhold the wide-eyed stare she gives you. You two can’t be bothered to pay much attention as you pack away your leftover food.

“Oh my God, is it?” he acts as though he had no idea, “That’s crazy.”

“Dork,” you tease the toe of your boots against his shoes again, “Absolute dork.”

“And you,” he leans forward and mirrors the way you’re supporting yourself with your hand, “are beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful. Like, that fucking Dracula nerd would write so many poems about you.”

“But would you?”

“Sweetheart, if I knew how to write a poem, you’d be my muse. Always.”

“You can write songs, though,” you point out.

“One day, princess,” he leans over to peck your forehead, “Let’s get out of here. I wanna kiss you in my trailer, now.”

“Oh my God,” your tone is rich with disbelief, but you move out of the booth anyway, “How romantic.”

Eddie grabs both of your boxes while you tell Leslie that you’re leaving. She shoved and gasped as if anything was going to happen.

You and Eddie end up at the counter of Family Video, a copy of Friday the 13th slid over to Keith as Eddie clings to your waist.

“How was the play?” Keith doesn’t actually care, but you’re a good employee and got his two other workers to call off so he might as well ask. Besides, when the local weirdo that people hate is hanging off you - he can’t deny that his curiosity was piqued.

“She’s a natural,” Eddie leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Next top actress of our time.”

“It was fun,” you take the video when Keith slides it back, “See ya tomorrow, Keith.”

He merely waves before returning to the movie he had playing on the counter’s television - not believing either of your statements. 

Upon stepping into Eddie’s trailer, you ask to use his phone once again. You notice that the more often you’re in his trailer, the more you come to miss it when you have to leave.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he gestures loosely to his room while readying the video player in his living room, “You can borrow some clothes, too. If you wanna change out of your costume.”

You nod and begin dialing your home phone number. Just so your mother doesn’t give another guilt trip at the door.

To your surprise, however, it’s your father’s voice that comes alive.

“When will you be home?”

Your body seizes and you grab the cord of the phone, standing up to your mother was one thing but your father was an entirely new beast. From early childhood you can recall him yelling, throwing things - you even have a memory of him lifting you by the collar of your dress and shaking you, but your mother swears it was a dream. You don’t know how you could remember it so clearly if it was a dream.

“I don’t know, Dad…”

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“Don’t know,” you insist.

“I don’t know what’s with this rebellious streak of yours, but it has to stop.”

“I read somewhere that if your child doesn’t rise against you, then something’s wrong. Kids naturally go against their parents when they’re comfortable and if they don’t then they’re not comfortable with their home lives,” you mutter.

“You know who’s home? I can see her car in the driveway of the house right now - Nancy Wheeler. What a nice girl,” he seems to hear you sigh and snaps, “Who are you with right now? Because my girl wouldn’t do this - something’s gotten into you and it has to be one of those bad influences you hang around,” you can imagine the way his eyes go cold and you’ve always thought he looked like a demon when he did that, “Like that Steve and Robin. Harrington has been nothing but trouble since he and Nancy split and you know what I hear about that Robin?”

Your breathing spikes and you grip the phone tighter, “What?”

“No, you say it.”

“Say what?” your skin buzzes in fear and you can’t believe where he’s going.

There’s no way he knows. There’s no chance. Robin has been so fucking careful, you won’t let your dad fuck it up now.

“I hear she’s a pothead,” he spits and you’re earnestly relieved, “Are you turning into that?” you’re quiet and he’s on the verge of yelling, “You’re my girl and I won’t let anybody infect you. Come home and be our sweet girl again.”

His words make your skin crawl, overly affectionate and yet they’re all empty. Too comfortable but he doesn’t mean a word.

Your fingers wind tighter around the phone.

Your father speaks again, “Who are you with?”

You could lie. Say that you and Nancy are friends again. Say that Steve and Robin invited you to a movie night after the play. 

But then you’re doing exactly what he wants. If he can’t have you home, he’ll have you lying and afraid and you’re right back to square one.

Then the past week means nothing.

You don’t want the small acts before rolling over anymore. You can’t live like that.

You deserve to be happy, don’t you? And you’ve wasted your entire life until now being what your parents wanted. You don’t want to fall into step - Nancy can have your parents’ affection, you decide. She never liked them in the first place - they gave her the creeps, she said.

Stouthearted - feeling or displaying no fear by temperament. It was always at the bottom of your vocabulary bucket, and you never imagined you’d be on the giving end of this feeling. Much less so with your parents on the receiving end.

“I’m with Eddie Munson.”

“With?”

“Yeah. I’ll be home before ten.”

Before you can apologize or cringe or regret, you slam the phone down. You wonder if your dad did what he does best and assumed it meant romantically - and while he wouldn’t be wrong in this context, it doesn’t get less annoying.

8:17 PM.

“Stardenburdenhardenbart!” you blurt out upon entering the living room.

“Huh?” Eddie, leaning into the corner of his couch with an arm thrown over the backrest, snaps his attention to you and you can’t help but giggle, “That’s not fucking real. Did your heart just seize in my living room?”

“It’s a German word,” you grin, already knowing what kind of reaction you’ll get at the explanation, “it means many things. Ranging from ‘look at me’ to ‘come here’. It’s used for animals.”

“Wow,” he tosses his head back, “Cannot believe you. Using your smarts against me like that is so cruel.”

“Yeah, well…” you trail off before holding up the dress you’d just changed out of, “I’m definitely stealing this. I did not sweat under those hellish stage lights just to give it up.”

“I will wait with bated breath until getting graced with the sight again.”

You hang the dress over the end of the couch that isn’t going to be used and climb onto the cushions, leaning against Eddie’s side. 

Eddie can barely pay enough attention to the slasher to make fun of it with you while you’re swimming in one of his old Hellfire shirts and plaid pajama pants. He can hardly believe you’re really still here, but he wouldn’t dare to object. He almost expected you to vanish at his fingertips once the play was over. He doesn’t wanna lose you.

And while he doubts there’s any way you don’t like him based on your actions, he’s tired of the undetermined nature of your relationship.

“Thanks for being interested in my life,” Eddie turns to look at you, you turn as well and lock eyes with him, “I hope it was everything you wished for.”

You beam at him, “It was. I’ll even thank you in my valedictorian speech.”

“For what?”

“Showing me a good time,” when he waggles his brows, you gently smack his chest, “Not like that, pervert.”

“So,” his eyes just dart away for a split second.

“So?” you take his chin and tilt his head so he has to look at you.

“I was wondering- would you want to go on a date? With me, just so we’re clear.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to go on a date with anybody else.”

And finally, Eddie leans down and does what led to him dragging you back to his trailer in the first place. He kisses you softly, testing the waters. Diving in deeper only when you lean in, too.

9:59 PM.

You and Eddie are stuck outside of your door. Your flowers are still in his backseat and you’re excited to call him tomorrow so he can come deliver them (and subsequently deliver you from being stuck in your house). Neither one of you wants to break the join of your hands. Eddie knows he’ll see you tomorrow but he doesn’t want to have to stop seeing you now.

To drive home alone. Go to bed alone. Wake up alone.

Now that he has you and you have him, he doesn’t like the taste of loneliness on his tongue. 

God, when did he get so needy?

“I still have your jacket,” you squeeze his hands.

Eddie bumps his forehead with yours, “Hang onto it for me. Keep it safe with your dress.”

You sigh, “I have to get the stain out of that dress.”

“Soak it in cold water and scrub with lemon juice, if that doesn’t work, bring it with you tomorrow.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” you grin, “Excited to know my boyfriend can clean up blood.”

Boyfriend.

Your heart seizes momentarily in panic, worried you’re rushing things. Then Eddie nods against your head, “I’m excited to clean up fake blood from my girlfriend’s fancy dress.”

Girlfriend.

Eddie Munson’s girlfriend.

“I’ve gotta get going, cowboy,” you take a step towards the door and go to release Eddie’s hands.

Before you can, though, he brings you in to peck your cheek and then stands back.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face if you tried, your hand drapes over the doorknob but there’s no motivation to turn it, “I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty boy.”

“I’ll be waiting tirelessly until then, princess.”

10:01 PM.

You watch him stumble back into his van before entering your home. You leave the dress hanging by the washing machine and wander to the phone, not bothering with a hello to either of your parents as they sit in the living room. You know they’re watching and you can feel the heated glares. 

You simply don’t care.

Your fingers dance around the numbers until you hear the sweet drawl of Chrissy, “You’ll never guess what I just did.”

“Well,” you twirl the phone cord around your finger as she speaks, “you’ll never guess what I just did.”

 “What’d you do?”

“I broke up with Jason.”

“Oh, shit!” you cheer, ignoring the way your parents are staring at you with shock rather than indignation, “Good for you!”

“I know, I know,” she’s giggling and you wish she was here so you could hug her in celebration, “but now you share - what’d you do?”

“Well, I’m officially Eddie Munson’s girlfriend…” you trail off and sigh dreamily, “He said I remind him of sunshine and meadows and being naked and I just knew that he was the only guy for me.” 

~~

Taglist @homiesexual-or-homosexual @chainsaw-man-inserts @juggernort @efvyqrs 4 u <3

[lily-drake]

Photograph

Based on

Thank you @johannaiii for letting me write this!!!! It was so much fun and it was a really good prompt!

Talia didn’t like the process of giving birth, in fact she loathed it.  She swore she would never, and she meant never do it again.  But when she was giving birth, and she found out that she was having twins, and she got to hold her children that she sacrificed and suffered for, she loved them.  When she learned that one of them was a girl, she knew that her father would be furious and demand her death.  So she immediately summoned one of the monks from the Tibetan temple that her father was allying with and gave them the girl.  She demanded that they train her and protect, and that she would never, ever be mentioned to Ra’s.  She even killed the nurses who helped her give birth to make sure that there was no one left who would know.  It wouldn’t be hard to find replacements for them anyways, it’s not like their lives were significant.  They had served out their use, now there was no need for them.  When it was time she presented her son, Damian, to her father claiming him to be the only child and heir to the Demon’s Head.  Ra’s was very pleased with her and she felt pride at being able to carry out her task properly that her father was very much pleased with her and her child.

Even though Marinette, as she had named the child before she had given her up, was no longer in the league, she made sure she was still in her daughter’s life.  Once every year she left for “training” purposes with Damian and went to the ancient temple in Tibet to visit her daughter and make sure that the two siblings got to spend time with each other.  Marinette was growing up so fast and the monks would report to her of her daughter’s progress.  They told her that Marinette was destined for greatness and to be a powerful leader, and that pleased Talia greatly.  The man in charge of her daughter's training, Master Wang Fu, would show her photos of her daughter and her accomplishments; she wished that she would be allowed to do the same for Damian.  But the League and the Temple of Order, while partners, were two separate entities when it came to how they were trained and taught.  She smiled as she saw her children sparing on the temple’s grounds, each assessing how strong the other had become since their last meeting a year ago.

They were both 6-years-old now, and Marinette had lost one of her top baby teeth.  She wore the traditional light blue training robes the monks wore while Damian wore his traditional black and red armor with his katana sheathed on his back.  She watched her children and a small smile graced her lips as she watched the two.  They were opposites in almost everything, yet they were still so similar.  Damian’s fighting was aggressive and forceful while Marinette’s focussed on out maneuvering and tiring out the opponent from a distance before striking where it hurt the most.  Their personalities were like fire and ice with Damian being aggressive and mighty while Marinette was soft and humble.  Damian was assertive and forceful in the way he spoke, while Marinette was gentle and descriptive.  Though, like she said before they had many similarities that helped to cement their relationship.  They both were very artistic, in battle they both would get up and personal with their challenger if given the opportunity, both were very intelligent and soaked everything up like a sponge, and both were highly competitive.  The sound of metal being hit together sounded from the training grounds as Damian and Marinette fought with their respective weapons; Damian with his katana and Marinette with her two daggers.

“You’ve definitely improved since the last visit, 'ukht, but so have I.”

Damian announced as he went in to sweep his sister’s legs all while bringing his blade down towards her.  Marinette used her daggers to lift Damian’s blade and flipped backwards as Damian tried to perform his strike.  She was very flexible and graceful when she was in the air.  It sometimes looked as if she were flying when she performed some of her stunts.

“Maybe you have, Xiōngdì, but I seem to still have the upper hand.”

Marinette replied with smugness dripping from her voice as her brother glared at her.  Marinette carefully crafted her words to manipulate while Damian spoke his mind and used his to order and command.  They were opposites, but they completed each other in a way few will ever know.

The day Damian and Talia were to begin their trek back down the mountain Fu ran up to Damian and placed a piece of paper in his hands.  He bowed respectfully to the old man and looked at the picture.  It was a picture the old man had taken a few days ago.  Marinette was smiling brightly and had her arm around his shoulder while he had his arms crossed in front of him and leaned into his sister’s touch with a small smirk.  They were both in their training clothes and stood in front of the mountains that hid and protected the Temple of Order.  He smiled at it and glanced at his sister who was waving goodbye with a big sad smile.  He simply nodded and left not knowing that this would be the last time he would for many years that he would lay eyes on her once again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Order, it was gone, destroyed!  Marinette felt tears rush down her face as she watched her friends and mentors perish in the flames of miraculous magic gone astray.  She could feel the cold wind passing by her as Master Fu dragged her away, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from her home that was falling into pieces.  What would Damian think, she had to leave something for him to let him know she was okay!  But she was never given the chance because she couldn’t pull away from her master.  They were the last ones left, and Marinette couldn’t wrap her mind around it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian and Talia hiked the trial many months later, and as they neared the top they could sense something was definitely off.  The top of the temple would usually be in view by now. When they finally reached the top they froze as they saw the ruins of the burned and destroyed temple in front of them.  Talia was the first to break from her daze and ran to the ruins searching through them to find any remains of her daughter.  Damian soon joined his mother, but it was no use.  Damian and Talia believed the worst had happened to her, and with silent tears flowing down his face he stabbed his sword into the ground in front of the burnt remains and fell onto his knees in front of it.  The sword would serve as a gravestone for the fallen warriors here, but it specifically would serve as Marinette’s grave marker.  She was a brave warrior, one of the best, and she was gone now.  Talia stood by her son’s side and soon kneeled in front of it as well with her hand placed on her son’s shoulder.  As they traveled down the mountain Damian swore that he would never be vulnerable again, he would never care about anyone ever again, because the pain he felt was too intense and never wanted to feel it ever again.

So both He and Talia took on more missions, Talia was rarely at the base, always gone doing whatever her father needed.  The training in Tibet never happened again, and Damian grew closer to his grandfather.  He trained harder, attacked ruthlessly, and channeled all his pain and rage into his strikes.  He held onto the photo that Fu had given him of the two of them so many years ago.  He had it tucked away in a secret place in his room where no one would ever find it, because he wanted to keep her with him in some way.  Never again, he wouldn’t be hurt like before ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette lived with Master Fu in a tea parlor under the guise of Marin Fu.  She helped him run his parlor and distribute his charms to the people through the teas she brewed while he placed charms on people through the massage therapy he did.  Fu let her be home schooled as she already knew way more than any normal school could teach her.  She would just be repeating things when she could be learning more new material.  She was also taught how to better practice her magic and use the miraculous.  She was going to be the new guardian one day, she was going to be the last guardian one day, and that thought scared her and brought back all of the nightmares.  She locked that night and anything before the fire back up in her mind only remembering what she needed to when she needed to.

Fu wanted her to interact with people though, so with the money he made he sent her to a gymnastics class where she could still retain her skills and get better at them.  She honestly loved the classes and she felt so free when she did them.  Nobody could beat her, in fact she advanced to level 10 quickly and was well on her way to the elite by the time she was 13.  And that’s when Hawkmoth struck Paris.

Lady Rouge and her partner Chat Noir made a decent team, but he was nowhere near her skill level which often annoyed her.  He wasn’t a true black cat, her brother was.  He was her balanced counterpart, and this cat was just a stand in.  And as time went on the imbalance continued the boy became corrupted by the destructive energy of the ring.  She had continually told Master Fu about it, but he would not listen.  And then it was time for him to pass, and she became the grand guardian, the last grand guardian.  Tears fell down the young 15-year-olds face as she watched her mentor's spirit leave him in his peaceful slumber.  He was so old, and it was just his time for him to go, but now she had nowhere to go, but she knew what she had to do.

“Hello, M’lady.”

Chat Noir said in a flirty tone as he spun his staff as if the speed he was doing it at would impress her.

“Hello, Chat.”

She replied terse with her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned on the railing of the Eiffel Tower and gazed at the sky that held little stars due to all of the lights of the city below them.

“Are you not excited to see your soulmate?  Come on M’lady,”

He said grabbing one of her hands with a large smile and deep voice,

“let me take you out somewhere, just the two of us.”

It took everything in Marinette not to break his wrist in that moment, but she had to play along.

“Okay.”

Chat’s eyes widened and his leather tail began to move side to side in an excited manner.

“W-wait, really?!”

“You know what, ya.  This week has been really tough and I could use it.”

Chat’s smile turned into a smirk and a dark twinkle lit up his eyes.  He took a step back and held his hand, his ringed hand, out for her to take.  SHe smiled at him gently and innocently and took his hand, and as he was about to pull her forward she took hold of the rings and ripped her hand off, taking the ring with her.  There was a blonde boy with green eyes staring at her with shock and hurt written all over his face, then eventually anger.

“I am revoking you from being able to wield the Black Cat Miraculous.  You are not compatible to wield this power as you are not my balanced counterpart.  The ring has been corrupting and harming you after all of your exposure to it when you are not the right one to wear it while I hold the earrings.  Thank you for the help you have given me in the past, but I’m afraid that I can not risk hurting you any longer.”

The boy stared at her with wide shocked eyes and nodded.  She could see that he too had now noticed the change as with the ring it didn’t feel like he changed at all.  She helped him get to his house and left after shaking his hand and thanking him one last time for his help.  And as she was about to leave the property she heard the sound of something above her opening and through the now open window she saw an akuma flying out of it.

She quickly caught the akuma and crashed through the glass window into the dark room.  Before Hawkmoth could even realize what had happened she had tied him up in her yo-yo and he was pinned in place with the tight cord.  If she pulled it any tighter it would cut into his skin and draw blood.  She grabbed the broach from the middle of the suit --which was as hideous as his akuma designs, if not worse-- and watched the man detransform making sure the camera on her yo-yo recorded the whole thing.

“You will be subject to the curse of whatever your abused kwami sees fit for you, and then the people of Paris will have you.”

Was all she said as she brought the man onto his knees so he could properly respect the kwami and the God’s they are.  Nooroo appeared and stared down at the man in front of him with an angered fiery glare.

“Gabriel Agreste, you have abused me and my miraculous for too long!  I bring upon a curse upon you, that no one will ever believe a word you say, and that your craft of manipulation will only work against you!”

And with that, pain courses through Gabriel and the wings of a butterfly were branded on the left side of his chest just above his heart.  She left soon after that and sent the footage for the police.  She watched from a distance as the police took him in, and told one of the officers that Adrien was innocent and had no connection to his father’s scheme.  Once she was sure Gabriel would not be able to escape his justice she pulled the horse miraculous from her yo-yo and summoned a portal to wherever she needed to be next.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was in the cave training when Todd burst in and began to run towards him with a stupid smug grin on his face.  Damian rolled his eyes and watched Todd stop in front of him holding something small and flimsy in his hand.

“Demon Spawn,”

He breathed out, his smug smile growing wider,

“Did you have a girlfriend in the league?”

Damian was….confused.  He had no such thing, but as Todd showed him the thing in his hand his blood froze.  It was the photo of him and Marinette.  How did he find it?!  Why did he even have it?!

“Give it back, Todd.”

Damian growled lowly hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“She is!  Guys, Damian had a-“

He tackled Jason after that and wrestled the photo out of his grip and held it close to him.  He glared daggers at Todd and made absolutely sure that the old photo was still intact.  Once he was sure.  Todd was back on his feet and Damian had the urge to run him through with his sword for daring to rummage through his belongings and to dare touch his picture.  He opened his mouth to spit out fiery words of anger, when a portal opened right in front of Damian.  A girl walked out of it and the portal immediately closed.  It was absolutely silent in the cave as the other occupants who were also there stared at the person.  The girl was rigid as she stared Damian directly in the eyes, and he felt a familiar pull to her.

“Kaalki, Tikki separate.  Tikki spots off.”

She spoke quickly, and her voice, and those words, and he knew who she was.  But that was impossible, because she had died, hadn’t she?!  Arms wrapped around him and he could hear sniffles and he felt his arms wrap robotically around the small frame of his sister.

“Xiōngdì, I missed you so much!  I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner!  Th-the Order was destroyed and Fu woul-wouldn’t let me leave a message, and-and someone was misusing the Butterfly in France (sniff).  And-and…..”

She took a long shaky breath in and sighed,

“I missed you so much.”

It took a while to realize that silent tears were falling down his face, and he hugged her even tighter against his chest.  Because his sister, his twin sister was alive, and she hadn’t died in the fire and destruction of the temple.

“It’s okay, 'ukht.  I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for a few precious moments before Todd yelled,

“What the f*!”

———————

Permanent Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar

[roger-that-cap]

all the flowers will bloom

hades!natasha x persephone!reader

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: my own take on greek mythology (apologies to greek people who may possibly see this), usage of both persephone and y/n, angry gods, this is a short series, angst and fluff!!

word count: 4.2k

this is part one!!

please guys i’m so excited for this one, already have so much written and planned!!

You were born from your mother thousands of years ago without so much as a whimper, and when you arrived after a particularly peaceful and short labor,, flowers bloomed for miles. You grew quickly, and you had gained the power of life within everything that grew. Your domain was everything that the light touched and below in the soil, and soon, you were the young goddess of nature and growth. If anyone wanted to find you, they could surely look at the trail of bright flowers that you left with every step of your feet.

The name you were born with was Persephone. But just as the humans wanted to make names for themselves, you wanted one of your own, too. One that was not overshadowed by your mother being Demeter, one of the twelve Olympian Gods, and the ever kind yet harsh Goddess of the Harvest. And so, you changed your name, like many of the others much older than you had done, and all but your mother and the nymphs that she charged to take care of you called you Y/N.

“Lady Persephone,” a soft voice called from behind you as you dipped your toes into your favorite pond, and you sighed when you looked over your shoulder even after recognizing the familiar voice. “Your mother wants you home soon.”

You knew that your mother did. She always wanted you home, away from the outside world- where you truly belonged. She didn’t want you anywhere that she couldn't walk twenty steps to get to you, despite you being two thousand years old. Your mother’s idea of a good day was when you stayed inside, and it wasn’t fair. When you could convince her to let go of your leash just a little, she sent nymphs to watch you, girls you weren’t even close to. They were so focused on not angering your mother that they hardly cared about what you thought. But deep down, you understood. Your mother’s hand was just as gentle as it was harsh, and like the harvest she watched over, she only gave you what you gave her to work with. If you produced her mind with the equivalent of dry soil and broken land, she would be unruly, fickle, quick to fall apart in frustration. If you watered her and gave her the amount of sunlight she needed, she would bless you. She had been that way since the dawn of her time.

“I don’t feel like returning, I’ve only just gotten here.” You weren’t looking at them, but you could practically feel the way that they were eyeing each other, getting more nervous with every passing second. You felt the bottom of the shallow part of the lake that you were in with your foot, and you smiled at the sound of silence, knowing that it would only last for a few minutes.

“Your mother will be quite angry if something happens to you, my lady.”

“Nothing is going to happen for that reason,” you sighed, and when you got a few moments of silence, you knew that they knew you were right.

You walked through life practically fearlessly. From birth, you were deeply connected to every animal . You had no reason to fear even the most vicious bear or boar, and you could not die from poisonous plants of any kind. No minor or major god who knew your mother would even dare come close to you with any ill intent, and humans never came where you liked to be. You were probably the safest god of them all, besides Zeus himself.

“Please don't make me return to that house so early,” you pleaded softly, making sure to not sound too whiny. “I need fresh air. I need to feel grass under my feet. How am I supposed to be the goddess of vegetation if I cannot even see the vegetation?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have felt the way that the grass started to sway and the whispers of plants all around you. And you surely would have felt the way that part of the ground opened up to reveal your mother, who had heard your entire small speech. “My, what a talker you are.”

You turned around to face her, and she was already giving you a look before she started to talk to you yet again. “I have already told you to not guilt these kind nymphs into doing you any favors. You’re lucky that they still want anything to do with you, you trouble maker.”

“It’s not my fault that you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust men,” she said, her voice hushed. “They are cruel, and they are disgusting. And you are not to be alone when they could be around.”

“There are none here.”

“You wouldn’t know until it’s too late,” she reasoned, and she held a hand out for you. You grimaced when she pulled your legs out of the water and dismissed the nymphs kindly, and they jumped into the water themselves and disappeared. “I cannot trust many with you, my flower. Do not be rude to the very few that I do.”

You scowled as she turned her back, a face that you had never quite grown the courage to make while she was still watching you. You could rattle off many people that your mother had scared away and told you to stay far away from, and that included humans, most men, and a few of the gods that she didn’t trust to not attempt to take you away.

That was her biggest fear, though she never said it explicitly. It was clear that her fierce protectiveness came from her terror. Young girls were always at risk by being taken, by gods and men alike who had no regard for the opinion or feelings of women. It seemed that every hundred years or so, a huge war would break out on earth, and typically, it was because one man’s wife became another’s hostage. And between gods… it was not unheard of for them to take young goddesses and make them bear heirs. None of the ones that you were close with ever did anything like that, but that didn’t make the threat less real. Your mother made sure that you knew of that.

“Don’t speak to Hermes alone,” your mother would say, her voice half full of fondness. “He means well most of the time, but he is capable of fast talking you into selling your time and your soul.” And then there was another string of advice, such as, “ Never go too far out in the sea. Poseidon is moody, and he may not spare you if you start to drown. It takes a village to anger him, but go out of your way to not push Zeus. He is the mightiest of all, and if he wishes to strike you down, he will.” And with every single harsh word about them, she would always say that she doubted that anyone would truly ever wish harm towards you, the youngest of the young gods, the harmless little Goddess of Growth.

Except for Hades.

“She is pure evil,” your mom had hissed out, and you remembered flinching back at how angered she suddenly was by just the thought of the ancient goddess, and you knew from stories that the nymphs used to tell you that your mother and Hades went way back. And though you didn’t know the full story, you certainly understood that they knew each other not in the best of ways.

“She is capable of murdering anything with even a sliver of life in it, and she reigns over the dead. Anyone who is condemned to have such a gloomy job for all of eternity must be evil, and that she is. If you ever see her, or ever start to feel the choking feeling of death in the air and are not with me, you are to run until you cannot run anymore, do you understand me?” She had made you nod and tell her that you understood verbally, and still, even as days passed, the tension never left her body.

Days later, while nursing a flower as slowly as possible from its bud, you called for her. “Mother,” she turned her head and smiled when she saw what you were doing, and then she responded softly, urging you to continue. “What really happened between you and the Goddess of the Dead?” Her smile dropped instantly.

You never really got the full story about what happened.

§§

You had seen what was happening to you happen to others hundreds of times, mostly humans. Your favorite humans were the ones just like you, young women with parents who were worried sick about everything. And soon, you realized a pattern. Every single one of those children had rebelled in ways, some more drastic than others. It took you two thousand years and a few extra nights for you to realize that it was your turn. You were going to sneak out from right under your mother’s nose, and you were going to be back before the morning. Unless, of course, you found something worth staying for. Something worth risking the wrath of your mother for.

It took weeks for her to leave you alone, even if it was for a second. And for that one instance while she wasn’t breathing down your throat, you shot off like an arrow, out of her sight before she even realized that you had been brave enough to run. You hadn’t ever had to run, but it felt exhilarating. You could feel the wind against your skin and the petals of each flower lovingly brushing against your legs. It felt more freeing than growing wildflowers by your cabin, under the watchful eye of an Olympian and her guard dogs that came in the beautiful form of nymphs.

You had never felt so good in your entire two thousand years.

Feeling life had always been something you could do, and you could feel it even more now that you were running, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth like you had seen soldiers do. With every breath that expanded your lungs, you felt like you could feel trees swaying, or hear leaves singing to you. It grew more addicting, and before you even knew it, you were running until you didn’t recognize where you were. You slowed down with a smile on your face, chuckling to yourself when you thought about how furious your mother was going to be. And then you felt it.

Something to the left of you was terribly, terrifyingly wrong. The life in the area was thriving, but something, a cave it seemed, was crawling with the scary and breathtaking feeling of death. You had felt it before, while discovering lifeless dear or helping your mother bless crops that humans thought had no hope. But you had never felt death on the scale that you were in that moment, and even though the feeling was making you more and more sick by the second, you couldn’t help but approach the cave, the darkest thing in your vision while everything else had enough colors to satisfy your eyes for the rest of your life.

You didn't know what was in the cave. It could have been a dead person for all you knew, but your gift was more or less affecting the cycle of life. You could help. And help, you would. So, you trudged towards the cave and stepped in, your hand covering your throat once you felt the constricting feeling come back even stronger than before. And then, in the dim light, you saw it.

It was a tree, one so dead that it was nearly unrecognizable as one. It had shrunk into itself, almost to the size of a bush, and you could see that the fruits on it had shriveled up, and like the rest of the tree, lost all color. You frowned and uncovered your throat, stepping forward as you watched the dry thing in pity. You reached out for it, bottom lip jutting out as you tried to understand what on earth had happened for it to appear like that. Before you could even ask yourself why you did it, you reached forward and touched the thing with your hand, and like it had known you all along, it started to slowly grow.

It took you a few long minutes to grow it to a point where you recognized the tree, and saw that it was growing pomegranates. The fruit grew redder by the second, and the feeling of death and decay was leaving, but for some reason, traces of it still lingered below, and you figured that it was in the soil. You grinned as you nursed the tree back to life, and the inside of the cave seemed to be just a little brighter.

“I wonder how long you’ve been left here to rot,” you murmured to yourself, your fingers itching to grab one dark purple pomegranate and bite into it, but you knew better. You had just brought it back to life, and eating a part of it would have been cruel. “I wonder if you were even prettier back before-” the ground beneath you made an odd noise, like the earth was taking its first shaky breath, and you braced yourself against the wall of the cave. You gasped when it came back even stronger, and a short scream left your throat when you felt the ground open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

§§

You must have screamed the whole way down, because when you landed harshly on your back, you heard echoes of yourself. You turned and coughed, shaking your head to get rid of the stars that flooded your vision. And then, the second your airways opened, they tightened again, the feeling of death so strong that you thought that you were well on your own way.

You coughed again and clawed at your throat, and then turned on your side as you fought for even just a sliver of breath, and then even with your blurry vision, you saw something huge and dark barreling your way.

“What’s she doing here?” You couldn’t answer. You hardly even knew if they were talking about you. You were still losing it on the ground, gripping at your torn dress and clawing at your throat like that would make it open up.

“She's not human.”

“Wait, wait, she’s not even dead!”

Somehow, the feeling of dread and darkness got even darker, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the overwhelming feeling of death surrounding you like a heavy blanket. “What is all the commotion about?”

Wherever you were grew silent. You heard people scrambling away, leaving you alone with the newcomer. The owner of the voice commanded everything, and you heard the distinct sound of heeled feet coming your way, clicking against stone. And then, right before you lost consciousness, there was a feather-light touch on your throat, right where you felt it was constricting the most, and then you felt the weight on your chest lift off all at once.

You barely got in three breaths before someone shook you, and you blinked rapidly before turning your head towards whoever was grabbing you so boldly. Your eyes focused, and then you almost lost your breath all over again.

You had no time to ogle over the obviously powerful woman and the way she looked. Even if you had time, it would have been ruined by the way she was scowling at you like you were the bane of her existence. “How did you get here?”

You took in a choppy breath. “I don't know. I don’t know where I am.” You looked away from the angry woman and saw your surroundings, and immediately, your heart dropped to your toes.

It was gray. Gloomy. Without any sign of life, not even little buds of grass. There was no color besides a lazy river that was the lightest blue you had ever seen, and it added barely anything to the sight in front of you. The entire place seemed to be made of rock, like one big cave, and the feeling you were getting made you sick. You could breathe again, but something was right. Wherever you were, you were absolutely not supposed to be there.

The woman’s eyes were still narrowed on you, but you didn’t miss the way that her face lit up in the slightest of ways, and then rested at a look of understanding. She let go of you. “You fixed my tree, didn’t you?”

“Your tree?” You repeated, shaking your head and hiding the trembling of your hands by playing with the hem of your dress, something that your mother said that you should never do. It dawned on you seconds later, and you frowned. “The pomegranate tree? It was yours?”

“Of course it’s mine. How were you unaware?”

Before you could let yourself get offended by the woman’s harshness, you crossed your arms for a different reason. “How dare you let something die like that? You left it to rot, I could feel the death from miles away,” you exaggerated, but it still didn’t move the woman. “If you plant something and call it yours, it’s your responsibility to take care of it, not to let it die.”

“My plants never grow, young god.”

You scoffed, even though your mother would be embarrassed that you made the sound with such confidence. “Young god?” You straightened your posture even as your fear grew, and the stranger seemed to grow more and more amused by you. “We’ve never met. It’s bold of you to assume my age.”

“I’ve met all the Olympians, so tyou can’t be one of them, and you’re no demigod, either,” she said, and your heart clenched at the fact. You knew no one who had met all twelve of the major gods that wasn’t one. The woman was certainly a god, it was as obvious as anything in the world, but you had no idea of what. “And you glow like the morning sun. You’re a young god.”

“Maybe so,” you said softly. “But I request that you take care of the things you decide to create.”

“Most people don’t get brave enough to request things from me,” she mused, and then her crossed arms went to her side. “Do you lack the skills to look around you and infer?”

“I suppose I do today,” you shrugged, and she gave a light smirk, almost like you were her entertainment for the day. You could hear your mother’s voice in your head though, telling you to run and that this woman was no good, no matter how at ease she seemed in the moment. In fact, the closer she got to you and the longer she stood there, the more you felt death swirling in the air and trying to pierce through some sort of protection and finish you off for good.

“You’re in the Underworld, young god.” Your breath was stolen right out of your chest, and you could barely see the faint look of triumph on her face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know what that tree was,” she said, and for some reason, her voice seemed to tease you more than reprimand you.

You knew vaguely of what it meant. Now that you knew it was the tree, the one tree on all heaven and earth that you had no business touching, you knew who it belonged to, and what it did. It belonged to the woman before you, the god whose presence was making you more and more terrified by the second. Now, you knew exactly who she was. “You?” You sputtered, and she lifted a perfect brow. “You’re Hades?”

You don’t know what you expected. Maybe a woman dressed in all back wit long, dark hair, and a sickly smile. Maybe you expected for her to look as terrifying as the thought of death was. You expected some one who looked much more terrifying than the red headed woman before you, even though she was without a doubt intimidating. 

“I prefer another name, but that will do from you,” she said, and your jaw dropped. “And you saved my tree.” You knew you had, but the consequences of the far ff tale that you had never imagined would apply to you were running around in your head. You were kicking yourself for being drawn to the tree in the first place, and for your morbid curiosity and the way that you ran straight out of your mother’s suffocating but protecting arms. “Do you know what that means, young god?”

Your voice was shaky, almost not even there when you muttered the word “yes” and stared off into the distance, cursing yourself for not listening to what your mother had told you ever since you could remember.

“I hope you have enough strength for the entire garden, young god.” 

You were bound to Hades and her realm by age old magic, and there was nothing that you or your mother could do until you found a way to do the impossible; make the Garden of Hell grow.

Your blank stare must have made her uneasy, because she snapped her fingers in front of your face. When you blinked, you saw something huge come barreling your way, and once you realized what it was, your heart fell into your stomach. She had summoned a huge, three headed dog to come and lean over the both of you, eyes yellow and staring at you with intrigue that made you want to screech. Instead, you swallowed. “Please. You can let me go, I won’t tell.”

“Its magic almost as old as I am, placed by Hecate. You may know her as Wanda.” She gave you a shrug, but she hardly looked bothered. “Her spell cannot be broken, not even by herself.”

Your breathing was accelerating, and you saw Hades look at you strangely, and you were sure she could sense your extreme fear. You locked eyes with the dog, the dog even you had heard of despite your mother cursing the owner’s name. “I don’t know how I fixed your tree, and I doubt I could do it again. Please, let me leave.”

“By bringing that tree back to life, you’ve made your decision and signed your name in blood.” You both ignored the pitiful sound that escaped your throat. “There’s nothing that I can do about it.”

You gulped. “My mother will come looking for me,” you said, and you watched her unbothered face drop just a bit, and then she tilted her head to the side. You had gotten her. “She won’t stop until she finds me and brings me home.”

“You say this like I should be afraid of your mother, who is no doubt a nymph of some far off forest.” You made a face. She simply shrugged, her shoulder length red hair bouncing a bit. “She’s nothing to me.”

Being a nymph was the furthest thing from dishonorable. They were loyal and always very beautiful. You almost cried when you realized that you would never see your overbearing nymphs again. “My mother is not a nymph.”

“I do not care for whatever minor goddess birthed you, young goddess. Not even Zeus could break this, and you’d best understand that.”

“My mother is friends with Hecate. She will make her find a way to release me, Hades.”

There was a pause in the conversation, but none of the tension faded. If anything, it only built on the silence. “How is it that you’re a god, yet I’ve never seen you?” Hades asked, a frown on her face.

“My mother keeps you far away from me because she despises you.” You spat, and you saw a flash of light behind her eyes, and she breathed out harshly. “I was never supposed to meet you.”

“The Fates have spun your destiny a different way than either of us have hoped, then.” She said, her voice rough as she looked you right in your eyes. It was then that you noticed how pale her blue eyes were, and the emotion that lacked. Her pink lips curled down all of a sudden, and then her eyes were narrowed. “Demeter, isn’t it? She’s your mother?”

You gathered all of the courage that you had left after everything that happened. The feeling of death was still intimidating, and even worse was the way Hades commanded the space with her hellhound. “Yes. And she will find me, and she will take me home.”

“This is a one way ticket until you can fix my garden, flower girl. Believe me, I don’t particularly want you here, either.” She looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the crown of flowers on your forehead and the way you had bands of them wrapped around your wrists and ankles. You were the brightest thing down there, and it was obvious that she wasn’t used to seeing things so… alive. “Your mother is just going to have to be upset.” She gave you one last look, her eyes on the dress made of fabric and flowers for a second too long to be categorized as a fleeting glance. She muttered something in a language that was foreign to you, and her unimaginably tall dog stood all the way up at attention, slightly baring its teeth at you until you forced yourself to look away from it.

And then they were gone. And you were alone. By yourself in the Land of the Dead, the one place a flower would never grow. In the one place where you could truly perish.

                                                 *******

hi guys! i really hope you guys liked this one, this idea has been like swirling around in my mind for months and i can’t get it to leave. it’s s much fun right now to write though, so i hope at least one of y’all enjoyed this lol

if you happen to like this and would like to be placed on one of my tragic tag lists, it’s a definite yes for me! thank you guys for reading this 

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School; Part 2

Part 1 can be found here

School Staff

Dire Crowley:

- The principal with them LOUD footsteps that you can hear through the hallways, especially during a test

- Lowkey got a fatty, that dump truck be bouncing whenever he walks 😳

- Has his walkie-talkie in hand and turned on 24/7 to get ready to report on some kids

- If you hear keys jiggling, you know damn well he’s coming straight towards your ass for not being in class

- Wears a dress shirt and blazer that makes him look like a mess with coffee stained pants

Divus Crewel:

- The teacher that everyone thinks is hot, both students and the staff

- Looks hella young for his age but tells himself out loud that he’s old, which worries a lot of people

- Talks about his weekend during a lesson, the students don’t care enough to listen lmao

- Allows you to turn late work in, one of the many reasons why people love him

- Wears a polo shirt that isn’t buttoned up and them air tight khakis to show off that cake 🥵

Mozus Trein:

- The old ass teacher that hates kids but refuses to quit their job 😤

- Always sus of you no matter what you’re doing, even if it’s homework or a class project

- “Sorry I can’t accept this, you know it was supposed to be due yesterday.”

- Has the coldest room in the entire school since the AC is broken so he’ll remind you to brink a jacket

- Wears white T-shirts and a long ass cardigan with a tiny flip phone as an accessory, Karen looking ass

Ashton Vargas:

- Creepy gym teacher who hits on the popular kids, sorry about that people 🤢

- “You can’t participate because you have asthma? Well I’m gonna have to see your doctor’s note.”

- Would most definitely have a beer belly, like why don’t you run bitch?

- Probably has a crush on the principal, you always see them talk before and after school

- Wears hoodies or tank tops that are soaked in his sweat and baggy joggers

Sam:

- The chill substitute teacher who puts on a movie for y’all to watch 😌

- Doesn’t really give our work unless you start to get all noisy and rowdy with each other

- If he had other jobs like being a lunch lady, the food he serves would be garbage except for the square pizzas and chicken nuggets

- As the janitor tho, he’s either good at cleaning or the complete opposite, it really depends on his mood

- Wears jumpsuits based on which job he’s working, switches outfits pretty fast too

Ramshackle

Yuu:

- Both the school’s nurse and guidance counselor who doesn’t know what they’re doing or why they’re here in the first place

- Whenever you visit the office, they’re always on their lunch break or tells you that they’re busy

- “You have a bloody nose? Let me get you an ice pack for that.”

- Re-evaluates their career choices, literally got a degree to only sit around and do nothing all day 😭

- Wears clothes that make them look professional and a child at the same time

Grim:

- The class clown who tries to be funny 🤡

- Jokes around too much to the point where he doesn’t bother paying attention to class

- Asks for your notes and never giving it back to you unless you threaten to beat him up

- Cheats off of you during a test, doesn’t care if your answers are right or wrong, he just needs to put something down before the time runs out

- I’m not going to even bother writing what he’s gonna wear, he’s a literal cat my dudes

Rival School RSA

Chenya:

- Rich Boy that’s decked in designer’s clothes, makes you wonder if they’re fake or not

- Doesn’t really brag about it, just wears them because they comfy and looks good on him

- Despite him wears designer’s, he wears the “trash” brands for clout ig 🙄🤚

- Mans is out here walking around looking like an off brand version of 6ix9ine, sorry not sorry

- “Gucci flip flops, fuck it, hit your bitch in my socks. This a big watch, diamonds drippin off of the clock.”

Neige LeBlanche:

- Rich Girl, I swear there’s a difference between the other one just hear me out 😩

- The thing is that he actually brags about his expenses, either purposely or unintentionally but it really depends on who he’s talking to

- He probably has enough money to replace anything he broke, you know this since he gets the latest iPhone every year

- Watched movies like Mean Girls, Heathers, or Clueless and ultimately wanted to be like every character, you could definitely tell lol

- Wears “good” designers like Channel with a matching handbag and perfume

Thank you such much for your love and support! Especially @i-exist2spite-god, @leonakingscholarship, and @twstsimp for their funny suggestions I used in this.

I honestly didn’t expect the first one to blow up so quickly but if you want more similar to this, I might just rearrange that, ahaha.

[stevenbasic]

"Let’s chat,” Olivia had said, after directing me to sit. She watched as I did, then smiled, and then turned to look around the room, my small office.

Olivia was a friend of my wife, new, for maybe the past year. I’d only met her a handful of times, at the house and at a couple functions. Though Sheryl always spoke highly of her, how much fun she could be, she always struck me as a bit aloof, even a bit haughty. Maybe she just doesn’t like me, I’d always found myself thinking. And here she was, in my office, looking around like she owned the place. How had she gotten involved?!? I’d figured her as a slightly strange loner of a woman, just a suburbanite friend of my wife - though apparently I’d underestimated her...

Olivia slowly began to step around the room, inspecting the texts I had in my bookshelf, running a finger up and down the spine of my PDR. Olivia was maybe a few years older than Sheryl and me, but she always looked amazing. Tall, red-headed and curvy, she must have been drop-dead gorgeous in her youth. But she’d been single her whole life, as far as I knew. Childless? Honestly, I didn’t know that much about her, only what Sheryl had told me…and I have to admit I probably hadn’t been listening.

“You have some nice old books here,” she said, casually, pulling Loewy’s Textbook of Medical Ethics from the shelf, cracking it open. Apparently she was a physician, and a PhD as well <tweak image?>. Had Sheryl ever mentioned that? I remembered chatting with her at the house a few times, when she’d come to have a glass of wine with my wife. That we both practiced medicine never came up was weird. In honesty, though, I’d probably never spoken to her more than a few minutes at a time, always being shooed away to leave the two ladies to their girl talk.

As I watched Olivia thumb through the book, my eyes did a quick up-and-down of her stunning figure. I remembered one summer day at the house, after having been dismissed by the women, going to spy on her and Sheryl from the upstairs window as they sunbathed by the pool in the backyard. My view down Olivia’s black, one-piece bathing suit had been phenomenal, and I’d found myself furtively jerking off to the sight of her big white breasts. Still semi-thick down my leg, I grabbed myself under my desk and gave myself a squeeze. Jesus her tits and ass are both big.

“So, uh, Olivia,” I began, still watching as she returned the book to its shelf, slowly turning on her heels to saunter around the room and inspect the degrees I had hanging on the wall, “You’re a physician?” Eyeing her body in her black blouse and tight, knee-length skirt, I continued to marvel at her curves, and squeezed myself again. Nnnnnff. Though she was soft with some years, good genetics and probably some time in the gym kept her in really great shape. “What speciality?”

“Oh, I was research, mostly,” she answered, reaching out with one finger to touch, possessively, my medical degree, wipe a line of dust off the top of its frame. She was not, obviously, all that keen on being too forthcoming, or even just plain friendly. Hopefully she didn’t realize I was, under my desk, slowly rubbing myself through my pants to the sight of her broad hips.

I did remember, however, now that she’d mentioned the research, something Sheryl had said, about how Olivia had made her money, a biomedical start-up years ago. But supposedly that had been in the past, and she spent her time in politics now, managing the campaign of some female candidate. If I recalled, Olivia had come from a political family, and had fallen into the role naturally.

She was now nonchalantly looking through a pile of file folders I had on a cabinet. So, I found myself thinking, even as my dick grew harder for her, if she’d never really practiced, clinically, and had been away from medicine for this long, what on god’s green earth qualified her to be our ‘Clinical Director’??

“So, Olivia,” I found myself asking, thinking I was lightening the mood, boldly cracking some ice, “are you my boss now?”

Her bluntness shocked me.

“Yes in fact I am,” she said, plainly, turning now to face me, “Sheryl and I both are.” The light from my window caught her eyes, reminding me of how it had done the same to Melissa’s just a few minutes earlier. Olivia’s green eyes, though, seemed to absorb the sun into themselves, like magic, glittering gems. It intensified her gaze, pulling me in with a sudden intimacy that grabbed me by the loins. “We are your superiors.”

<gulp>

Abruptly cowed, I let go of my now-throbbing erection, afraid that I might erupt in my slacks. I tried to find words, thinking I should say something in defense, something snarky to assert myself, but my voice was caught in my chest.

“Melissa will handle administration, I’ll guide the clinical staff,” Olivia continued in explanation, seeing I’d been properly unnerved and releasing me from her gaze. She began to stroll towards my desk, again, looking at the anatomy chart I had hanging on the opposite wall. “The MA’s, the nurses and clinicians, they’ll all report to me. You included.” I was thankful, again, that I wasn’t standing. She’d be so much taller than me. Wait what?!?

So I, apparently, was now to be just another clinician? This couldn’t stand!  ”What will I do?” I asked, speaking too quickly, hearing the petulance in my own voice, “What will be my title?”

Olivia fought back a satisfied smile and answered me as she approached the chair in front of my desk. “Oh, you’re still a partial owner,” she said, now trying to reassure me of my continued significance, as diminished as it was, “but a title? You want a title?” She sat down, now, across the desk from me, and thought. “Hm,” she decided, “You can be ‘Lead Clinical Physician’. Will that work?”

”I’m the ONLY physician!” I blurted.

To that, Olivia laughed. Tolerantly, she continued. ”How about you just be you?” she offered, with a smile meant to placate me, a glimmer in her eyes that once again reminded me of Melissa, “You worry about seeing patients, you make sure you do what you need for the Evolution study.” Obviously she knew that I was upset, that I’d felt belittled and sidelined. She sat up straight, and went on seeking to soothe me. “You'll have plenty of help,” she said, “I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly here, that patients are getting the care they need.”

Speechless, I felt humiliated. Cast aside, all but mothballed. And, lest we forget, by women.

“Oh, c’mon,” Olivia laughed, reaching her left hand across the desk, laying it palm-down in front of me, “Yes, I’ll be your Clinical Director, but it’s just a title. You all know what you’re doing.” She had her eyes on me; I looked down at her hand, the emerald she wore on her ring finger. It was striking. “I won’t even be here most days,” she assured me, “I’m so busy with the election. You’ll barely see me.”

Feeling a wave of sadness overtake me, washing away whatever ire I’d still held, I continued to look down at her ring, her large, well-manicured nails. What did she want, with her hand there? For me to hold it? Maybe I should…

She waited for me to speak, to say something. Saying anything, though, to me seemed like I would be acknowledging the facts, as would taking her hand. Inaction, passivity, was easier. It could be a silent signal that I was unhappy with the new changes.

I heard her draw a deep breath, let it out in frustration.

”Okay, fine,” she huffed, a new edge in her voice, “What is it? Do you feel emasculated? Hm? Is that it?”

I looked up at her in shock, feeling my lip quivering.

“Good, you deserve it,” she said plainly, continuing, sitting back and straightening her shoulders, “After the way you made Sheryl feel all these years, with the affairs, you should feel emasculated. What sort of man does that, acts like that? So childish…” Her green, gleaming eyes were spitting poison, now, in obvious solidarity with her friend, my wife. I had to look down, back at her hand, the stone in her emerald ring.

“My god, after all she’s done for you?” she continued, unrelenting, “She’s supported you from the beginning, built you this nice, comfortable life while she worked ten times as hard as you. Even in the face of all the other women, the girls you fell to through the years, she’d had faith in you, that you could change.”

I squirmed in humiliation, knowing she was speaking the truth, but disbelieving it myself. How had I done this, let myself become this person? And, Jesus, how could I still be getting harder?! What the fuck is wrong with me?!? The green jewel on her finger glittered back, but gave me no answer.

“Well, you’ve proven it, you've proven you can’t change,” she spat, “So we’re going to change everything around you, change ourselves.”

I was shaking, under her diatribes, defenseless. I felt the strength in her voice, the conviction. Olivia was determined, had become a powerful person through her talents and hard work. I felt like a worm.

“Yes, we’re all working to improve ourselves, while you just do…nothing,” she said, “We’re getting better, smarter, stronger. You’re going to have to just sit there and watch while we all grow around you.”

My breath was coming fast, I was trying to keep myself from groaning or, good god, whining. My cock continued to harden, throbbing against my thigh. Goddamnit why didn’t I jerk off this morning?? I still stared at her hand because I was afraid if I looked up at her face or god help me her tits I would come right there, explode into my pants.

She had paused.

“Are you looking at my ring?” she asked, her voice softer now. Laid out on the desk between us, her hand flexed, long fingers straightening to show off her jewel. “It was my mother’s, she wanted me to have it,” she told me, as I looked at it, admiring it’s rich green beauty. It really was impressive. “It matches my necklace.”

At that, my eyes were finally drawn up, away from her left hand as her right had come to her chest, the neckline of her blouse. I watched as she undid a single button and revealed inches of white, creamy cleavage and a necklace with a green, matching stone. The jewel was huge, spherical, the size of a human eye, nestled just above her big breasts. I tried my best to keep my eyes on it and not let them fall into her cleavage, but couldn’t fight what felt like an unseen force secretly moving my hand back to grab my cock through my pants. I was speechless, though I heard myself emit a little moan of admiration.

“What's wrong?” Olivia asked, an amused interest in her voice, “You like looking at my necklace?”

“It’s…” I began, gazing at the green stone, seeing how it, like her eyes, seemed to capture the light in the room, “…it’s beautiful.” It seemed to gaze back at me, from right above the deep valley of her soft, inviting cleavage.

“Thank you,” she purred. She stretched her arm out closer to me, turning her hand over on the desk in front of me. “Now, take my hand,” she said, a new, patient charity in her voice.

“w-what..?” I managed.

“Take my hand,” she repeated, and I watched my own free left hand place itself in hers, my right hand still covertly wrapped around my shaft, intermittently squeezing it, stroking it, pressing it into my thigh.

“And now, back at my necklace,” she directed, with composed sympathy.

“o-o-Olivia..?” I peeped. My eyes were now up at hers, pleadingly, but as she drew a deep breath I couldn’t do anything but drop my gaze back down to her chest. The green stone had dropped a fraction and now lay just between the uppermost swells of her breasts. It had captured my eyes with its own. “oh, god…” I heard myself say.

“shhhh…” she whispered, indulgently, “C’mon. This shouldn’t be a surprise.” Her chest began to rise and fall with slow, purposeful breaths, the bulges of her breasts swelling to  embrace the green jewel, and then fall away again. “We’ve surrounded you with eye candy so far, and here I am. Another tall, bosomy woman in the office for you. So…just enjoy.” Another deep breath, breasts enveloping the stone, and then dropping away. I’d begun to slowly stroke myself under the desk, and didn’t have the force of will to stop. “It’s been nice, hm? Having all these girls?” she continued, allowing herself a girlish giggle, “And I’d always noticed the way you look at me when I’ve come to see Sheryl. I knew you were a physician, a smart, respected guy. But it made me think of you as so…”

Another deep breath, and the stone all but disappeared.

“…small.”

I fucking whined.

Olivia smiled. “But that can be all water under the bridge,” she offered, her voice warming generously, “I think you and I can have a nice, professional relationship. Between Melissa and I we’ll make sure you’ll be well taken care of, by all your women.”

Somehow, I was able to tear my eyes up off her chest. “n-no…Olivia…that’s n-“

“What? Isn’t that every man’s dream?” she asked, doing something with her free right hand, some movement, “To be surrounded by a harem of young, beautiful women, doing everything, taking care of all the details?”

“n-no..but, y-…yes but…” I floundered, as a quick something changed in the air. I looked down, to my left, and on the desk was a piece of paper. Had that been there before? The whole time? Melissa must have left it.

I looked down at it, even as I still brainlessly rubbed my cock. It was a short statement, something for me to sign. It was on our company letterhead. I read the first few sentences in a fog, my mind really only realizing the purpose of the agreement when I reached the final phrase:

“…cedes all authority to and acknowledges the authority of Olivia M. Henders, MD as Clinical Director of Far Horizons Medical Associates.”

Her left hand had left mine; her right was handing me a pen.

“We’re going to ask you to step back from your responsibilities at the hospital as well,” Olivia explained, trying to hide the satisfaction in her voice as I mindlessly signed the paper, “Vida can handle your rounds, she and Morgan and Karen can take over your admitting privileges.”

“w-what..?” I asked, weakly protesting though I barely understood what she was telling me, more focused now on my hand rubbing away at my cock.

“After what happened this week, yesterday,” she continued, taking the pen from my hand, “the new Chief Medical Officer at the hospital called us. She suggested the leave of absence.” She took the paper, inspected my signature. “Until you get your health back under control.”

I’d heard about her, the new woman at xxx. I’d known her for years as a physician. She’d risen in the ranks, administratively, finally landing the top job and had already removed some of the old-time guys from the hospital staff. So now it was no surprise she wanted me gone, too.  But..if I didn’t have hospital privileges…?

“b-but…no…” <stroke stroke stroke> Jesus I just need to fucking come

“It’s a done deal already,” Olivia said, looking down at the mug of warm milk Melissa had made for me, “the board of directors has spoken. It’s what we want.”

“w-we…?” <stroke stroke stroke> oh god don’t tell me.

“Yes, it’s so exciting,” she said, eyes back now watching mine, which had fallen again to her bosom and its green stone, “the first all-female hospital board in the state. Including myself…and Sheryl.”

Suddenly, it all became clear. This was Sheryl’s idea.

Shit. <stroke stroke stroke><faster faster faster>

“She sends her best, by the way,” Olivia smiled as she watched me. Did she see my eyes flutter, as my climax began to grab me? If she knew what was going on below the table, only a slight curl to her lips gave it away. “You really should sign those divorce papers…”

She pushed my mug towards me, as I exploded in my pants.

“…and drink your milk.”

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

Many thanks to my brother-in-arms TopographicSociety for his help with the image, giving Olivia her necklace.

[bespokeredmayne]

Headliners

Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club stars Eddie Redmayne + Jessie Buckley are featured in the Sunday Times Culture section in this article by Kirsty Lang, with fresh insights about the paths that led them to the phenomenal new production.

Eddie Redmayne has a dilemma. His children, aged three and five, are desperate to come and see him on stage in a new production of Cabaret. He has been playing the music nonstop at home and they’ve even learnt the moves to the song Money Makes the World Go Round. “They enjoyed Frozen, so they think it’s going to be like that,” he says, chuckling “Their favourite number is Don’t Tell Mama, but they have no idea what it’s about.” The jaunty tunes belie the fact Cabaret is probably one of the darkest musicals ever written. Set in Weimar Germany as the Nazis begin their ascent to power, there’s violence, antisemitism and the leading lady, Sally Bowles —who can’t tell her Mama she’s appearing on stage in her underwear — has an abortion. It’s not one for the kids.

It’s 11 years since Redmayne last appeared on stage. But it isn’t the first time the Oscar-winning actor has played the role of the androgynous ringmaster in Cabaret. Aged 17 he was cast as the Emcee in a school production at Eton that was later taken to the Edinburgh Fringe. He remembers “running up the Royal Mile in latex and tights handing out leaflets for the show”. It was in a brand-new venue, the Underbelly, set up by two fellow Old Etonians, Ed Bartlam and Charlie Wood. Back then it consisted of a few cramped, damp, beer-stained performance spaces frequented by aspiring comics and student musicals. Now the Underbelly is a successful production company that hosts festivals in London and Edinburgh. Redmayne’s early performance must have made an impression on the two producers because many years later they contacted him to see if he fancied doing Cabaret again. The answer was yes.

Redmayne is now 39 but looks about 23, with a fresh, freckled complexion and a boyish enthusiasm. I meet him in a hotel café opposite the Playhouse Theatre in London’s West End. He is with his co-star, the Irish actress Jessie Buckley (Wild Rose, Chernobyl), who plays Sally Bowles, the “divinely decadent” cabaret singer who arrives in Berlin in search of adventure. Buckley was Redmayne’s choice for the role. He didn’t know her, but he’d seen her act and sing and thought she had the right combination of grit and youthful vulnerability required to play Sally. “I thought you were formidable,” he says to her across the café table. The actress sticks her fingers in her mouth and mimes vomiting. Buckley came to fame aged 17 as a contestant on the TV talent show to find a new Nancy for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s production of Oliver! She came second but has never looked back. Much to her embarrassment, Redmayne tells me how he watched the whole series of I’d Do Anything and loved it. His only other West End musical appearance until Cabaret was playing “fourth workhouse boy” in a production of Oliver! aged 11.

Going to a boys’ school meant that Redmayne was cast in female roles from an early age. His first lead at Eton was playing Adela Quested in a stage version of A Passage to India and his first professional role was Viola in an all-male production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night opposite Mark Rylance. Meanwhile Buckley was at an all-girls school and was always given male roles: “I played Tony in West Side Story and God in Children of Eden.”

It has taken about six years to get Cabaret off the ground, partly because both actors are so in demand. Redmayne has just finished shooting the latest instalment of JK Rowling’s Fantastic Beasts franchise and before that The Good Nurse, the true story of Charlie Cullen, a nurse who was one of the most prolific serial killers in history. By coincidence Buckley was in the US at the same time playing a similar role in the TV drama Fargo. “Yeah,” Buckley says, grinning, “we bonded over playing psychotic serial killer nurses.” She’s also appearing opposite Olivia Colman in Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Lost Daughter, a film based on an Elena Ferrante novel.

Given how busy they are, both actors have been unusually involved in the early stages of Cabaret. They chose the director Rebecca Frecknall, having seen her acclaimed production of Tennessee Williams’s Summer and Smoke and describe how they originally wanted to stage it in a basement in Islington rather than a traditional theatre. “We wanted the atmosphere of a Berlin nightclub rave at 2am,” Redmayne explains. In the end they could not get that venue, but the Ambassador Theatre Group, which owns the Playhouse, agreed to transform the Victorian theatre into a Weimar-era cabaret club at considerable cost.

We meet on the day of the dress rehearsal. Both confess to anxiety and sleepless nights as the opening looms. They’re going to be performing in the round, appearing on and off stage through a rabbit warren of entrances and exits. “I lie in bed going through the different routes in my head,” says Redmayne, who is worried about taking the wrong turning and popping up somewhere he shouldn’t be. “Sounds like the story of my life,” Buckley quips. Redmayne says there are recordings of Judi Dench reciting poetry in the hotel lavatories. “I’m going to pop over here every night before the performance, sit on the loo and listen to Judi, because that’s calming.”

I can see why he’s anxious when I’m taken on a tour by the designer, Tom Scutt. The place is buzzing with carpenters, painters and musicians tuning up their instruments. A floor has been built over the stalls, levelling up the once cavernous auditorium and shrinking it into the intimate Kit Kat Club of the musical, which reduces seat capacity from 832 to 590.

There’s a small round stage bisecting the proscenium arch with seats on every side. The first few rows are café tables, so the audience, performers and musicians share the same intimate space. Tickets start at £30 and table seats are £120, with food and drink packages that can go up to £325 in total for a gourmet deal. There’s also a daily £25 lottery for seats that include table seating.

The audience will enter down a narrow staircase to the side of the theatre, with old pipes overhead and concrete walls dimly lit in a magenta red. Before they get to the auditorium they will be guided through a series of winding corridors covered in beaded metallic fringing with small performance nooks for musicians and dancers. “There will be music as soon as you come in, so it will feel like you’re going into a nightclub,” Scutt says. “It’s immersive without being a Punchdrunk or Secret Cinema show. We wanted an atmospheric prelude with the audience entering through a dingy corridor while being entertained by the musicians and dancers.”

The theatre walls have been repainted in dark colours, and a flashing-eye logo appears throughout to “convey the idea of voyeurism and paranoia; a Seventies and Eighties Berlin feel”. The cast and crew set up a WhatsApp group to share images and ideas. These included clips from Fassbinder films and videos of Annie Lennox and the avant-garde 1930s choreographer Mary Wigman.

I ask Redmayne how he sees his character, the mercurial Emcee. “I see him as a survivor who can shape-shift himself out of every situation. There are elements of Karl Valentin [the Charlie Chaplin of Weimar Germany] and there is this extraordinary maître d’ at the Sunset Towers in Los Angeles called Dimitri. I’ve put a bit of him into the mix.”

The script of Cabaret doesn’t put a label on the Emcee, but the character is often played by LGBT actors, so Redmayne’s casting has come in for criticism. “Of all the characters I’ve ever read, this one defies pigeonholing. I would ask people to come and see it before casting judgment,” he says firmly. This is a sensitive conversation for Redmayne. He came in for considerable flak for his Oscar-nominated role in The Danish Girl, based on the true story of the first person to undergo gender reassignment surgery.

His critics believed the role should be played by a trans actor. Would he take it if he was offered it today? “No, I wouldn’t take it on now. I made that film with the best intentions, but I think it was a mistake.” I point out that it probably would not have been made without him. The script had been around for years and was only greenlit when Redmayne was cast off the back of winning an Oscar for his portrayal of the disabled scientist Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything. His reply is thoughtful and diplomatic. “The bigger discussion about the frustrations around casting is because many people don’t have a chair at the table. There must be a levelling, otherwise we are going to carry on having these debates.”

Buckley interrupts to say: “This is the most diverse company I have ever worked in. On the first day everyone introduced themselves and said their pronouns, he, she, they . . . and it was lovely to be part of that conversation. Our Kit Kat Club welcomes everyone, whoever you are.”

Redmayne says that one of the joys of doing Cabaret has been learning about the Weimar period, when hedonism, gender fluidity and sexual liberation coexisted with the rise of populism, intolerance and hyperinflation in a Europe still traumatised by the catastrophe of the First World War. It was a highly polarised society. The Austrian writer Stefan Zweig wrote that “Berlin was the Babel of the world […]where hundreds of men in women’s clothes and women in men’s clothes danced under the benevolent eyes of the police”. Do they see any parallels with now? “Absolutely,” Buckley says, “and this production draws on elements from then and now. Many of the themes are timeless.”

(Eddie is groomed here by the talented @petransellge; photos by @jasonhetheringtonstudio).

[hypergamygimme]

SATURDAY NIGHT STORY TIME:

-At this point I’ve stopped counting my post bbl weeks but one I look at my calendar I will get it together lol. So much has been going on in my life that it’s hard to keep up with dates.

My friend and I went out for tapas, drinks, and of course some dancing last Saturday night. For me a night on the town wouldn’t be right without a little boogie down. My friend is beautiful! Physically she is the complete opposite of me. She is dark skinned, taller than me (I’m 5’4), and slim. She gives off young Naomi Campbell vibes. Gorgeous!

While we were at the bar chatting it up , a guy approached us and literally just started rambling on . It was obvious that he was both excited and a little tipsy, but it’s Saturday.. aren’t we all! He was handsome , tall, looked fit, and was black American. He immediately began to ask us what we do for a living. This is one of my biggest pet peeves. Before a conversation even starts the guy is asking where we work and what we do for a living. We never asked him so why ask us? Though he went on ahead and told us what he did for a living as if he were bragging. He did technology for hospitals so things like EPIC. Then he went on to us that he started his own trucking company and how much his new contract was with a major company. At that point I zoned out because he was telling us the amount of money the contract held. My thing is , dont talk about money unless you plan on giving me some.

He let us know that they were going out later and would love for us to join. I didn’t have an issue with it because we were going out too. Moments later his friend came over to us in hopes of also starting conversation. Now his friend... was clearly drunk there was no denying that. Also attractive, tall, and black American. After two glasses of water at the bar he proceeded to ask us what we did and how we made a living 🥴.. here we go the hound down again!! Usually we lie but he was already boozed up we went ahead and told him the truth. I let him know I was a recent graduate working as a supervisor for a healthcare company now about to Piraeus BS nursing and my friend a PhD candidate and an intern for NASA. He looked at us and said, “oh yeah it’s fine to come home.” My girlfriend and I thought it was a NASA/spaceship reference , but no. He explained that he had been dating latinas and white women and now it’s time to come back to date blank women! The audacity! We simply looked at each other, looked at him and LAUGHED “NO PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” 😂😂

The guy actually turned out to be cool, energetic, and funny. I sonned him for the rest of the night and made him responsible for all of our drinks for the night, in which he was completely fine with. We went to the next spot and the whole way there “my little son” was digging out other races of women. Asian, latinas (not a race) , and white women. He literally aired out some secrets and threw them under the bus. The old me would have joined in with him but the new me had no need. What any other race of woman or even my race of woman does it NOT my business. My business is what I do and the women directly in my circle do. When we got to the next hip spot the first guy was waiting on us with a table and more people. What I didn’t notice was that he himself had two women with him. I noticed one of the girls looking my friend uppan dan (up and down) lol. I let it slide but when I tried to sit down and start ordering Monroe food and drinks that the men were carelessly offering the other girl grabbed the chair and blocked me off. At this point I felt the vibes so I went to the lady’s room with my girlfriend to shake off some steam and freshen up. “My son” for us our own separate table because he started to feel the vibes too, though he claimed that he didn’t know girls.

We sat down and ate our dinner while listening to the DJ kill it! My friend was smoking her hookah and I was enjoying my drinks . I turned to speak to the waitress and one of the young ladies approached my girlfriend and started to whisper in her ear, then walked off. I didn’t think much about it because she wasn’t important to me. When we were finished eating I let them know it was time to dance now! A night for me is not complete until I hear some Afrobeats. We disappeared and it was on to the next spot. En route my friend told me, “ I didn’t want to tell you this in the restaurant because I didn’t want you to react, but that girl came up to me and started talking sh-t. She told me that the guys are with them and they are leaving with them and not us. She pointed in your directions and told that they didn’t like you at all.” 🥴🥴🥴😂😂 huh!!?!? I swear I have never seen these girls in my life! I’m so glad my girlfriend waited to tell me because I always waited to tell her how the girl was staring her down when she was reaching for the menu! Lol can you believe the audacity!!! I looked in the back seat to “my son” and told him I don’t date black American men so he can tell those ugly hearted girls they had NOTHING to worry about!

That’s not even half of what happened that night! We ended up at an African club with drinks galore, dancing , and then ended up in someone’s mansion in which there was a stripper party! Like I can’t make this sh-t up! 😂😂 anyways..how can women hate so hard and be so vicious when they don’t even know you! I’m not even the type to keep a stank face or resting B face! If you see me I’m smiling, I’m grooving, and laughing ! Women can be so catty when a beautiful woman is around. My friend is gorgeous but I’ll go ahead and admit that this new body had A LOT to do with the events that happened that night. It’s been like this every weekend. This body is not giving me peace, just attention and problems! And I love it!! Has this ever happened to you?

Should I tell more Saturday story times or leave it to the professionals?

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

oh my bad, i didn’t see you didnt write for atsumu or sakusa. can you do the same headcanons (s/o who’s smol and fragile) but with kuroo, bokuto, and oikawa? if possible, i would still like to see these headcanons with atsumu and sakusa <333

hey hey hey anon!! ty for the requests :)

I think this is such a cute idea (´♡‿♡`)

I just started watching S4 soo I'll save your other request for atsumu and sakusa in my inbox and get to that once I'm done!!

in the meantime, I hope you enjoy some of my favorite captains <3

btw sorry it’s definitely not my best, I was having major writers block so this is basically all I could manage :(

•Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa w/ a Small and Fragile S/O•

warnings: none

genre: fluff

characters: kuroo, bokuto, + oikawa

•Kuroo•

Kuroo had teased you about your height ever since the two of you had become friends

it was his way of playful flirting, harmless really

“Ah, hey there chibi-chan, still need help with that chem assignment.”

“I thought I told you to quit calling me that.”

“Aw, but it suits you.”

It was all harmless until he began to actually fall for you 

the way your laugher erupted through the air at one of his stupid chemistry jokes or how you would never fail to flash a pretty smile and throw him a wave whenever you two were near

every single thing about you drew him in and he just had to make you his, so that’s exactly what he did you said yes obviously

even though he spent quite a bit of time with you before making things official, he never realized how prone to injury you were

seriously you got hurt so often it was crazy

at first he thought it was just bad luck until he noticed that you collided with the majority of things that were in your path

it was actually quite entertaining to him a lot of the time, but even if he let out a chuckle he would always take care of you

didn't matter if it was him grabbing the first aid kit from the gym or keeping you company in the nurses office while you got checked out

as much as he loved to tease you for everything, he was always right by your side 

even though he put on a calm and collected front, he got worried every time you got hurt

it didn’t matter how minor or major the injury was, he just wanted to make sure you were okay

he was always making sure you were taking care of yourself too

making sure you ate and drank water and took care of your injuries when needed

sometimes he’d even tease you by buying you a carton of milk and claiming that you needed it for bone growth

he definitely could be a huge pain sometimes, but it always brought a smile to your face

with your height differences, his favorite thing was to pick you up by your waist, hold you up high, and spin you around

he didn’t care who was watching, all that he was focused on in that moment was the lovely smile stitched on your face

he loved to lean down when you were standing around or talking with someone and rest his chin on your head and wrap his arms lightly around your neck

this was especially common when he noticed someone else trying to flirt with you, a piercing gaze followed as well in these situations

if anyone tried to tease you about your height he would pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and run the opposite direction hey problem solved

as much as he teased you himself, he was always making sure to let you know how much he loved you just the way you were

he always eased you insecurities and whispered compliment after compliment in your ear when you were down

he was your #1 hype man no matter the time

he truly saw you as perfect and he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life letting you know

•Bokuto•

when you and bokuto first met, he was very upfront about your height

"HEY HEY HEY! Wow, you're super tiny!”

cue your pouting

bokuto noticed your change of expression and quickly saved himself

“OH! No no, not in a bad way, like a cute way, you know? Tiny and squishy!”

cue him pinching your cheeks like an old lady

Akaashi ended up dragging him back to practice but not before he turned your cheeks bright red, from the excessive pinching and his comments

after that incident, you saw bokuto a lot more

usually due to you bumping into him in between classes

you didn’t mean to but he was just so tall and you were just so clumsy

those situations usually ended with you both apologizing profusely to each other while bokuto walked you to the nurses office

overtime, you two grew closer and closer and eventually made things official 

despite all the energy he had, he was always very gentle with you

he knew he could get a little much at times and with how easily you got injured he wanted to make sure he was never the one causing you pain

his touch was always very soft and loving, allowing you to feel just how much he cared

since you would get hurt so often he would always carry bandaids in his school bag they had little hearts on them

he would drop anything he was doing and sit you down to place a bandaid and a kiss wherever the damage was

“There you go, Dr. Bokuto is always at your service Y/N.”

“Thank you Bo.”

if it was something more intense he would walk you to the nurse’s office, hair drooping and tears in his eyes

he honestly hated seeing you hurt or in pain

if he could, he would take away any and all of your discomfort

he just wanted to see you smiling, that was his favorite look on you

no matter how much you would tell him you were okay he still would not leave your side until you got fully cleared by the nurse and the rest of the day he would be clinging to you with a pout stitched on his face

he adored the height difference between you two

your small hand fit perfectly in his and the was your tiny figure molded into his when you two cuddled felt right

he knew that sometimes you could get a little insecure

he never really understood why you couldn't see yourself how he saw you but that didn't prevent him from bring you up and letting you know exactly how he saw you

he truly saw you as the most flawless person he’s ever seen

compliments were always followed up by a lot of hugs and kisses

he always felt like you deserved to feel like you were on top of the world so giving you piggy back rides or letting you sit on his shoulders was his favorite thing to do

he never missed the laughter that escaped your lips when he would pick up speed definitely his favorite sound ever

his main goal was to protect you from anything and everything and make sure you were loved

and he succeeded with that each and every day

•Oikawa•

oikawa had had a thing for you since middle school

you never really thought much of the way he would act towards you due to his high popularity

honestly, you just thought he was being polite

that was until he asked you out your first year of high school

ever since then you became aoba johsai’s power couple

you didn't really care about titles though, all that mattered was that you and oikawa were happy

and contrary to popular belief, oikawa was a really great boyfriend

he never failed to make you feel appreciated and cherished

he honestly just couldn’t believe he was with someone so perfect, and honestly the blush that spread across your cheeks was just too cute to pass up

this didn't excuse you from oikawa’s teasing, your height being a main target

“Y/N-chan, mind if I rest my arm here, it’s so tired from practice”

“Tooru, get your gross, sweaty arm off my head.”

“Ahh so mean baby.”

although he never missed the opportunity to rile you up about you height, he always recognized when to stop and followed it up with a bunch of compliments

he knew it could be an insecurity of your sometimes and he would never dream of making you feel less then perfect

if any of his fan girls tried to mention something involving your height, he didn’t hesitate to confront them

occasionally going the extra mile and pulling you into a loving kiss right in front of them

he didn’t care if they stopped supporting him, he had you by his side and that was more then enough 

although you usually got hurt quite often, that all stopped when you started dating oikawa

you honestly couldn’t believe it at first

all the scratches, scars, and bruises that frequently littered your body and slowly healed over time and no new ones took their place

you could not wrap your head around how he managed to do it

he was very observant and almost had this sixth sense when it came to you and your injuries

usually catching you before you fell, pulling you out of the way of something, or grabbing something and moving it away before it could cause you harm

you were practically like a small child he had to watch

he always followed up his smooth movements with a flirty remark

“Ah ah ah, you have to be more careful Y/N-chan, I'm the only one you should be falling for.”

although he loved spending any moment with you, his favorite memories had to be watching you in the stands during one of his games, cheering for him

his jersey was so big on you, he found it so adorable it always smelled like you when you returned it which was a huge plus

his favorite thing to do during games was throw you a wink before each serve he did, watching you laugh and wink right back

he always played his best when you were there

watching you from the court made him fall in love with you all over again

you were his world and he would make it his top priority to remind you of that each and every day

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 1

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Car accident, angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

A line ringing over your headset notifies you another emergency call is coming in. You cleared your head, preparing for anything, and clicked the spacebar, answering it, “911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Bro, that was insane,” the male voice said over the phone. “You’re gonna be famous on YouTube.” 

“Excuse me, sir? What seems to be the problem?” you asked, letting out a sigh. 

“My friend is having trouble breathing, and his throat feels like it’s on fire.”

“What’s the address?”

“576 Rose Lane in Westwood.” 

You typed the address into your computer, signaling the nearest available unit to the caller's location. “First responders are on their way. Can you tell me what he was doing before this happened?”

“We were doing the cinnamon challenge.” You rolled your eyes. “I thought it was harmless. Then, he was gagging, and then he coughed, and a puff of cinnamon came out of his nose. It was awesome; he looked like a dragon.” It's been a while since you got a call about an internet challenge gone wrong, but it's been forever since you got a cinnamon challenge one. You didn't even know that challenge was still around.  “Oh fuck!”

“Is everything okay? What happened?” 

“He collapsed. He’s not moving. Should I shake him awake?”

“He probably passed out, but paramedics are only a few minutes away. Is he still breathing?”

“I don’t think so,” he panicked.

“Remember to stay calm, I’ll help you through this the best I can, okay? Okay, now I am going to have to ask you to administer CPR. Do you know what to do?” 

“Sort of. I learned it in health class a few years ago.”

“Perfect. It's 30 chest compressions followed by two breaths going to the rhythm of the song Staying Alive. You can do this.”

“Ok---okay. Yeah. Right, right,” he mumbled. Hearing him set the phone down on the ground, he started counting and doing chest compressions.

The responding unit was about a block away, and once they arrived, you could hear the sirens coming through the phone call.

“Odinson, take over compressions,” a lady’s voice commanded. “Kid, come with me.”

“Is he going to be...” the line went dead as he hung up his phone.  

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. This wasn’t anything new; when help arrives, people hang up, and you don’t get to know how it ends, but maybe it was for the best. You sit back up, seeing your reflection in one of the many screens in front of you. At least, you knew most of the firefighters from Station 107 at the scene, including your brother Thor, if you ever wanted to know how it ended.

It's tough, taking call after call, emergency after emergency with little to no recovery time in between. It’s a stressful job that is emotionally and physically taxing. It requires extreme focus, patience, and puts you under a certain kind of pressure. The pressure of wanting to help and do everything you possibly can when this person you never met puts their life in your hands. You never know what the outcome will be, but you try to help them get through what might be the scariest moment in their life. It’s those calls, the ones you were able to save, that keep you coming back to work.

You stepped away from your command center and headed towards the kitchenette, spotting Luis rummaging through the fridge. It wasn’t unusual, but it did always bring a smile to your face. It was hard to believe he was one of the dispatchers who showed you the ropes after relocating to Los Angeles three months ago. 

“Hey, Luis.” He turned around with a doughnut in his mouth, quickly removing it and shooting you a carefree smile.  

“Hey, Chica, get any weird calls yet? You know I love hearing about those weird ones, right.” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but a guy called earlier saying his whole body hurt everywhere he poked. I told him to drive to the emergency room and get his finger looked at because it’s probably broken. Oh, and there was another cinnamon challenge victim.”

“Another one, I thought that craze was over.” He shook his head. “But I did hear about this crazy call that came in last night, right. It wasn’t so much crazy, but one of those nuisance calls, you know what I’m saying, the kind where you’re like, ‘why are you calling, this isn’t an emergency type of situation?’ Anyways, Cameron Klein took the call; you know the dude with the great hair, the kind you just want to run your hands through. It has the perfect fluff to curl ratio. I mean, I touched it once, and it was like a cloud. I asked him what products he used in his hair, and he was like…” 

“Luis, how does this relate to the call?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, sorry, sorry, so there was this lady caller, right. She was telling Great Hair how she couldn't leave her car because there was a hostile raccoon outside her door. So then, Great Hair was like why don’t you go out a different door. And this caller says ‘yo I tried, but it’s like this trash panda can read my mind, right. He follows me when I move to the other side, and he’s like crazy, stupid fast like a rocket.’ And here comes the best part, Great Hair was like, ‘Hey girl, you better run fast then,’ and hung up,” he beamed with a slight chuckle.

“Oh my god, people really need to learn what an emergency is,” you chuckled, shaking your head. 

“You know that’s right, but duty calls.” He tilted his head towards the door, carrying two doughnuts and a huge mug full of coffee. 

“Later, Luis.”

Years ago, you never would have imagined you would be working as a dispatcher in Los Angeles. You preferred helping people hands-on, which is why you became an ER nurse. It was the feeling of never knowing what was going to come charging through those doors next that excited you. But being a dispatcher gave you a whole different kind of thrill because you could only use your voice to help.

The rest of your shift flew by until you were on hour eight of your ten-hour shift. A pileup involving a semi jackknifing on the highway forced a huge collision of cars. All the units in the area along with a few on the outskirts came in to assist. It was the same call coming in multiple times, and all you could say was help was already on the way.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Send help,” the woman cried, telling you her address.

“Ma’am, I am going to need you to tell me what is going on?”

“A power line…a power line fell into our pool, and my daughter is trapped on her unicorn floaty in the water. I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay calm, ma’am. My name is YN, and I’m dispatching a unit to your home now.” You switched lines to the highway accident, getting on a line with Captain Danvers from Station 107, who was sending three individuals to the scene right away. You switched back to the caller. “Okay, I will need you to stay calm. What is your daughter’s name?”

“Morgan, she’s five years old.”

“Please, whatever you do, make sure Morgan stays on the floaty because it is protecting her from the water. There is a good chance the power line is sending more than 5000 volts through the water.”

“Okay, okay, I can do that, “ the mother breathed. “Honey, please stay on the tube.”

“I'm going to try to get in contact with the power company to turn it off.” You looked up the power company in the area, and someone slid next to you. You glance over, seeing Bruce get to work on calling the power company. You nodded at him, staying on the line with the mom. “Ma’am, has help arrived yet?”

“No, but I can hear the sirens.” You peeked at Bruce, but he shook his head, still trying to get a hold of the power company. “They are coming through the back gate now.”

“Ma’am, can you hand the phone to one of the firemen?” You bit your lip, studying the layout of their home on one of your monitors. There were flowers all over their backyard, and you got an idea. 

“Hello, this is Fireman Rogers.”

“Hi, Fireman Rogers. This is 9-1-1 dispatcher, YN, how is it looking there?”

“Well, on the drive-in, we saw that a truck hit the power line pole, which caused the pole to fall into the pool. The driver isn’t in any serious condition, but one of our EMT’s is looking him over,” he informed in a deep voice. “Then, we have a pool vibrating with energy, but I assume you already know that part.”

“Do you have a plan in place? We are still trying to get a hold of the power company.”

“There are a few more floaties by the pool. I could ride one over to Morgan and pull her to safety?”

“Really? Where did you get that from the macho man handbook?”

“I don’t think that book exists, YN,” he added, making you scoff.

“I may have an idea.” You narrowed your eyes, playing out the idea in your head. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“I can view the whole home on one of my monitors, and there are a ton of flowers. So, I can only assume a garden hose must be nearby.”

“Yup, I see it.”

“Okay, perfect. Grab the hose and cut off the metal ends; it's rubber, so it won't conduct electricity. Then, have you and another fireman take the hose and walk along the opposite sides of the pool. Have Morgan grab ahold of it and carefully pull her back to the edge."

“That’s genius, YN. Thanks for your help,” he acknowledged, making you crack a side smile. Few people said thank you in this job, but when they did, you appreciated it. “Here’s your phone back, ma’am.”

Morgan’s mother's breath was shaky and staggered through the phone. She was scared and had every right to be. If you were in that situation, you would be, too. “Oh my god, it’s working. It’s working,” the mother shouted into your ear. “Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?”

“I am okay, Mommy,” Morgan replied before the phone line went dead.

You smiled at yourself in one of the now blank screens. It was these moments why you loved what you were doing; a happy ending. Some calls never get a happy ending, but when they do, those are the ones you try to remember when a stressful call comes in.

________

AN: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There is a long way to go and I promise things will definitely get more interesting. This was just a quick intro to some of the many characters that will make an appearance/cameo. Comments always welcome! Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll stick with me!