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justanamesstuff · 2 years

Text

All I Need

Chapter 2

Matty Healy!dad x f!reader

A/N: okay, second chapter/part…I had fun writing this part. Hope you enjoy it!!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, friends bickering, broken hearts (?), typos

Chapter 1

“Okay, we’re off.” Matty announced, extending his arms towards Grace. She faked refusing his request, which made Amelia chuckle and hide her little face on her mother’s best friend's neck. Y/n laughed witnessing. “Give my baby back!” Matty insisted, poking Grace on the arm.

In a swift movement, Matty took Mel and stepped back a few meters. “Yes!” He celebrated.

“Have fun” Y/n said to them. “Tell the guys that I’ll drop by anytime soon” She stated to Matty.

“You two can come with us...” He offered to the grown up women. Y/n shook her head.

“She needs her time with daddy.”

Matty smiled wide, dropping kisses on his daughter's chubby cheeks. “My sweet baby!”

“We need to gossip about you as well.” Grace muttered behind her mug. Matty looked instantly to Y/n arching an eyebrow. He was expecting an answer, meanwhile Y/n wanted to kill her best friend.

Y/n purposely ignored the conversation. Saying goodbye to her daughter. “Give mommy a kiss, and go.” Y/n sensed Matty staring. Matty stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, analysing how Y/n ignored eye contact. 'Was it a joke or a fact? Or both?'

If he didn’t say more, she wasn't going to either.

“Okay…” He spoke with his voice full of questions. “See you two later. Don’t burn the house down, please!” He turned around, with Amelia secured in his arms.

Once the sound of the door closing reached Y/n's ears, she looked dead panned at Grace. “I’m going to kill you, idiot. Why did you tell him that?”

“What?” They stared at each other for a minute. “I wasn’t lying…” Grace shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t care, Grace. He has a big ego, stroked daily by…”

“Fans and hot models, actresses…”

“Yes, thank you.” Y/n shut her with a stern look. Deeply annoyed about that truth. "So he doesn’t need to know that we…sometimes-”

“Many, many, many times...”

“Why- shut up!” Y/n walked away towards the living area, which connects directly with the kitchen. “We don’t talk about him that much…and even if we did, he doesn't need to know, okay?"

“It was a joke!” Grace followed her, plopping at Y/n’s side on the big couch.

Y/n hold a scream, saying “I can’t stand you sometimes.”

Grace laughed at her antics. “You love me. Anyway…” she dragged the start of the phrase too much for Y/n’s liking. “What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?” Y/n tried to keep her voice tone as normal as she could.

“No. Talk to me.” Grace warned her. Turning, so they were face to face while sitting on the big white couch. “Y/n…”

“I-” She didn’t know where to start. Not even her understood what was really going on inside her head.

After a week of having Matty around, her nerves were over the top. As she said, the frontman was fulfilling his duties as Amelia’s father like a champ. He was always like that once he was home. Being the perfect father and co-parent. Years before, she would not have believed it was possible. Never. But so many times he made her swallow her words, or thoughts, for what this matter involved. Once, he explained to her how guilty he sometimes felt while being away. Voicing his worries to her warmed Y/n’s heart.

They were truly friends, co-parenting a beautiful girl. Although being a parent was hard. A life full of joy, but full of worries as well. The fear of fucking her little mind creeping inside Matty’s mind, but Y/n’s as well. They bond over sharing good moments, but mostly through surfing the waves of sadness and hard times.

Y/n couldn’t complain about his behaviour during the week. At the same time, Y/n couldn’t ignore the growing pain inside her chest. He was being a pal, but not her partner.

Everything went even south the night before. She was laying in bed, exhausted after a long day full of: playing, changing nappies, a walk to the park, feeding Amelia and bath time. She could clearly hear from her bedroom -which was at the other side of the hall on the first floor-, Matty softly singing to Amelia. He was the one in charge of bedtime. With him sound tracking, Y/n scrolled through Instagram. Hundreds of notifications. Her accounts were private, but people managed to constantly tag her.

The same picture repeating itself plastered on her phone screen. Matty walking with a girl. No holding hands, no kissing, no nothing. The speculations were there, under, as texts and comments. People convinced the girl walking along was a worldwide known model. Matty looked kind of tired at her side, everything about her looked perfect. Y/n locked the device, leaving it on the bedside table. She took a deep breath and tried to sleep. Her mind racing with thoughts kept her wide awake for longer than she wanted to accept. Not conclusions, only a sour heart.

“Nothing. It's nonsense.” Y/n told Grace.

“It's not nothing if it is worrying you…” Y/n laughed, loudly. The irony.

“Nothing is really wrong. He’s a great father, Amelia is happy to have him back…work is good.”

“But?”

“What?”

“But something is clearly disturbing you...”

Y/n succumbed to Grace’s inquiries. “It’s so stupid. We have an arrangement…everything we do- Matty and I, everything we do around here is for Amelia to be happy and healthy-” She rambled, not really making sense.

“But?”

“But I’m sinking down.” Y/n admitted. Those words directly to her more than to her friend.

“Why?” Grace knew she was pushing a little, feeling at the same time as it was for the better. “Why are you sinking?”

“It’s selfish…”

“Stop beating around the bush, you idiot. Say it!”

“I want someone to care for me, to fucking love me…”

Grace looked at her like a third eye appeared on her forehead. “Amelia adores you, I adore you…”

“I don’t mean it like that, Grace! It’s been so long since someone…you know” Grace busted into a fit of laugh. “Are you fucking laughing?” Y/n couldn’t believe her.

“Yes!” Grace said, trying to contain the sound but failing miserably. She started to roll on the couch. Y/n stood up.

“Stop laughing!”

“I can’t believe the crap you said.”

Y/n was starting to get pissed. It took a lot of her to express those feelings, and Grace wasn’t taking her seriously. “Thanks for being emphatic.”

“No, no..” Grace seated back up, drying her eyes. “I am.”

“You are no-”

“Shhhh-” Y/n friend lifted a single finger. “My time to talk!” she grinned when Y/n kept her silence. “I understand what you are saying…but please, if you want someone to fuck you-”

“That’s not the only thing I want.” Y/n screaming while blushing massively.

“Fine, yeah- still, you can go on dates!”

“Fucking when Grace? I have a daughter to raise...”

“She has a father, she has me…the boys would do it for her and for you, you know that. Amelia has an uncle, and granpare-”

“Yeah, but I’m her mother!” Y/n started to pass around the living room. She knew deep down those were merely excuses.

“Matty is his father. Doesn’t stop him from hooking up, date or whatever.” Grace tried to present her thoughts without knowing it was a dagger directly towards Y/n’s heart. Y/n looked down. The pictures came to her mind. “Y/n…” She snapped out of her daydreaming.

Y/n cleaned her throat. “Yeah, you’re right.” Her heart was aching. “I should-”

“Oh, no-” Grace looked through her.

Y/n’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Don’t tell me…”

“I haven’t-”

“Shit, Y/n.”

“What?!”

“He’s fucking half of the population of the planet. He’s not made for being a good partner…”

“Don’t who- What you’re tal-”

“Matty.”

Y/n knew her facade was weak. At that moment of the conversation she couldn’t stop. “What about him?”

“Look at me and say you’re not waiting around for him.”

Y/n shut up. She was the one aware of her feelings. Although, she never thought she was doing what Grace implied she was doing. She felt light-headed. Y/n sat down slowly on the couch. “Am I doing that?” She asked herself.

“Y/n…”

“Fuck-” she closed her eyes tight. “No.” Y/n jumped from the couch. Her mind was working hard. Hurting a little. “I’m not waiting for him. Maybe I was excusing myself from dating…” She rambled out loud, starting to form a believable tale.

Grace tried to warn her. “He’s not going to stop dating hot girls…not that you aren’t hot, just-”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I bet he’s good at…it. That's not enough though-”

“Yes.”

“He cheated before-”

“We don’t know that for a fact-”

“Y/n…”

“Do you still have Paul’s number?” Y/n asked suddenly.

“Maybe. Why?”

“Give it to me.”

“Y/n…you need to slow down”

“Grace, give it to me!”

She grabbed her phone reluctantly, sending Y/n her cousin's phone number. Y/n started typing seconds after opening her phone. She was high on some cocktail of feelings, and Grace didn’t know how to or if she had to interfere. Maybe it was for the best. She hopped.

Suddenly, Y/n left the phone in the middle of the coffee table. “Done” she said.

“Mhm?” Grace was unsure.

“I have a date. Friday night.”

Grace couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re crazy!”

“That’s new to you?” Matty asked -obviously- joking about it. Grace and Y/n felt like teenagers being caught after smoking for the first time. “Are you two okay?” he asked, fearing the answer due to their faces and sharing looks.

He left Amelia on the floor. She walked towards Y/n, who lifted her up. “Yes.” she responded, kissing her daughter, trying to find some comfort.

“Why then do you look like someone died?”

Grace laughed, trying to break the tension. “You just scared us. Wasn’t expecting you here so soon.”

“Yeah, well…mel-mel was screaming for a change of diapers. Forgot those at home. So…”

“Right!” Grace continued talking. Y/n was struggling to keep her calm, although she felt so pathetic.

“Y/n, are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, wh-”

“She has a date...with Paul!” Grace shouted, scaring all of them. Making Amelia cry.

“Thanks, Grace!” Y/n’s voice was full of sarcasm. She walked away with her baby crying, trying to calm her.

She wasn’t far enough, she listened to Matty and her friend talking. “Paul, your prince charming cousin Paul?” Matty asked, Y/n felt a wave of regret. He sounded pissed, she thought. Y/n shushed Amelia, and herself too.

“Erm, yeah..him.”

“Y/n..” Matty went searching for her. He found her quickly. The lead singer stopped at the door, watching and analysing every one of Y/n’s movements.

“Yeah?”

“Are you really going on a date?” The question angered her. Who was him to ask that? She never questioned his dating behaviours. Never. Especially when those came with a tsunami of articles. Their personal romantic lives were out of the arrangement about co-parenting and living together. They weren’t a couple. He was not allowed or supposed to question her dating behaviours.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Why?”

That took Matty back. “I-”

“Can you look after Mel…or I can ask-”

“Yes, I can. When?”

“Friday night.”

“Friday night” he repeated. “Okay, I have to check some tracks- Since I had to leave early, George sent them- ” Matty abruptly informed them, stumbling with his words. “Nice to see you, Grace.” and he was out of sight.

Grace walked out of the living room slowly. Making herself visible for mother and daughter. “Now I have a good reason to kill you.” Y/n stated.

Grace smiled wide. “I’m this beauty godmother, you can’t.” She took Amelia in her arms. The little girl laughed, and some tension disappeared from her mother's body.

She tried not to think too hard about Matty’s reaction. She focused on the date. No spark on her body, maybe it would come closer to it, to Friday. She tried to believe this was for the better. Grace was right, Matty wasn’t probably made to be her partner, but someone out there was.

Chapter 3

Feedback always welcome ❤️

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy #matty healy! dad #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy imagine

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kinda-iconic · 25 days

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Pumpkin Soup

Word count: 2'200+

Tagging: @bloodboundismylife @choicesfannatalie22 @velvet1753

Pairing: Adrian x MC (Amelia, Amy for short)

Warning: suggestive comment - nothing major

Summer brought many surprises, the unpredictability of the English weather being one of them. Having spent most of the Autumnal months in the familiarity of New York, Adrian managed to obtain a few weeks at the newly-founded London offices of Raines Corp, in the hope that he may oversee the transfer and adaptation of communications between the London and the New York branch. As an additional treat, Amy was able to accompany him, the latter forking out on a holiday let; a beautiful, rustic cottage located in the South-West of England, surrounded by miles upon miles of agriculture and woodland.

Having spent a couple of days in the city, Adrian pulls up onto the cobblestone driveway, dimming the headlights as he parks. As he removes the keys from the ignition, he takes a moment to sit back and admire the view before him; the property is cosy, its walls and foundations made from sandstone, narrow steps leading onto a sturdy patio. He looks up at the roof, the tiling somewhat immaculate for a building of its age. He smiles wistfully, collecting his laptop case from behind the seat before stepping out, quickly noticing the humidity in the air. A rumble of thunder catches him by surprise as he makes his way up the steps, sliding his case into one hand as he unlocks the front door with the other.

“Amelia?” He calls out into the hallway, slowly walking over to the staircase; he stops at the bottom, his elbow leant up against the banister, “sweetheart?”

“I’m in here!”

A soft voice carries through from the other end of the corridor, accompanied by the sound of a pot clanging against the sideboard. He quirks a brow, his intrigue leading him in that same direction.

Adrian enters the kitchen, where he is immediately met by the earthiness of basil, followed closely by a waft of thyme as Amy opens the oven door; she dons a pair of oven mitts, their ends tainted by hues of orange and brown, evidence of their previous endeavours. He watches from the doorway as she removes a ceramic tray from the heat, fumbling around blindly in her attempt to switch it off, the crockery seeming to increase in weight the longer it remains in her grasp. Sensing an impending disaster, Adrian moves to intercept, reaching for the dial; he turns it off, allowing Amy a chance to adjust her hand placement. She places it down on the chopping board, making sure that it is situated away from the edge before removing her gloves, using them to waft the steam in the direction of the window.

“If you do that any longer, we’ll have the entire neighbourhood on our doorstep asking for a piece.”

She wipes her floury hands down her front, “they’ll have to fight me for it.”

“The kitchen smells like a bakery,” he comments, glancing around the room; most of the appliances remain undisturbed by her efforts, but as Adrian pans around to the sink, the evidence is clear to see, doughy residue – now hardened – covering at least three kitchen cupboard handles, the occasional smear appearing in the creases of the sideboards and on the tap. Amy follows his gaze, a rosy flush seeping into her cheeks.

“I got a bit carried away, didn’t I?” She looks down at the floor, failing to conceal her grimace as she steps in a pile of gloop, the action not going unnoticed, “I didn’t realise it was so messy in here.”

“How did you manage to get it on the floor?”

“I don’t know,” she frowns, “it was all in the oven, the last time I checked.”

Adrian walks over to the stove, carefully removing the lid from a saucepan; he leans in, unable to resist sniffing its contents as he gives the amber liquid a stir.

“Is this butternut?”

“And pumpkin,” she moves to stand beside him, reaching for a discarded egg cup; taking her thumb and index finger, she retrieves a pinch of herbs, sprinkling the dried leaves into the soup, “with rosemary and coriander.”

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”

“I wanted to at least try doing something productive today,” she smooths down her skirt, her fingertips fiddling with the hem, “is it too much? I-I’d understand if you wanted to get takeout.”

“Why would I do that?” He questions, leaning back against the countertop, his hands scrambling for purchase, “you’ve worked really hard on this.”

“It’s…actually my third attempt,” she trails off, glancing at the bin, “it looks like a vegetable massacre in there.”

“What happened the first two times?”

“I used coconut milk instead of cream,” she bites her lip, “and the second time, all the vegetables went down to the bottom and they burnt.”

She tilts her head in the direction of the sink, where a large pan lies discarded, blackened lumps of what appears to be the charcoaled remains of vegetable decorating the steel. Adrian cups his mouth, as if trying to refrain from laughter, but his attempt falls flat as a bemused snort escapes him, the sound failing to avoid Amy’s ears.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at-” he quickly notices Amy’s dejected expression as she turns away from him, playing around with the tap, “hey…no, I…I didn’t mean anything by it.” He moves to stand behind her, smoothing his fingers down her forearms, only coming to a stop when his palms caress her own, “can I show you?”

“Sh-show me what?”

He retrieves the begotten pan, angling it just enough so that it captures the light; using his index finger, he etches an image into the burnt embers.

“It’s a face…see?” He points to each section in turn, “there’s the eyes…that’s his nose and that…is his mouth.”

Amy smiles sadly, gently removing the pan from his hands. She squirts some washing up liquid onto the charred remains, running it under the hot tap for a few seconds.

“I really wasn’t laughing at you, sweetheart. I’m sorry if that’s how you interpreted it.”

“It’s okay,” she sighs despondently, reaching for the scrubbing brush, “I know that deep down, I just…” she shakes her head, “I wanted to impress you.”

“You don’t need to try and impress me,” he speaks softly, reaching for the tie of her apron; he removes the article, only pausing to lift the ribbon from around her neck, his knuckles brushing against the nape of her neck, “I love you as you are.”

“I know you do, but I just wanted to try and achieve something without making a mistake first. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely,” he nods, placing a tender kiss to the top of her head, “but we’re human. It’s only natural that we make a mistake or two. If we got things perfect all the time, would we ever learn anything?”

She shakes her head, “I guess not.”

He quickly pecks her temple, removing himself from her warmth before trudging over to the cabinet; he reaches in, collecting two soup bowls, his brows furrowed in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Amy re-gloves her hands, mouthing something quietly to herself before turning the bread upside down onto the chopping board, “you look like you’re somewhere else.”

“Do you think we might benefit from using a pasta dish instead?” He holds one of the soup bowls above his head, “we would have plenty of room for the bread then.”

“It’s up to you,” she looks over at him, her smile brightening as she takes in his appearance; he is crouched down on the floor, his forehead wrinkled in concentration, as if his life depended on the decision that he is about to make, “whatever’s easier, Adrian.”

“I can’t decide,” he pouts, “small bowls would require less washing up.”

“But would allow for more crumbs,” she walks over to him, draping the tea towel over his head, “use the pasta dishes.”

He shakes the material off his head, the ridiculousness of this action eliciting a soft chuckle from Amy; she removes the saucepan from the heat, stirring its contents as Adrian walks back over to her. He places the dishes beside her, moving them closer to the pan as Amy begins to plate the food.

“Would you like some help?”

“You can stand there and look pretty.”

He wraps his arms around her midsection, rocking her gently from side to side as he presses kisses to her neck and shoulder, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I do that every day,” he sighs in contempt, his gaze drifting from Amy’s face to their surroundings, as if memorising ever detail, “I really like it here.”

“So do I,” she opens a drawer, removing the bread knife from its sheath; she cautiously pierces the loaf, slowly withdrawing the blade as it slices cleanly through, “it’s a lovely place.”

“Would you live here? If our vocations were not an issue.”

The knife clatters against the wood; they both look at the window, their eyes meeting one another’s reflection.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” he kisses the space behind her ear, “we both love it here, so why not?”

“But your company…”

“I’ve dedicated decades of my life to that place,” he buries his face in her sweater, closing his eyes as notes of jasmine and cherry blossom reach his nose, “it was my passion project; something that I cherished. Why shouldn’t I step back to pursue another?”

“Another passion project?”

“Mmmmm…” he hums in agreement, “do you agree?”

“What do you want to do?”

“You, preferably,” his eyes glaze over, tendrils of crimson swiftly replacing their usual brown hue; he tilts her face upwards, his knuckle grazing her skin as his hand moves downward, coming to a stop at the hollow of her throat, his voice devoid of volume as he leans in to whisper in her ear.

“You’re my new passion project, Amelia,” he presses his lips to the curve of her jaw, smiling against her skin, “I want to dedicate my time to our future. Marriage…children…we can have whatever we want.”

“Ch-children?”

He nods, “if that is what you want.”

“Is it something that you want?”

“I’ve thought about it,” he replies in turn, “I want to give you the world, if you’ll allow me. I’ll do anything and everything in my power to make that happen.”

He kisses her cheek, “we don’t need to discuss it now. I just wanted you to know that I have thought about what the future holds for us.”

“I appreciate that.”

She pushes herself up onto her toes, meeting his lips with her own before settling back on the balls of her feet; she plates the bread, holding out the dish for Adrian to take. He takes it with a grateful smile, taking a moment to gather cutlery.

“This looks and smells delicious, Ames.”

“I should hope it is,” she picks up a slice of bread, taking a small bite of the crust, “it took me three hours to get the recipe right.”

“Well, you’ve done amazingly as usual,” he beams brightly, guiding her by the small of her back to the dining table. They both take a seat on either side, too engrossed with the food to speak. They share a comfortable silence as they eat their meal, neither one saying so much as a word. It is only when Adrian begins to stack their dishes that he breaks the quiet, unable to hide his bemusement.

“What?”

He shakes his head, “nothing. It’s just nice seeing you so relaxed.”

“I am,” her smile softens, “I’m comfortable and full. There’s no better feeling.”

“Shame about the washing up, though.”

“What washing up?”

Adrian feigns scratching his temple, his eyes darting in the direction of the sink; she follows his gaze…

…to the pile of dirty pots and pans, piled clumsily in the sink.

She groans, her body slumping back in her chair; Adrian walks up behind her, chuckling softly as he places his hands on her shoulders, the pad of his thumbs massaging soothing circles into her skin. He bends over, kissing the top of her head.

“I’ve got this one.”

“A-are you sure?”

“You cooked, so it’s only fair that I wash up, is it not?”

Amy smiles tiredly, nodding.

“Go and get into your pyjamas,” he carries the crockery over to the sink, leaning against the counter, “there’ll be a nice and creamy hot cocoa waiting for you when you get back.”

Amy nods, the pair sharing one last look before Amy disappears out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Adrian waits until he hears her footsteps dissipate before turning back around, a loud sigh escaping him as he examines the messy kitchen around him.

“Couldn’t make it easy, could you babe?” He mutters under his breath, his expression softening as he starts to move the pots out of the basin and onto the side, only stopping when he feels something beginning to slip from his pocket. He manages to catch the object in question before it hits the ground, taking a moment to study the box as he undoes the clasp…

…revealing an engagement ring, adored with a handful of little diamonds, an oval-shaped ruby sitting comfortably in the middle.

“One more day,” he exhales slowly, re-situating the box in his breast pocket, “one more day.”

#playchoices #choices bb #bloodbound #adrian raines #adrian x mc #choices fic

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redhairedwolfwitch · 1 year

Text

Doctor Y/n - Attending Orthopedic Surgeon - 9 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader

Peeling back the duvet, you glanced down at the sleeping Allison who had snuck into the bed again whilst you asleep.

"Good morning Ally, time to get up before Luna starts her alarm call for your auntie Joey." You watched as the sleeping child began to stir from her dreamland.

///

"Joey, I'm going to get in the shower!" You declared after Owen had picked up Allison to take her and Leo to the park, bonding time for the children with Owen's mother, plus his sister Megan and her son Farouk.

Teddy was already at work, so you took your shower alone whilst Jo was up with Luna already in the kitchen when you heard the knock at the door and Jo going to answer it.

"Why are you dressed like a pigeon?"

"I'm a phoenix! Phoenix Fest!" Schmitt defended his costume, "what happened to your hair? Are you having a nervous breakdown?"

"No! I was trying to lighten my hair a few shades but I fell asleep, and Braces is in the shower after staying up with Allison who wouldn't sleep. I try to study when Luna's sleeping and Teddy and Braces have Allison and also Leo and Rory who visit now, but- help me!" Jo got louder and louder as she prepared a bottle for Luna.

"Do you have scissors?" Schmitt carefully asked, grimacing as Luna began to cry and Jo sighed.

///

"Okay, I will see you two later!" You nodded to Jo, then glancing at Luna before getting out of the car, not seeing Jo fail to follow as you headed into Grey Sloan for your shift.

"Tandem cyclists crashed. Rider in the back flew about 10 feet, she's hypotensive and presents with numbness in her legs, possible spinal fractures." Nico explained as he caught up to where you had caught up with Link.

"Swell." Link's smile was fake, reminding you of how he had turned up at the penthouse needing a place to crash after his proposal to Amelia went south.

"Might want to lose the happy face. Patient might be paralysed." Nico replied as you raised an eyebrow, realising things were probably even worse than you thought.

"I don't want to look how I feel, Nico, which is like I want to break the whole world into a million pieces and bury it so no one can find it." Link put on another fake smile as the three of you grabbed gloves.

"Maybe we should take this one then?" You offered, gesturing between yourself and Nico, the patient talking about how her wife had steered the bike into a family's day out in the park, and a nearby priest who had been visiting the duck pond.

"Y/n, her wife, Ms Correa, bed three." Winston instructed you, and as you headed over to the patient bed in question, you were glad it was you Winston sent, and not Link, as Amelia's face broke into a smile at seeing you.

"Can someone make sure that the priest is okay?"

"Priest?" Your nose crinkled in confusion, looking to Amelia for an explanation.

"They ran over a priest visiting the duck pond."

///

Nico, Link and Amelia were in the OR whilst you were in the ER, looking for anyone who could help Schmitt restore a patient's face after blasting it off with illegal fireworks, a patient who was apparently on shrooms.

It was Webber who returned with a plastics candidate who was interviewing.

"Did you pull that doctor from the interview-"

"We needed a plastics surgeon, I gave privileges." Webber replied, heading to go try to re-arrange the interview with Dr Lin, whilst you were prowling the ER for ortho cases.

///

"Y/n!" Megan Hunt spotted you almost immediately after having calmed Owen down from the fact that a priest had died after colliding with bikes that had almost hit his family, including Allison and Leo.

"Hello, Megan!" You froze for a moment before the woman pulled you into a hug.

"Come on, we're all going to the bar to raise a class for Father Christopher, and I haven't seen you in ages but Allison kept asking for her mommy and mama at the park today." Megan smiled, looking over at where Teddy was watching you both with a smile on her face.

///

Two incoming message(s)

Link: Found Jo sat in her car in the car park.

Link: She couldn't take Luna in to daycare and leave her.

One unread message

Link: What happened to Jo's hair?

Y/n: sleep deprivation and a hair lightening kit

You barely managed to type a reply to Link before Allison was in front of you, her hands on your knees wanting up.

///

"Okay I'm not going to tell you how to parent your son, but this is not going in Luna's bag. Hey, Braces, is Ally finally asleep?" Jo spotted you wrapped in a blanket, looking exhausted but you still tried to help with Link and Jo preparing the bags for Luna and Scout.

Especially since Amelia had headed to Minnesota, and Scout had decided to stop sleeping through the night.

"Teddy is dropping Leo off at Owen's, I think Scout is asleep and my job is now to try save Elsa's cape which ended up in the dishwasher? Leo's world, we just live in it." You concluded as you began to examine the remains of the cape.

"Too bad Jackson left, this cape needs plastics to restore it, and I don't think I can ship it to Boston."

///

"All of the children are at daycare, one form or another. Cody texted me a photo of Rory and everything... and Arizona just texted me a photo of Sofia, wow it's been forever since I've seen them!"

"Should we shelve the Elsa costume?" Teddy enquired, confusing you and Owen with the new conversation topic.

"What?" Owen frowned whilst you jumped to wanting an explanation.

"Why?"

"You know, put Leo in more t-shirts and jeans? Just, is that the right parenting move?" Teddy asked, glancing between you and Owen, before reaching for your hand as she noticed you shift nervously.

"Did something happen?" Owen enquired but Teddy shook it off.

"None of the other kids at daycare are wearing costumes, so I just..."

"I think Leo should decide what Leo wants to wear. I didn't have much growing up, clothes especially. Costumes of characters never happened, so I think... I am being called." You headed out as the scans were up for Owen and Teddy's patient.

///

Amelia calling you from Minnesota took you by surprise as you headed into the Residents Olympics, sitting with Jo and Link.

"I found a strawberry in my patient."

"Back in med school, I found a yam." Link added, eating more crisps before putting bets on the residents.

"Brussel sprouts. Plural." You added in, making Jo and Link look at you in shock.

///

"Look at you two, breaking rules and saving lives. Too bad I prefer Teddy with Y/n than my own brother." Megan Hunt sassed as Owen looked offended and Teddy tried not to laugh.

You were completely in the dark about their patient, and the actions that would follow everything.

///

Your phone buzzed with an email, opening your phone to see Callie had sent you a research article to read. You barely had time to open it as Jo sent a message to you.

Joey: please hurry home, Link is singing depressing lullabies

"I'm worried, I want Leo to be okay in the world, what if-"

"What if we let him be himself?" Owen suggested, smiling as he spotted you sat on the floor of the daycare, helping Leo put on Elsa's cape.

"I'm worried that the world won't be kind. I'm worried that it will be hard. I'm worried that people will be cruel." Teddy confessed, her eyes lingering on where you were grinning and singing Let It Go with Leo and Allison.

"Maybe they will be. Y/n has seen more hardship and cruelty as a child than any child should, but despite my first judgements, S/n is great with the kids. Leo's happy, let's just let him be happy, okay?" Owen suggested, smiling as Leo spotted them both and made a beeline, whilst you pushed the pushchair that Allison had been put in.

"Let's get you all home." You barely heard what Owen said as Teddy walked over to you, holding Leo in her arms but leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Hi, love. How was your day?"

///

Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld @multifandomlesbianic @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived @inquisitive-nix @grey-warden-commander @unexpected-character @youralphawolf72 @incorrectlycorrectfun

#grey's anatomy x reader #grey's anatomy imagine #jo wilson x reader #teddy altman x reader #teddy altman imagine #jo wilson imagine

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raine-blxssxm · 11 months

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Phone destroyer Kennelia!!

For their mystical units, I decided to keep Kenny’s theme where he’s a Greek god (Hermes) by making Amelia Persephone. For Amelia’s weapon/power in the game, she has a basket of pomegranates, half of them being edible, and the other half being bombs. Her idle ability is that she’s capable of throwing these pomegranate bombs whereas her charged move is that she regains health by eating a pomegranate. This is inspired by a Greek myth I read a couple months ago at school where Persephone ate a pomegranate in the underworld, which obligated her to stay with Hades. According to the book, she did this because her favorite food was pomegranates, and she was extremely hungry after not eating for so long. Hope you guys like it!! ❤️

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houdinicarpenter · 2 months

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Vada Cavell Headcanons

──────── GIF is not mine

runs into doors & walls because she's on her phone

Chris is her favorite Slaton sibling (1000 lb Sisters)

she and Amelia have sister sleepovers, where they'll sleep in each other's rooms and stay up watching youtube/tv shows/movies on her laptop

hates waking up early and sleeps until noon on most weekends

falls asleep on car rides

could fall asleep almost anywhere actually

Mia introduced her to the show South Park and now she's in love with it

has a major sweet tooth and often gets sugar rushes

is a terrible dancer

will challenge anyone to a race up stairs

has always wanted a dog

pool parties make her anxious

i will definitely be doing more of her in the future! 🫡

- parker (HOUDINICARPENTER / BWS) 🖤

#parkerwrites #parkershares #vada #vada cavell #the fallout #vada headcanons #vada cavell headcanons #my headcanons #she is the biggest mood #especially to an introvert #istg #the fallout movie #the fallout 2021 #blackwolfstabs #houdinicarpenter

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wheels-of-despair · 9 months

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Enough | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry Pairing: Tom Grant x You Summary: It's been a year since the events of Enough, and you and Tom have an office Christmas party to attend. Contains: Cookies, cocoa, presents, coworkers, familiar faces, just a happy little check-in with Tom and the one who didn't get away. Words: 2k

"Hey. Maintenance man."

Tom's face breaks into a grin at the sound of your teasing voice on his radio, causing him to drop the plastic clip he'd been holding in his mouth while he fixed a drooping string of lights on the welcome sign. He bends down to pick it up off the ground before pulling the radio off of his belt.

"Where are you, and why is the answer not," your voice drops in an imitation of him, "Standing proudly next to my beloved at the office Christmas party?"

He laughs to himself and presses the button to answer. "On my way, love. Had to fix the lights on the sign again." He holds the radio in one hand and works with the other, sticking the plastic back to the wood and draping the light string over it.

"This is no time for over-achieving, Thomas. Santa's list has already been finalized. You'll just have to try harder next year."

Tom snorts and stands back to admire his work.

Welcome to Sandy Shores!

Tom loved it here. He knew the place inside and out; he'd helped build it, after all. He knew every employee, every delivery person who came in and out, and hoped to remember the faces of returning guests next summer. (And if he didn't, the sassy lass who ran the office would help him match names to faces.)

They'd be celebrating their one-year anniversary next month. One year since he'd shown up in front of her flat and convinced her to come back to Cornwall with him. One year since they'd packed her things into boxes, secured them in the back of his truck, and driven south. She'd followed him down in her beloved junk-bucket of a car - which she'd nearly run him over with once - and used a pair of radios to stay in contact during the long drive. They never wanted to be apart again.

They'd had a little time to get settled in before the holiday park officially opened to guests, and Tom soon realized that the week they'd spent together in the fall was only a preview of the good times to come. They still couldn't get enough of each other. They cooked together, and watched sunsets, and he'd taught her how to surf.

Well he'd tried to teach her how to surf. During their last lesson, she insisted she'd rather just sit on the beach and watch him. But that was alright as well; he quite liked having someone waiting for him with a warm towel and a big smile when he came shivering out of the sea. He especially liked it when she'd take him home and warm him up more.

When she first arrived, his caravan had looked like all the others. And then, one day… it was home. He'd never been a big decorator, but a new set of curtains here and a lamp there and a few pictures on the walls made all the difference.

His favorite picture was of the two of them. They'd been watching a sunset from their porch, and she declared that they needed a picture together. They'd turned around so that the vivid pink sky was in the background, and she'd snapped several smiling photos. But his favorite was the one where he'd turned his head at the last second to surprise her with a kiss on the cheek. His mouth had crashed into her with perhaps a little more force than he'd intended, and they'd both erupted into laughter.

His second-favorite was of the two of them on either side of their dear friend April. She and her granddaughter Amelia had come to stay for a week over the summer, along with Amelia's husband and children. April loved her new home almost as much as Tom did his, and was quite impressed with how far his cooking skills had come along since she'd seen him last.

Tom and his lady love worked together seamlessly; she took care of the paperwork, and he took care of the labor. It was just the two of them at first, but as more people were hired, things got easier. He couldn't operate the software to make a reservation or update the website if his life depended on it, and her most valuable contribution to the upkeep was occasionally holding a flashlight. But she held that flashlight like a professional, and he got quite good at scribbling down names and phone numbers on paper and promising that she'd call back to make things official. They made a great team.

"Thomas Grant, you have been out there admiring that sign for a full minute. It looks fine. Get in here."

Tom holds the radio to his mouth. "Are you watching me over the security camera?"

"Maybe."

"Like what you see?" He grins and spins around.

"Gorgeous. Now please get your gorgeous butt in here."

Tom sets off toward the office with a smile on his face. "Can't help but notice you're not at the party either, if you're in the office watching me on the monitor."

"Thought we'd make our grand entrance together."

"Awww," Tom coos as he steps in through the back door. He deposits his coat on the rack and slips into your office, avoiding the staff gathered in the lobby. "Hi."

"Hi," you greet, clicking away from the security cameras and standing from your desk.

You cross the room and meet Tom by the door, greeting him with a hug even though it had only been about an hour since you'd seen him last. He nuzzles his cold nose into your neck, and you squeak. He laughs and keeps burrowing.

"Tommm," you whine.

"Hmmmm?" he hums into your neck.

"We've got a party to get to."

Tom sighs, detaches himself, and opens the door for you. "Ladies first." You lead the way into the lobby.

"There they are!" Richard, the owner of the caravan park, holds his arms open in a surprised gesture like he hadn't seen you in years.

"Sorry, sorry, a few last-minute things needed to be taken care of," Tom apologizes.

"That's our Tom, always going above and beyond!" Richard says proudly. "Alright, now that everyone's here, I have a few things to say!"

Richard always has a few things to say. He's a little eccentric, but working for him has been a dream. You'd never had a boss who valued your opinions before. He absolutely adored Tom, and treated him like a most trusted advisor. No more barked orders and snide comments like at Shirley's. Aside from the occasional visit from Richard and his wife Marianne, you and Tom were left alone to run the place. You loved it.

While Richard rambles about your first year of business, you take a moment to admire the room.

A large Christmas tree stands by the window. Richard had requested beach-themed decorations, to match the park's name, even though there were very few guests this time of year. It did look nice. You and Tom had done the decorating yourselves. Shells, sand dollars, starfish, seahorses. Blue and white lights lined the reception desk and doorframe and glowed from within the branches of the frosted fake tree. It was all very coordinated and professional.

Home looked a little different.

You and Tom had opted for a more traditional look. Your tree was green, and multi-colored lights reflected off the plain but shiny ornaments. At night, when all the other lights were off, it cast a warm glow through the house that made you want to snuggle up and stare it until you fell asleep. You and Tom had been experimenting with different kinds of Christmas cookies, making a new batch each day, so it constantly smelled like home-made sweets. It was warm, and cozy, and absolutely perfect.

"So let's hear it for these two, who guided us all through a tremendous first year of business!"

A smattering of applause brings you back to reality. Richard, his wife, and the five off-season employees and their significant others beam at you and Tom. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

"Anything to add?" Richard asks. You give Tom a nudge with your shoulder.

"Uh, yeah," he clears his throat. "We just want to thank everyone for choosing to be here with us. Not just tonight, but in general. We've got a great thing going here, and we're both so happy that you're all part of it."

You nod in agreement. The room remains silent.

"…alright, I'm done." The small crowd chuckles at Tom's awkward conclusion, and you watch adoringly as his cheeks turn pink.

"Alright, everyone," Richard announces, "Let's eat, drink, and be merry!"

Everyone breaks off into smaller groups after the dismissal, and you turn to Tom with a smile.

"Doin' pretty good with that public speaking, Mr. Grant."

"Hush," he says with his best fake glare, making you laugh.

"Oh! The stockings!" You suddenly remember. "Everyone?" you ask, hoping to catch their attention before they start to get lost in conversation or wander off. "Don't forget to take your stocking from the fireplace before you go!"

The staff's eyes drift toward the unlit fireplace, and they hesitate. After a few seconds, Kyle and Kendra - Tom's friend from his previous place of employment and the pretty blonde he'd met in a bar last year - make the first move. Kyle is now Tom's second-in-command, and Kendra is your activities director. There's not much for her to do here in the winter-time, but she and Kyle live on-site and she helps out whenever someone needs an extra pair of hands.

The rest of the staff follows suit, until only two stockings remain.

"Richard?" you ask gently. He stops watching his employees tear into their gifts and turns to you. "The last two are for you and Marianne."

"Us?" he asks, eyes bulging. She peeks her head out from behind him.

"Of course!" you smile. "We couldn't leave you out, you're part of the family!"

Richard and his wife approach the fireplace, and sure enough, find their names on the last two stockings. They carefully remove them from their hooks and bring them back to you and Tom at the desk. You watch with amusement as they begin pulling out candy and trinkets. Their stockings held the same sort of treasures as everyone else's, but the unbridled joy on their faces at locally-made treats, lip balm, lotion, and socks was genuine. You and Tom had debated on whether you should include the owners in this little exchange with the rest of the employees or get them something else to set them apart, but now you knew now that you'd made the right decision.

You and Tom had so much fun shopping for stocking stuffers. You'd spent an entire weekend going in and out of every shop in town, looking for tiny treasures that no one would think to buy for themselves. You'd come home loaded down with bags, and had sat in the living room floor beneath the tree to sort through your findings and pack them into the light blue stockings that matched the office's beach decorations.

You and Tom stood to the side, watching your friends and coworkers and boss laugh and compare gifts. Christmas music played quietly as the group devoured the cookies you and Tom had been working on all week and drank an absolutely ridiculous amount of hot chocolate until, finally, they began to yawn and head toward the door.

When the numbers had dwindled to four - you and Tom and Kyle and Kendra - the party had lasted for nearly two hours. Kendra began collecting forgotten cups, but you stopped her.

"Those can wait 'til tomorrow. I think we've had enough excitement for one night," you yawn.

"You don't have to tell me twice," she grins. "Kyle! Take me home!"

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, rising from the chair where he'd been talking to Tom. He bends, and she hops on his back. Tom opens the door for them with a grin, and Kyle carries Kendra out.

You and Tom turn off the lights, lock the doors, and head for home. It's just a short walk away.

Your tree glows through the window, welcoming you to your favorite place on in the world. You and Tom go inside and slip into pajamas, but don't go to bed. You curl up on the couch together beneath a fuzzy blanket and watch the lights of the tree twinkle. You can feel your head getting heavier, and nuzzle into Tom's chest.

"Happy Christmas, love," he mumbles.

"The happiest," you yawn. Even half asleep, you know that this first Christmas with him is going to be hard to top.

#writings of despair #tom grant #tom grant is enough #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader

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