#the next lot will have to wait until next wednesday

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

Wasn't expecting my beastly sea animals to blow up suddenly like that 0-0

I'm guessing folks want to see more beasties then??

[thornilee013]

Happy Wednesday!! I am in the states but fortunately I didn’t have to go that far for Thanksgiving; it was all drivable which is nice. All of my siblings but one were able to come home and my best friend was able to schedule work so that he could avoid Thanksgiving with his family (ideal) but come spend the day after with mine, so it was really good all things considered. If you’re in the states, how was your holiday? Also, congratulations on the job offer, that’s huge! So proud of you!!! I hope that your schooling applications are also going well!

Could I please get some baby Jean when you have a chance? 🤍🤍🤍

prev | Baby Jean | WW 29.11.2023

"Amélie and Camille," his grandmother said, "that goes for you two as well. Let your brother take his nap. If you're bored you can work on your reading assignment."

Jean couldn't help but smirk to himself as his sisters whined and grumbled.

"We should be there in ten minutes, and then you can bother your brother as much as you like."

Jean's smirk turned into a frown.

MASTERPOST

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega x Fem!CopReader

Summary: you are a cop and Jenna's girlfriend

Warnings: fluff, angst

WC: 2.8k

Author's note: hope y'all like it sorry for any mistakes:)

Jenna lived a very busy life. From her schedule going from barely busy to being offered rolls for every possible roll she could dream of. She knew accepting the roll of Wednesday was going to either make her or break her career. She knew accepting such a popular roll would bring her more attention. It had become rare when she had free time. From all the filming she'd have to do, to all the interviews and photo shoots. It had been so exhausting. Physically and mentally. There were moments where she'd cry herself in to a panic.

There had been only one person who could calm her down. And that was her girlfriend of two years and half. One call from her was enough to calm her down. Just to hear her girlfriend's voice was enough, even when she was thousands of miles away. She truly did love her job, there was nothing else she'd rather do. But there was moments where she wished it didn't take so much of a toll on her.

But the moment she was offered a moment of peace she'd hurry back to L.A. Like how she was right now, she was only a few minutes away from her shared home. Although she knew her girlfriend was still working. She couldn't wait to surprise you. You had no clue she was coming home today.

She'd never forget the first time she met you. The way you looked in your uniform was a sight that had her feeling like she was drooling. Seeing you in you uniform never got old. She remembers the day she first saw you like it had been yesterday.

The police had been called on to the set due to a fight breaking out between two crew members. She remembered the day clearly. How two cops had shown up, one being a tall white man. He had been an attractive man she won't deny it but nothing had prepared her for the tall woman that followed behind him. Never had she seen someone so attractive, so breath taking. The way your arms flexed when you had to physically restrain one of the crew members.

The moment her eyes connected with yours, it felt like it was love at first sight. Something she had never believed in before that was until she saw you. The small smile you had shot her way had her heart racing. She knew in that moment, you'd be someone special in her life.

And she wasn't wrong.

Upon arriving at your house, she saw that your truck was not parked in its usual spot. She had hopped that you'd be home by now, but now she could surprise you when you got home. Thanking her driver as she got her bags and headed to the front door.

She couldn't wait to surprise you, she could only hope that you weren't in any more danger. She had her updates on you by one of your coworkers that was of a sister to you.

*

It had been a long day at work. After you got attacked by a few guys, after a stop gone wrong. To being involved in a shot out. All that had happened in the first five hours of your shift. You were sore and bruised. And just so tired. It was good thing your captain gave you the next three days off. You loved being a cop. It had been your dream job since you were a kid. But getting shot at was something you'd never get used to.

"Go rest L/n, you earned it. The last thing we need is for your girlfriend to be angry at us like last time. Who knew she could be so scary." Your friend Aaron who was also police officer joked.

"Hey don't underestimate the short latinas now Aaron."

You chuckled at the newest rookie. Celina was such a great change into the department. You knew she'd be a great cop.

"I'll see you guys later." You bid your goodbyes with a laugh. You really couldn't wait to get home. To lay on your bed and sleep. Well after talking to your girlfriend of course. You missed her a lot, FaceTiming wasn't enough nowadays. But it was the only thing letting you see her beautiful face. She had been away filming for the new season of Wednesday. With her no longer being in Scream 7. She a had bit more free time.

So with that in mind you hurried your way home. With L.A traffic it had taken a bit longer for you to get back home. Feeling relief once getting to your house. You hated coming home to an empty house, the times Jenna would be at home you were quick to get used to her being there. Your home felt so alive when she was home. So the times she was gone, the house felt so empty without her.

Shutting the door behind you, you were only two steps in when you froze in your tracks when you saw the back door open. As a muscle memory you went for your gun that was on your hip. But came back empty seeing as you showered and changed back in the station. Your personal weapon was in a safe, in your room. That was upstairs.

With your training coming at you, you were quiet as you made your way further into the house. Clearing every room you passed. Hoping that your training officer Harper's hand to hand combat would come in handy. There was noise coming from your gaming room. Even with your job, you still had time to game for a few minutes.

But if someone was in your gaming room. You knew they were most likely stealing. You had expensive equipment in there. Equipment you bought and other things Jenna bought you. The lights in the room were off, the only light in the room was coming from the hall. Meaning you could only see the figure of the intruder.

Using the wall as cover. They seemed small, easy enough for you hopefully to intimate them and if they react you could take them down. That's if they had no weapons.

"Police freeze, don't do anything stupid." Using your police voice. One of authority. You had to turn on the lights. Make sure they didn't have any weapons before you could fully come out of your cover.

"Mmm what are you going to do with me Officer."

"Jenna?" You turned on the light, smiling when you realized in fact it was your girlfriend who you hadn't seen in person the past four months. You had her in your arms in seconds. Your arms wrapping around her waist, lifting her off her feet. Her squeal was like a blessing in your ears. Her own arms wrapping themselves around your shoulder. Returning your hug just as tight.

The kiss that followed was filled with some love and so much more. You couldn't believe she was here with you. You couldn't believe that after four months she was back in your arms. The pain and soreness from your day was completely ignored, and honestly forgotten.

"God I missed you so much." You pulled away resting your forehead onto hers. With her legs wrapping around your waist you led her to your shared room. Hearing laughter as you continued to kiss all over her face.

"Put me down. I know you're bruised. Angela called me. Let me see you."

You should have known. The woman you work with, the ones you looked up to, they were more like sisters. Angela, Lucy and Nyla. They had grown fond of Jenna and you knew your girlfriend had grown a bond with them. So it was no surprise they told her about what happened today. With a sigh you took of your shirt. Revealing all your bruises and scraps.

You heard her gasp at the bruises.

"Hey I'm okay. Nothing I can't handle."

But she stayed looking at your bruises. Her fingers hovered over the bruises afraid of hurting you. Once she had heard what happened from Angela. She had been quick to try and call you. It was no surprise that you didn't answer. When she couldn't reach you, she had gone straight to the internet. Seeing the short videos of you being attacked. The way you were brutally assaulted by those men. It scared her how often you came close to dangerous situations.

"It still scares me. I don't want anything to happen to you."

You pulled her closer to you, wanting to comfort her in any way you could. "Baby look at me." Taking her cheeks into your hands, pulling her gaze away from your body to your eyes. Offering a gente smile.

"I can't promise that nothing will happen to me but I can promise that I'll try my very best to come back to you." Lightly placing pecks on her lips till you felt her smile.

"I know but ugh why can't you just work for me as my bodyguard or something." She complained as looked up at you, her hands creasing your bare lower back.

With a laugh you lead Jenna towards your shared room. "How about you tell me how filming went?"

"No how about you use that police voice, officer. I've been very bad."

It was good thing you had the next few days off. Seeing as you didn't get any sleep, the ache and soreness of the day was completely forgotten at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend's body.

*

"Oh my god you look so cute!" Jenna had put on the documentary you had been in. The documentary had been about a once famous celebrity, he's rolls had dried up, leading him into making cult of the students he was teaching.

It was a whole thing.

You were in a seat in your dress blues, you honestly looked awkward. "No I don't! I look like I'm constipated." You protested you didn't want to do the documentary in the first place. But your captain had kinda forced you. Seeing as you were one of the first cops to arrive on the scene.

"No you don't. Such sexy cop and you're all mine."

Her arm that was wrapped around your waist tighten. Her head was that had been resting on your chest was lifted as she looked up at you. Her eyes full with so much love.

"All yours." The smile you got return had you feeling like you won the lottery. Her smile was like a light in a dark room.

Lightly kissing you before pulling away to watch the parts of documentary you were in.

"Why can't we watch Wednesday? I was getting to the good part." You played with her long wavy hair. Gently scratching her skull, feeling the way her body basically melted on top of yours. You could tell she was tired. The way her eyes were fighting the sleep. A part of you wanted to take up her offer of being her bodyguard. You knew she struggled to sleep when she was busy. At least if you were with her. You could make sure she actually rests and take care of herself.

But you also loved your job. You had worked hard to be in the position you were in now. Not to mention the family you had found. You couldn't just leave them.

"You know I hate seeing myself on screen." Her finger traced random shapes on your bare stomach. Making sure not to hurt your bruises. Being back in your arms was everything she had wanted for the past months.

"But I love seeing you in action I-" You let out a laugh at the sight of her raised eyebrow, the suggestive smile she shot your way. "Stop, get your dirty mind out of there." The actress only let out a laugh, her smile only growing, it was a sight you loved dearly.

Jenna laid her head back down on your chest. Looking back at the television seeing you answering questions with your 'police officer' look. It was a look she found attractive, you looked so serious, so professional.

"Officer Y/ln, you've been an officer for three years now. Was this your craziest experience?"

She watched as you let out a short laugh, "Not even close. But this was one goes down as probably one the weirdest."

"Oh what was the craziest?"

"Mmh I don't-Oh! Tell them about the time a party mistook you and Bradford as strippers!" Was heard from behind the camera.

You had prepared yourself for the full on belly laugh the actress let out. You had once told her about that incident. You had never been so mortified and embarrassed in your life. Hearing the filming crew laugh had you chuckling as you clearly saw the blush on your own cheeks.

"Oh my god I can't believe Lucy brought that up."

"Me neither. Tim was pretty embarrassed as well."

The rest of the day was spent with Jenna in your arms. Taking advantage of the free day you both had. You couldn't ask for anything more.

*

"Just be safe okay?"

You were now back at work. The days you had off had passed way too fast. Your lovely girlfriend was still at your house enjoying her own free time. You were working the night shift for the next few days, along side your partner. Leaving for work had never been so hard. A part of you didn't want to leave Jenna's side. You had been so comfy laying on the couch with her before you had to get up and leave for work.

"Y/LN! Let's go, we have to question victims of a drive by."

And with that you were of to do your job.

*

The sun set and it had become dark out. The street lights came on, the streets empty, as faint sounds of yelling and gun shots rang out. The two officers trying their best to escape the suspects of the drive by they had been called to investigate further. With the ammunition quickly running low and their radios down they had no other option but to run from the suspected killers. Running into an apartment complex hoping they'd find someone that could help.

~

Jenna sat back on the couch watching the documentary you were in once again. She couldn't get over how attractive you looked on tv. While she waited for you to get from work, she made herself busy, by cleaning the house(which she didn't have to do much. You're a clean person.)

She also texted you. You always texted back. Even if the text was short. Most of your night shifts were always quiet. So you'd respond to her in full length texts. And when you were actually busy a simple thumbs up emoji would settle her nerves. But the last text she sent you was thirty minutes ago. By this point she would have gotten a simple emoji. But she was yet to receive anything. You hadn't even opened the text.

She couldn't help but to worry, her gut was telling her something was wrong. So she called one of your coworkers. Angela. Hoping the older woman could settle her nerves.

~

More gun shots rang out, the two officers had tried their best. Doing everything they could possibly do with the little ammunition they had left. Yet at the end it had not been enough. They were still out numbered.

Cutting through an alley had not been the smartest decision on the officers part but yet they had no choice. The only sound they could hear was of the dogs barking aggressively, the sound of their boots hitting the wet hard pavement and their heavy breathing.

Those criminals were out for blood and it was the exact thing they were getting. As they drove in from the other side of the alley successfully shooting one of the officers.

The shooting stopped as one of the officers successfully put down the two criminals. Their moment of relief quickly came crashing down at the sight of their partner on the floor.

The cries, the begging for their partner to stay down, to remain calm felt like they echoed. The cries for help as their partner chocked on their blood before going limp. Completely unaware of the criminals sneaking behind.

The officer noticed a moment too late, not being quick enough to reach their gun before the gun fire rang out once again.

**

It was two hours after she got off the phone with Angela when there was a knock on the door. She had moved quickly to reach the door. Swinging it open when she saw that it was Angela on the security cameras.

Angela didn't have to say anything. The look on her face said it all.

"No. No. No."

The cry was filled with denial, pain, heartache. The older woman could try to comfort the short actress. Although there was absolutely nothing she could do.

You were dead.

Gone.

:(

[deathbecomesthem]

Kiss the Cook 4 | 2.3K

linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader

Summary: It's just you and Eddie working on a lazy Wednesday morning. Until an unexpected guest throws a wrench in the gears.

A/N: This might seem a little out of place in this current series, but it's an older piece I wrote many moons ago. Based on a mostly true Thanatos server experience.

--

As usual, you leave the cream colored coffee mug at the prep station next to the fruit cup that Eddie’s prepared for you. His back is still turned, he’s throwing down a case of bacon to fry off before opening. This time of the day, his clothes are clean and fresh and his hair is still damp from his morning shower. His hair is pulled up in a bun that sits a little higher than normal, and it gives you a good view of the fine hairs at the back of his neck. Little soft curls that cling to his skin just above the place where his shoulders work underneath his crisp white shirt. 

The tattoo there has always been something that you’ve noticed, but you’ve never gotten the chance to really see it until now. It’s a sword, the hilt of which can barely be seen through the curls that rest at the nape of his long neck. The blade looks sharp enough to cut, and it reaches straight down his spine. You wonder about it, and hope there’s a day when you’ll get to see the tip of that blade, wherever it may be.

You’re thinking about reaching out to touch his neck. - let your fingertips feel the skin and hair - when he turns away from the grill and the meat that’s already begun to spit. He seems totally unaware of your gaze, even now with his profile in full view. You could already be sitting on the curb out back puffing through your pre-opening cigarette, but this is a rare thing getting to study him so intensely in a quiet moment.

“You gonna stand there and stare all morning, or do you wanna go smoke before this place turns into a zoo?” You can feel heat in your face immediately, and hope he doesn’t turn to look at how you’re reacting to his teasing. You were caught, but also, he was letting you look. Your stomach does a flip at the thought of it, and you wonder how long he’s known that you’ve been taking all of the sly glances you can.

“I was just waiting for you,” you spin on your heels and head towards the back door before Eddie can look at you, “whenever you’re done screwing around with your meat, I’ll be out here.” Eddie’s low giggle follows you through the back door. The 90 seconds between when you sit on the concrete and when Eddie opens the back door to join you is enough time to consider that he was flirting with you. Openly. That’s new. You think it’s new, anyway. Maybe you’ve just been missing it.

It’s with a heavy sigh that Eddie sits down next to you on the low to the ground curb, his long legs extended so his knees don’t sit up high under his chin. He’s long, like a stretched out cat dressed in his still clean black denim and cotton shirt. He’s close enough for you to smell the soap that still clings to his skin from his morning shower, and the deodorant he must have put on directly after. 

“So. I’ve been thinking about something.” Eddie’s fumbling hands are reaching around in his apron pocket while a Camel dangles from his lips. You extend your green Bic, flame lit, to his cigarette. Eddie smiles around the paper filter, his eyes flick from you to the end of his cigarette where the cherry burns to life. “Thank you,” he whispers on an exhale, his full focus back to you.

“What have you been thinking about Eddie?” You push your shoulder against his. As always, it’s a way to connect your bodies in a mundane and friendly way. You think it might be your imagination, but you could swear you can feel his body heat through his and your own layer of clothing. He’s gotten shy now, eyes focused on the asphalt parking lot in front of him. His long fingers are twirling the lit cigarette around while you wait for his answer.

“Well,” the word comes out in a higher pitch than normal, he clears his throat, “well, I was thinking maybe we could go out sometimes. Just you and me, like uh -” he brings his eyes back to yours, gauging your reaction, “- I’m sorry, I’m shit at this. It’s ok if you say no, I don’t want it to be weird at work or anything.”

“I don’t know how anything could be weird when you haven’t actually said anything outside of wanting to go out. Sure, Ed, we can go out. We’re friends aren’t we?” You can’t hold back the snicker that laces your words. Eddie’s so cute, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are pleading. He looks like a boy instead of the 26 year old man that he is, and he’s begging you for mercy.

“You’re torturing me on purpose, and it’s not nice.” No, it’s not nice, but it’s having its intended effect. Eddie wants to take you on a date, and you can’t care that the words are too hard for him to say when his face is so close to your own. When his lips, oh he can definitely see that you’re looking at them, are so pretty. He’s close enough that you can see the stubble across his top lip. Fresh shave this morning, but the light of the sunrise is starting to make the tiny hairs sparkle.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” both of your cigarettes are burned to the filter, and you know it’s at least a couple of minutes past opening time. You can’t find it in yourself to care. You have a wild thought about asking him to flick work with you. To go for a long walk and hold hands. Your thoughts get wilder when you notice his eyes flick down to your mouth as if in question. Unconsciously doing the same thing your own eyes have been doing to Eddie’s lips. Are we going to kiss out here on this curb while the sun is still hiding behind the trees?

Your thought is answered and the moment is broken. The sound of a familiar voice mumbling a curse accompanied by a fist loudly knocking against glass. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 3 minutes past opening, and Jimmy is right on time as always. The retiree that sits at the corner of the counter for the first hour of the diner’s business, and has been doing so since the week of the grand opening 15 years ago, is ready for his morning’s coffee. 

“Sorry, Jimmy, I’ll be up front in 30 seconds!” You shout around the corner of the building from your spot on the curb, neck craned in the direction of Jimmy’s grumbling before slapping your knees and standing up. You look down at Eddie and find that his gaze has returned to the tree line beyond the parking lot. He lets out a chuckle and pulls out another cigarette while you pat the top of his head in goodbye. By the time you get Jimmy's coffee and cruller, Eddie will be inside to fry up his eggs. You wonder, as you step back in through the metal door, whether the words between you and he will mean anything, or will be forgotten as the day moves forward.

–

You’re perched on a barstool at the counter, Jimmy is the only company you have when it happens. Eddie’s smoke break took longer than was reasonable, and you stepped out of your assigned role to make two sloppily fried over medium eggs for the old guy. You didn’t mind, you assumed this was just one of those mornings. Sometimes, Eddie is pensive. You only wished there was a way to relieve him of his duties for the day so he could get a real break. 

The sound of the back door opening draws your attention towards the kitchen while your hands mindlessly pull out a knife, fork, and spoon to roll into the paper napkin in front of you. Immediately you realize something is wrong, because the familiar sounds of Eddie stomping are replaced with a choked off scream and - possibly the sound of a scuffle of some kind. 

“What the hell -” before Jimmy can’t get out his thought, he too recognized that something was wrong in the small hallway that holds the back door and bathrooms, Eddie’s high pitched yelling freezes you in your spot. A split second later, your fear has you on your feet and sprinting towards the cacophony.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch!” Eddie hollers before throwing open the swinging kitchen door, narrowly missing your face. A small red blur passes in front of you before you catch sight of Eddie. He is standing in front of the men’s room door with his shirt pulled half over his head and his apron tangled in his arms. Your brain cannot make sense of the sounds and sights you’ve just experienced, and then you hear the voice of another man shouting at the opposite end of the restaurant.

“Christ Almighty!” Jimmy sounds less frantic than Eddie did a moment ago, but no less surprised. Your feet are moving again, letting the swinging door close on the disheveled line cook. Your mind is working to make sense of things when you round the corner to enter the dining room and find your foot skidding against something slick. A quick look down tells you it’s - what the fuck - bird shit.

There’s a bird loose in the restaurant. A bird. And the two men here are screaming messes.

You head back to the dining room and grab a broom before you make your way into the dining room to save an old man from the bird menace. The crashing of silverware tells you that things are not chill, and you’re ready for it. You think you’re ready for it until a flash of red feathers swoops down at your head as you remember to step over the spot of shit left on the linoleum. 

“What the fuck.” Your attempt to bat the bird away from your head with the broom, it’s a cardinal - you can see it clearly now, results in you breaking a bulb in one of the hanging lamps that are throughout the dining room. Glass rains down on your shoulders, and you have at least enough sense to shake it off rather than use your fingers to brush at it. “Can birds have rabies?”

“No!” Jimmy answers your rhetorical question from the opposite end of the dining room. You see that his coffee mug and plate of eggs are spilled on the floor next to his abandoned barstool, “but this one is fucking possessed! I flew right at my head like it was out for blood!”

–

The battle of the bird vs. Eddie Munson lasted 2 hours. Casualties included one lightbulb, a glass coffee urn, a set of salt and pepper shakers, a ceramic coffee mug, a tray of donuts (bird shit), and the ceramic plate that held Jimmy’s poorly made over medium eggs. You and Eddie tried and failed to catch the terrified creature dozens of times before opening both the front and back doors and returning to the spot at the curb where Eddie almost managed to ask you out on a date before the chaos began. It took less an 5 minutes for Mr. Cardinal to find the exit, swooping down at Eddie’s head as a final “fuck you”.

“What did I do to deserve that bird’s rage?” Eddie’s hair is a mess, and you can’t help but wonder if he had managed to do something that has resulted in this avian vendetta. “I say we clean up and call this day a loss. Charlie can kiss my ass if he has a problem with it.”

“Charlie won’t care. We already lost breakfast to a bird.” Your words came out with a giggle. Eddie caught the itch of laughter. The post bird drama hysterics had you both hunched over in gasping laughter until the thought of your lost wages made your smile fade. “I’m gonna make Charlie pay me kitchen wages for today.”

Eddie hummed in agreement with the sentiment. You certainly deserve it, especially considering what it will take to get the bird shit out of your non-slip footwear’s sole. When you go to stand, finally deciding it was time to clean and get as far away from the war zone as possible, you’re stopped by a soft grasp of Eddie’s calloused hand on your forearm. You look at him and find his gaze firmly on yours, and not looking out past the tree line. 

“How about we clean up and go out to lunch somewhere? My treat?” A battle well fought has given Eddie the nerve to ask the question he’s been wanting to ask for months. Even now, when he knows your answer, butterflies’ wings beat in his chest as the silence after his question is asked fills the air.

“Ok. But only if we can get some ice cream after.”

[yayayxs]

Only one.

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

Summary: After winning Street Woman Fighter nobody expected this…

Warnings: suggestive if you squint, not proofread!!!!

Bada met you in one of her classes.

At first it was a silly hobby you decided to start. You decided to finally get out of your apartment and one day you were scrolling through Twitter when you came across a dance company account. They weee hosting classes, so you mindlessly signed yourself up to it. Not thinking you were gonna like it.

The day of your class, you remembered walking in and a tall woman catching your attention. Immediately you catched her attention to. You hated anyone who told you that love at first sight was real, but for some reason this woman was making you reevaluate your whole perception of love.

So you started from going every Monday to going every Monday and Tuesday, to every Monday , Tuesday and Wednesday, to every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and eventually you would be there the whole week. Even if Bada wasn’t teaching that day, you still hoped to at least see her in the building.

And so did she.

As she constantly called in to come in to do a demonstration hoping you would be there.

Eventually she noticed you two were both desperate to see eachother, which finally made her come up to you.

After a year of knowing eachother you two finally started dating, but kept it on the low knowing that you two both liked to have privacy.

Which brought you here.

“The winner of Street Woman Figheter is…”

As the speaker trailed off Bada along with the other members of Bebe grabbed their hands in union, closing their eyes shut. This is what they’ve been waiting for. This is what she’s been waiting for you to see, all her hard work actually pay off. Even though she already knew how proud you were of her everyday. How you had to tolerate her always trying her best to make time for you, and no matter what the circumstances were, there you were waiting.

It’s one of the main reasons she fell in love with you in the first place. Obviously besides the fact of how gorgeous you were when you first started dancing in her classes. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you.

She smiled at the cheesy thought and quickly hit reality once again.

Then silence for a few seconds. She opened her eyes quickly searching for you in the crowd, there you were with her jersey. Bada immediately felt comforted by the presence of you. Your eyes both met, yours were watery as you looked into hers from the stage as you put a thumbs up. She only chuckled lightly at your attempt at reassuring her all the time.

She was so distracted she didn’t even noticed that they had called Bebe as the winner, not until the others members started to gather around and hug each other, they were a crying mess.

Bada comforted her team as she looked for your eyes again, there you were cheering and crying as you gave a look at her in admiration. She looked at you forming a heart with her arms and crying again as she mouthed a “I love you”.

The group went to hug Jam Republic next, a lot of “Congratulations” said and tears.

After they finally went back to their places the MC handed the mic to Bada. “Congratulations on your win, do you have any words to say to the audience”

Bada nodded as she took the microphone and put it up to her lips. She looked at the other members before starting.

“I actually wrote my speech” she said her voice slightly cracking and tears falling from her eyes. You and everyone else watched carefully as she took out the note from her pocket.

Oh Bada, always prepared for everything, you thought.

“First, I just wanted to thank everyone who supported us, my parents who believed in all of us and the other 8 amazing teams” she said giving time for the others to clap. As the claps down she looked at what was next on her paper, she smiled reading what she had wrote down.

You looked to her with a confused expression wondering what she was smiling about.

“Most importantly though, someone who I haven’t spoken about at all for the sake of privacy, and I know that she’s gonna be really mad at me for saying this on TV”

You’re eyes furrowed at her words as the audience laughed, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together about what she was about to do.

“There’s no way she’s really-“

“I would like to thank the most important person in my life right now, my girlfriend Y/n.”

For the third time that night your eyes met once again, you were shocked to say the least.

You two had promised to keep your relationship private for so long and you did not expect that and neither the crowd as they all let out gasps.

“Girlfriend? She has a girlfriend? She likes girls?” The lady behind you said, you had to hold back a slap, because yes duh she said girlfriend and of course she liked girls, was the show not enough?.

Your gaze went back at Bada and to her surprise you looked anything but mad. You actually smiled at her and mouthed an “I love you babe” and then unexpectedly a light was shined on you from the ceiling. You jumped lightly covering your mouth with both your hands.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now” You muttered. Everyone’s attention was suddenly on you.

Meanwhile on stage the rest of Badas team were also new to the news as their eyes found you and suddenly it all made sense.

The reason why Bada would have to step out a few minutes and return with light lipstick stains on her neck or the reason she didn’t go out with the team as she often would, which didn’t bother them but confused them sometimes.

“Everything makes sense now” lusher whispered to the rest of the team.

“Right! No wonder she’s been all happy and bubbly these past few months I was starting to think she was going to quit” tatter answered, the rest of the team laughed, as Bada looked back to see what her team was laughing about but she quickly continued her speech.

“My girlfriend has been my main motivation throughout this amazing experience, she’s been there for me when I was struggling on this show and I don’t know what I would do without her, and I can’t believe I let her take this long for her to let me show her off, but tonight I just want everybody to know I wouldn’t even be here in the first place if it wasn’t for her. I love you Y/N”

The crowd was filled with ‘awws’ as you were left overwhelmed and crying, but yelling out a “I love you!” to Bada.

++++

After the show you met Bada and the team off stage. Immediately you ran to her arms.

You hugged her as she hugged you back lifting your shorter body off the ground.

“They look so cute together!”

“I can’t believe she never told us about her she’s beautiful!”

Whispered Bebe

Bada but you down, the both of you just admiring eachothers faces.

“You’re not mad that I finally publicized our relationship?” Bada asked, a worried cute expression on her face.

You giggled moving a strand of hair to the back of her ear.

“Why would I ever? I’m dating the best woman in the world. Besides I was getting tired of keeping it a secret”

You said annoyingly, she chucked kissing your cheek.

“I’m so mad we’ve gone this long without anyone knowing.”

“Maybe you can make it up to me tonight”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

You don't need to worry about the ATSV fandom dying. As someone whose been in the Marvel fandom over ten years - I can assure you this is natural.

The ATSV Fandom Isn't Dead: A brief look into the science of fandoms.

[me standing beside Hobie beaming my thoughts of love and adoration into his head like I'm professor x]

A lot of people are afraid of the ATSV dying - and I don't blame them.

In the era of shows releasing all in one day, or movies coming to streaming almost immediately - it's not hard to say we're in an era were content is consumed at ridiculously rapid rates.

I mean, this time last year Wednesday was breaking records on Netflix. Where's the hype now?

I know you see it too, there's less posts everyday in the Hobie tag, less screenshot breakdowns, etc etc etc.

But I'm here to tell you - The ATSV fandom is doing just fine. Better than fine. All of this is meant to happen.

Let me put it into perspective.

ATSV released on June 2nd - it's November.

ATSV released a little over six months ago.

For reference: The Avengers (2012) was released on May 4th.

The Avengers DVD wasn't available for purchase until SEPTEMBER 25th - almost SIX months later.

The time that the Hobie fandom has formed and existed - is the same amount of time people had to wait just to see The Avengers again.

Large periods of time where tags only get three posts a day TOPS was nothing to fear. xReaders and fanfics held the fandom over until the next trailer, the next sneak peek or leak.

Prior to the release of streaming, only a little more than ten years ago - it was NATURAL for a fandom to wait six months before even seeing the movie for a second time.

And mind you - streaming didn't exist. If you wanted to see The Avengers again, you had to go out and BUY it. $26.99.

If you wanted to order it online - you'd have to get it shipped to you. Before Disney plus, we watched on BlueRay Discs.

And the fandom was fine and healthy.

If a fandom that doesn't even have a DVD release can keep up content for six months, I think we'll be fine.

But I'll admit - there's still the question:

If the ATSV fandom is 'doing fine' then where is everyone going? Why are the tags getting slower?

The answer is simple:

FANDOM BIOLOGY

I LOVE social sciences and the systems people create and how they work - even unintentionally.

And I have a theory - one about the natural evolution and regeneration of fandom. Hear me out -

When it comes to ATSV:

We are leaving the Analysation Phase, the phase in which content creation is centered around deciphering and breaking down the most recent installment in the fandom.

During this phase usually see art of newer characters, new ships, meta breakdowns, easter egg point-outs.

We were in that phase.

Once the Analysation Phase dies down, usually main content creators may remain. The intermediate or liminal period.

The intermediate is usually when you'll see more x-reader art pop-up, the levels of fanart evening out as artists return to their favorite characters - usually incorporating any new ones they gained from the last installment.

Shitposts usually also become popular around this time, as the shock and weight of the story wear off, and we're more able to joke about the storyline a lot more light-heartedly.

That's why the intermediate point is often see as the passion 'dying out'.

When in fact, it is the fandom getting comfortable. Resting for the next phase.

And after a few months, the next phase comes:

The Speculation Phase:

The Speculation Phase cannot come until the Analysation Phase is over.

During the Analysation Phase the fandom begins to breakdown and digest the writers intentions. They integrate the new character into the story, and the fandom.

As the audience and fandom talk amongst each other, we get more solid ideas of who the characters are, what their motivations might be, and most important of all-

What they might do.

In the Speculation Phase we turn from the last installment - and start looking towards the future.

Let's take Hobie for example.

Looking at the timeline of the Hobie fandom, we can see a progression.

Originally taken as a punk-rockstar and little more, throughout the months the fandom began posting things about punk culture, the 70's, Hobie's motivation in the comics, and how that all correlates to him.

As the fandom analyzed, the collective zeitgeist and understanding of Hobie grew into something a lot more sound, and telling.

We looked at the parellels he provides in the story, and what kind of person he is.

And because if that we have seen a marked improvement in people's contextual understanding of Hobie - as a punk and a hero.

And now that we can understand him - we can predict him.

The same goes for Miguel - over the months, a lot of us have began to question if we know him as well as we think we do , if we really know the kinda person he is -

And if we really know what he's doing to do.

That's where the Speculation Phase comes in.

The Speculation Phase in fandom is when we see some of the most passion - and instead of tapering off overtime, it builds. More and more until the next release.

The Speculation Phase is when the fandom takes the analysis' and from there, they begin to theorize.

Now that we understand, we can begin to predict.

And this is arguably one of the most interesting parts in a fandoms natural ecosystem.

During the Speculation Phase, we can see a number of diverse opinions appear.

As more and more creators begin to gather their understanding, tips from the writers, new released news, and past comic book arcs, we start to see dozens of triguing paths the writers can take us on.

As more news releases, the more hype people get. I mean - imagine how you'll feel when they release the first new poster of Hobie, or Miles? Or when we get to see Miles.G in the trailer?

And with each new poster, or trailer, we're given clues. The theorizes develop more. And the plot thickens.

It's all natural.

So I can understand the fear. Only getting one or two new posts when you visit the Hobie tag can be a bummer. But it's natural and it's GOOD.

Y'all, we need to conserve our energy. We are in the liminal phase. And they never last long.

With the news of the voice actors back in the studio, and a cliff-hanger like we have - I can assure you, it's only a matter of time before we begin to see the theories, the trailer breakdowns, the people guessing what Miguel might do, or exactly how much tech Hobie is hiding.

And when that time comes we need to be READY. I can already feel it on the horizon.

I really wonder what they'll do with all that left over Hobie concept art.

Plus with explosion of Hobie approval, I wonder if they'll add him in even more. Hobie fan-service anyone?

Hmmm...

But chill y'all, we're on the right track -

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

If you read this far, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH!! And as a token of my appreciation, I hand you this Hobie. Hold him gently please

Bye 💗

[boyfhee]

യ CRUSHED : PARK JONGSEONG TEASER

SYNOPSIS : fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. they say if you wish desperately enough for something, the whole universe gets together to give it to you. perhaps, it's the reason why you find yourself back in your highschool, fifteen years ago, with a fluttering love, some lingering feelings, a doting heart, and your first heart break— park jongseong.

or wherein, life gives you another chance with your first love.

GENRE : fantasy, angst, romance, time travel

WC : teaser is 0.7k, est 10k+ for fic

WARNINGS : angst but with a happy ending guys trust me, a lot of mentions of crying, alcoholic drinks, more will be added in the main fic post

NOTES : i knew my jay era would give birth to a jay long fic i say we cheer :› NO BC THIS MAN IS SO FINE just like this fic i'm planning saur. please read. i hope u enjoy the teaser, send an ask / drop a comment to join the taglist

it’s the invitation you’ve been looking at for ten minutes now, standing outside the venue. papers coloured rose, golden letters engraved, names and air spilling with love. it’s the mood of the day, the flow of a typical august wednesday that carries you inside the venue, to the celebration hall. the air inside smells of fresh roses, it’s expected when you see a huge bunch used as decoration in every corner and on table tops. and then you look at the invitation again.

joo miran weds park jongseong.

your best friend weds your other best friend, your first best friend. your first crush. your first love.

the subtle silence in the air was deafening until you see jay sneaking into miran’s suit, or so you assume, although it’s true. from sneaking into her classes to sneaking into her room at night to take her out for a midnight date, sneaking across hallways to catch a glance— just one look, even a fraction of a second is enough— to now, sneaking around the wedding hall to savour that ‘just one look’ at the bride, his bride, as if a lifetime isn’t waiting for them. 

“i thought grooms and brides weren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding,” it’s your voice that stops jay from kissing her cheeks, although you know he would’ve still done it if he wanted to.

“ah well—” he rubs the back of his neck, it’s a habit that gives away his nervousness. habits are hard to change, let alone letting go of one. “do you really expect me to hold back when she looks like this?” and he looks at her as if she put the stars in the sky, or as if she’s a star herself, graced upon earth for him, and only for him. knowing jay, he would say it. 

“you look good too,” you look perfect, you wanted to say. however, you don’t. you don’t know why, it’s normal for friends to compliment each other. you don’t know how many times you’ve called him handsome, you don’t know the last time you called him that. “congrats, by the way,” 

and loving jay is a habit. 

“thanks,” she smiles, looking at you. “wouldn’t have been possible if not for you,”

it’s something you can’t get out of yourself. no amount of blind dates can do it for you, no amount of heartbreaks can colour him bad. 

“no really,” his voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you unconsciously smile a bit more. “thanks for setting me up with miran,” 

no amount of time can push you forward to move on from him. fifteen years, a lost love, untold feelings, a breaking heart— crushed. the world moved on, you did too, yet your heart is still there— gyeonggi suwon international school, fourth floor, the first class from the stairs. fourth desk, the one right next to the window, a view expanded across the school ground, a way for you to watch jay’s football matches between lessons. 

his heart is with someone else while yours is where you realised your feelings for him, left behind— crushed. 

and it’s a shame to live like this, as if there’s no point to life. to hold back tears at your best friends’ wedding, to force a smile when they kiss, to stare from a distance when she threw the bouquet, to cry in the washroom after all is done. head buried in your hands, muffled sobs as you hear a few women talk outside your stall. you don’t pay attention to them, you couldn’t. you had realised you couldn’t pay attention to anything that wasn’t him or about him. so you just sit there, head buried in hands, eyes closed, not paying attention to anything.

yn.

you hear your name. 

once.

yn?

twice.

“yn,” thrice. “are you okay?” and you turn around, it’s the same scenario— gyeonggi suwon international school, the fourth desk by the window, the sunlight falling upon. your eyes meet his, and then his smile. your best friend, your first best friend.

your first heartbreak.

“wanna get ice cream on our way back home?” you nod instinctively, habitually. it’s how things went fifteen years ago when you had realised your feelings for him. it feels the same, fluttering love, lingering feelings, a doting heart, and park jongseong.

crushed. 

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 3

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: not proofread 😗 sorry

———————————————————————

After Regina’s demand that you help her with her math, you set up an arrangement for you to come over after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. Lucky you.

She’s in the lowest possible math class you can take as a junior, so you don’t think the tutoring thing will be too hard. What you’re really worried about is being at her house. The woods were your turf; Regina’s house was completely different territory. God, you wish you never got caught up in any of this in the first place. Not like it was your fault.

What makes it even worse is that Regina isn’t even bad company most of the time. Sure, she’s a total bitch, but she’s funny and some of her stories are entertaining to listen to. Mostly because they’re so stupid. You’d consider her a friend if you could find an ounce of compassion in her and if she didn’t practically ruin your life at school. You had to start eating lunch in the bathroom because even your group of guitar geeks started to turn on you. It was embarrassing, but perhaps a blessing in disguise since you don’t really like talking to them anyway. It was kind of nice to be ignored sometimes.

On Monday, you go back behind the baseball field anyway. You have no way to communicate with Regina and you doubt she’ll want to be seen with you in the student parking lot, so you wait for her to find you.

This was such a waste of time. Lately it felt like your entire life revolved around her. You’re a pariah at school because of rumors she made up, and then right after the bell rings you’re smoking and laughing with her. Just to go home, sleep, and do it all again the next day. You lay your head back against a tree. The days were starting to get colder.

After a couple of minutes, you almost doze off until you hear the harsh snap of twigs under storming feet. Uh-oh. Regina was pissed.

“What the hell? Are you stupid? Did you forget what day it is?” You hear her before you even see her. If she was gonna be like this, you’d rather just go home. You bite your tongue absentmindedly.

“Aren’t I too embarrassing to be seen going home with?” you respond dryly, but you can’t help but smile a bit. She got mad over the stupidest things. If anyone should be angry, it should be you.

“Obviously. But making me walk all the way back here was cruel.” she says with a small raise of her eyebrows, and you realize she’s not really pissed. You’re not used to her joking with you. You flash her a smile.

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” you snide, throwing one strap of your bag back over your shoulder.

“Won’t. Anyway, are we going or not?” Regina says with exaggerated annoyance, turning back around with a grace you’ll never have in a million years. She throws her hair over her shoulder and begins to stalk off between the trees.

The drive to Regina’s house is awkward. Mostly because she makes you sit in the back in case anyone were to see you in the passenger seat. Just about everyone in town knew what Regina’s car looked like, so you can’t say you’re surprised.

When Regina finally pulls into her massive driveway, you’re instantly in awe of the giant house that sits before you. You’ve seen it before on Instagram, but never in person. It has elegant pillars and a round shape that makes it look like a giant jewelry box. You grew up on the poorer side, so it feels like a movie to step into a house like this.

“Ugh. You’re acting like Cady, it’s gross,” you hear Regina complain as you look around the inside of the house with wonder. It’s so pristine that it doesn’t even look lived in. How a child was raised here is beyond you.

Regina seems eager to get upstairs, and you realize why when you see a woman round the corner as if she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. You can tell she’s Regina’s mother almost immediately. They both have bleach blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and a sharp face. Regina’s is intimidating while her mother’s is a bit kinder.

“Ooh, who’s this? Definitely not the usual three!” Regina’s mother asks with sparking excitement, taking a few steps towards you and reaching her hands out to cup your face. You’re sure she’s just trying to be nice, but her hands are cold and her attention on you is uncomfortable. Regina’s annoyance is almost palpable in the air.

“She’s just helping me with math, don’t be gross,” Regina spits out, as if the words were bile in her throat. “Please leave.”

“Okay, sweetie!” Regina’s mother says, her voice still light as if Regina’s tone didn’t phase her at all. You blink in shock at the whole interaction as her hands drop from your cheeks. “Let me know if you want snacks later! Slay the day away!”

You cringe a bit at her use of modern slang, but you instantly feel bad. She’s obviously trying her best.

Regina seems to have the same reaction, just without the pity. She immediately purses her lips in annoyance and shepards you up the stairs, apparently urgent to get away from her mother. This is the first and only time you will ever be grateful for Regina.

“God, sorry about that. She’s so annoying. It’s just like being at school; she literally wants to be me.” Regina scoffs, the perfect mix of annoyed and amused. You hardly even hear her anyway just by the sight of her massive room. It’s probably over triple the size of your own and a lot more majestic. It’s almost regal. If you lived in a castle like this, you’d act like a princess too.

Regina throws her bag on the ground and kicks her shoes off. She’s wearing a black leather vest today along with pants of a similar texture. The whole biker aesthetic she’s got going on clashes with her bright pink room, but somehow she makes it work. She looks good in the leather.

She obviously doesn’t want to start right away, but you’re not trying to stay for dinner so you make her get her math stuff out. Apparently, sitting at her desk is too much effort for her, so you both end up sitting on her bed.

She’s taking Geometry, which you don’t know how that’s even possible for a junior, but it starts to make sense when Regina displays not even an ounce of skill when you go through her review packet. If she’s trying to stay on the soccer team, it’s going to take a lot of work on her part. She doesn’t even seem remotely interested in what you’re trying to explain. You’re biting back the annoyance at this point; she could at least make the smallest effort.

“Regina, you’re not gonna learn anything unless you actually pay attention to what I’m saying.” you eventually snap, putting your head in your hands for a moment as you rub your temple. Proofs were basically just logic and she was even having trouble with that. It didn’t help that you were starving and Regina seemed adamant on keeping her mother from bringing the two of you anything.

“I was at school all day, I’m tired,” she says lazily, pushing the side of her head into one of her palms. Her hair furls up into her hand and she looks straight out of a daydream. How she manages to looks perfectly articulated even while annoyed is beyond you.

“So am I, but I’m here helping you instead of in my bed. At your request, by the way, so can you please just help me out here?” You want so badly to snap at her, but she really does look tired. You seriously can’t believe you feel bad for Regina George, whose biggest problem is staying awake while trying to do homework, but you’re tired too so you kinda get it. She’s basically falling asleep in the palm of her hand until she looks up at you indignantly.

“Do you want to play soccer?” you ask, putting your hands in your lap. Have to scare her into doing math somehow.

Regina seems to think for a moment before pursing her lips slightly. “You are so annoying.” she says, but props her head up to look at the packet again. You smile a bit and point back at where you left off.

It takes a while, but eventually you get some terms down. She’s only doing proofs for line segments so far, so you try to explain to her that it’s basically just a set of directions of how to figure something out. She kind of gets it. ‘Kind of’ will keep her on the soccer team, so overall you’re happy with today’s progress.

As Regina puts her stuff back into her bag, you slide off the bed to get your own. You want to go home, but at the same time, you want to pass out on Regina’s bed and never get back up. It was almost comforting in here with the large, soft bed and the colorfully decorated walls. You bet sleeping in that bed would be like drowning in dough.

Regina frowns at you when you stand up and gather your things. Per usual, you pretend you don’t notice to avoid an unsavory comment.

“Where are you going?” she asks. You bite your lip. You guess pretending not to notice isn’t going to work this time around.

“It’s staring to get dark out, I should probably go.” you say with a shrug. You’d probably have to make dinner for your brother tonight.

“Well, duh, it gets dark out, like, super early now.” she complains, looking at you the same way she looks at Gretchen when she says something Regina doesn’t like. “Come on, don’t be a loser. I wanna show you something.”

You like it a lot more when she’s nice to you than when she’s not, and the small smile on her lips makes her look all too innocent. You know this is just how she lures people in; you’d seen it happen in real time with Cady. But if you were aware of it, then you couldn’t be fooled, right? Besides, you want to know what she has to show you. Your brother was old enough to make his own dinner.

“Fine,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes, and Regina gives you an approving smile. You can kind of understand why people at school seek out Regina’s approval so much. It does feel nice to be accepted by her, even if it’s just by the small gesture of staying in Regina’s room a little longer. You’re not dependant on it like they are, however. It’s just nice to not be slandered by her for once.

You sit back down on Regina’s bed as she looks in her closet for something, supposedly whatever she wants to show you. The bed’s so lush it threatens to swallow you. Your eyes watch Regina’s back as she digs through baskets of what you think to be old clothes. You’d always imagined she would have one of those giant walk-in closets that are almost like another room, but her closet looks similar to yours, maybe a bit more modern.

Regina comes back with a big pink book in one hand and a dangerous smile on her lips. You raise an eyebrow at her as she tosses it on the bed, front cover up. It says “Burn Book” in different sized letters that remind you of those ransom notes you see on TV. You raise your eyebrows.

“What is this? Did you make it?” you ask as she plops back down on the bed beside you. You reach a hand out to touch the letters, but Regina slaps your wrist away before you get the chance.

“Obviously, I made it,” she responds snarkily, flipping open the cover. “I kinda forgot about it until we looked through it a couple weeks ago. Now I can’t stop.”

At first you think it’s some kind of scrapbook until you see the text underneath each photo. Calling people bitches, sluts, shrimps, or whichever demeaning name Regina saw fit. It’s demented, but exactly what you’d expect from Regina. It’s almost like having a catalog of every rumor she’s ever made up. Sure enough, you see your name on the next page. The caption on your page is along the lines of what you hear in the halls every time the bell rings.

“So this is where that came from?” you ask, feeling the annoyance bubble up inside of you again. You were beginning to forget about it after hanging out with Regina so much, she almost seemed like somewhat of a friend.

“Come on, don’t act all pissed about it. I thought you didn’t care.” she says, sounding more annoyed you mentioned it than apathetic.

“I punched you. I obviously care.” you snap in response.

What you expect to come next is an apology. You openly admitted that what Regina did hurt your feelings, although it was more of the fact that her rumors drove away all of your friends. She quite literally ruined your social life, even if she does hang out with you now. If you could even call it that. All she does is smoke your weed for free in exchange for her to not further ruin your life.

But she doesn’t apologize. Regina just scoffs then goes right back to flipping through the pages of the Burn Book, completely unbothered. She really doesn’t care. You know she doesn’t really know you, but you thought she knew you well enough to at least feel bad about spreading false information about you.

You should get angry again, storm off like you did the other day in the woods. But all you do is sit there. Why do you care, anyway? You knew she was awful, inside and out, when you made that deal with her. You know she doesn’t care about how her actions affect people, not even her closest friends. Even if she would be nothing without them. It makes sense she would disregard your feelings just the same.

You realize you’re stupid for expecting an apology from Regina. She obviously didn’t care. It’s not like you were expecting to form some kind of bond with her, but you thought she’d at least recognize you as someone decent instead of the predator she’s made you out to be. Maybe it’s unfair of you to expect decency from someone infamous for being intolerable. You sigh deeply through your nose and push yourself off the bed.

“I really should go. See you,” you say, exasperated, slinging your bag over your shoulder and leaving the room before Regina gets the chance to respond. You think she yells something at you, but you’re already halfway down the stairs. She doesn’t follow you.

It was probably a dick move to leave so suddenly, but you had to get out of there. You know you shouldn’t be surprised Regina doesn’t care about ruining your reputation, but you were starting to think she was all right. You roll your eyes. This is so dumb. You shouldn’t even be giving it second thought. This is just the way that it is now, whether you like it or not.

-

By the time you finish walking home, it’s already dark outside. There’s a pot of mac and cheese sitting on the stove, the light still left on in the kitchen. You guess your brother managed to figure it out.

You’re hungry, but so tired from not eating that all you want to do is lay down. You make your way down the hall to your room. You’re sure you’ll find your way to the kitchen sometime in the night.

You don’t bother to change as you lay down on your bed. It seems so insignificant compared to Regina’s giant princess bed that seemed more like laying on the world’s softest stuffed animal. Yours was like a rock in comparison.

You pull your cart out of your bra and take a couple hits, staring up at the dark ceiling. Everything’s already beginning to feel farther away, but it may just be the illusion of the dark. You can’t seem to get Regina off your mind. It was such a random thing to begin your junior year; you’d never imagined you’d fall victim to one of her rumors in such a devastating way. And then the whole smoking after school thing and now tutoring her. It almost felt like Regina wanted to spend time with you the way she always asks you to stay longer than you had to.

It felt rewarding to have her attention. You can kind of understand the dependence everyone at school has to it now. She’s charming in a way that lures people in, only to discard them after she gets what she wants. You’ve noticed the first few signs of Regina trying to do the same to you, but you’re not sure what you can offer her that she doesn’t already have. Either way, you have to be careful. She could just be trying to get more shit on you to spread around. You can’t fathom why; the worst thing you’ve ever done to her is avoid her.

And the fact she didn’t apologize is really starting to bother you. You feel it’s unfair to see someone every single day, smoke with them, tell them the little parts of your day, and then not even feel bad for turning them into an outcast. Maybe it’s on you for even expecting one. This is Regina George, after all. Even if she did treat you like a friend sometimes, which isn’t much better considering the way she treats Karen, Gretchen, and Cady.

Why you’re still thinking about this is beyond you. Maybe you’re not as immune to her manipulation as you thought. Whether it was positive or negative thoughts, you were still thinking about her. It was really starting to piss you off. Just the fact that you didn’t mind her company anymore was enough to make you mad.

You roll over and stick your nose in another blanket. The weed does its job at making you feel disconnected from your body and you’re thankful for it. This whole mess had you thinking way too much. It was stupid.

Maybe you’ll ask for an apology tomorrow.

[poisonlove]

Finally | Jenna Ortega

Prompt: Uno Night

pairing: Jenna Ortega x reader

Author: I know, is short

My eyes meticulously observe the surrounding environment, the atmosphere becoming tense with each passing second.

We were at Hunter's trailer, enjoying a pleasant evening until things took a serious turn: playing Uno. Georgie proposed a brilliant idea, each of us would stake $50, and the winner would take it all. The excitement was palpable until Hunter started dealing the cards.

In the first round, Emma was the first to be eliminated, expressing her disappointment as she angrily left the table with the lost $50. In the next turn, Joy, Naomi, and later, a turmoil caused by Georgie accusing Jenna of cheating. Finally, Hunter was the last to leave the competition.

Only Jenna and I remained.

The brunette stared at me intently, her brown eyes brimming with challenge and excitement. A small smile played on her lips, her tongue licking the lower lip as a sign of concentration.

Change direction

Jenna throws the card on the table, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The tension rises, and with a lump in my throat, I watch expectantly for the brunette's next move. My eyes see her hand delicately picking the penultimate card, her fingers long and tapered, utterly perfect.

Blue 7

I see the card she drops and shift my gaze to Jenna, the brunette looking at me amused.

By now, I was accustomed to Jenna's gaze: no shame, no concern if she embarrassed you. Jenna looked at me as if she could understand my feelings and thoughts with a glance, even deciphering the cards I held.

"Damn," Georgie mutters, watching the game intently, his knee nervously moving up and down. "Uno," Jenna says, smiling widely, the dimple on her face deepening.

My eyes soften seeing the joy in Jenna's state: a broad smile, bright and hopeful eyes. I had been in love with Jenna for a while now, enjoying seeing her happy, laughing, looking at me amused. During these weeks of shooting for the second season of "Wednesday," we spent a lot of time together off set: drinking, dancing, or watching movies in my trailer after a stressful day.

My eyes look at the plate full of money: $400. I bite my lower lip nervously. I divert my attention from the money, looking at Jenna, who was watching me, waiting for my move, with Georgie nervously by my side. The girls were chatting on the sofas, immediately forgetting their defeat. Hunter watched the game with crossed arms.

I look at Jenna again, who was looking at me with a small smile on her lips.

Despite my strong feelings for Jenna, I was also very competitive, and the prize was truly tempting. Sorry, Jen. With eyes brimming with mischief, I play my ace in the hole: +4. Jenna opens her mouth in surprise and looks at me in shock, Georgie smiling at my move.

"Uno," I say, knowing perfectly well that Jenna couldn't respond to my move as she was picking up the four cards from the deck. Nonchalantly, I play my last card on the table. I won. I WON. I smile widely and stand up from the table, Georgie happy for my brilliant play. "You're great," Hunter says, smiling widely, giving me a high five.

Jenna huffs and sighs loudly through her nostrils due to the bad defeat.

"Is that mine?" I take the money and put it in the back pocket of my pants. "Did y/n win?" Emma asks with curiosity from the couch, looking at me with a smile. "Yes," Jenna interjects, frustrated. "Another match?" Hunter claps his hands and smiles excitedly, Georgie nodding quickly.

"I have to go, guys," the brunette murmurs tiredly, a strange tone in her voice. Jenna gets up from the chair and puts on her jacket, her eyes giving me a quick glance before looking away and smiling at the others. "Tomorrow morning, I have to record," she apologizes quickly before walking towards the exit. "Alright… see you tomorrow then," Hunter says as he picks up the cards, shuffling them. "I'm going too," I mumble quickly, following the brunette.

I wasn't sure if Jenna was angry with me for the defeat; I knew she was extremely competitive. Jenna Ortega was known to be a determined, elegant, professional, and serious person for her work, but many didn't know that behind her mask of a cold and solitary girl was a child who pouted and grumbled about entirely trivial things, like tonight.

"Jen," I say quickly, catching my breath from the sudden run.

Darkness surrounds us, and a beautiful starry sky highlights the full moon. Jenna looks at me with a raised eyebrow, the jacket around her body to shield herself from the cold. The faint light from the moon accentuates her eyes that glitter in a spectacular way. "Hey," Jenna genuinely smiles as soon as she sees me.

"You're not mad, are you?" I ask quickly with concern. I walk more and stop in front of the brunette. "I lost $50," she starts, raising an eyebrow, biting her lip nervously, "but it offends me that you think I could be angry about this," she concludes, looking at me through her long lashes.

"Oh," I open my mouth in surprise, blushing violently for my stupid thought. "I'm sorry, tomorrow I'll make it up with coffee," I say, laughing embarrassedly, and Jenna analyzes me with her gaze, her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

You can't understand the longing I'm feeling right now to kiss her.

"Alright…" she says timidly, releasing her lower lip, smiling, "but to make up, you'll have to do more," she sings with a playful tone, and I smile at her gesture, getting lost staring at her magnificence. Jenna continues to stare at me, her eyes shining in an incredible way.

"So… goodnight," I say with embarrassment, hands in the pockets of my hoodie trying to warm myself, clearing my throat. "Goodnight," Jenna smiles sincerely and walks down the road towards her trailer.

Jenna stops in her tracks, turning around. I look with confusion as she retraces her steps, hesitantly approaching me. "You worried about me… it was kind of nice," she says, smiling shyly, her sweet eyes fixed on me. The brunette leans timidly towards my face, placing her lips against my cheek.

My heart races wildly against my ribcage, and all I could think was that I ardently wished for Jenna to kiss me on the lips.

(…)

"You're really into Jenna," Georgie says, chuckling softly, looking at me with mischief.

"Shut up," I retort with flushed cheeks, my eyes scanning the set for the petite brunette. I release a sigh of relief. I had two coffee cups in my hands, one for me and the other for Jenna. At 7 in the morning, I had read Jenna's message that she was already on set and that we would see each other later. Now it's nine, and I heard from Emma that Jenna's morning recordings were over.

"When will you tell her?" Georgie asks, lowering his voice, his smile fading from his face. "Soon," I say, smiling widely, knowing perfectly well that I'm telling a lie. "Are you sure?" Georgie looks at me with concern, searching for the answer in my eyes. "Yes…?" I reply, questioning? I'm not entirely sure.

"If you don't try, you'll never know the answer… at worst, you aim for other girls," he says with enthusiasm, his eyes trying to make me smile at his statement.

"I know," I say weakly, silently thanking my friend.

My eyes unconsciously turn to the right, immediately finding Jenna. The brunette was wearing her Wednesday costume, her attention on the producer who was telling her how to improve some scenes.

Jenna was simply perfect, even in Wednesday's clothes. Her braids and seriousness made my heart beat faster.

I walk towards her, and Jenna, smiling at the producer, sees him quickly moving away. The brunette shifts her gaze to the approaching steps and smiles as soon as she sees me. I give a small smile and notice her tiredness in her eyes.

"Hi," Jenna smiles widely, her gaze landing on the cups I held between my hands. "For me?" The question sounds surprised and sweet at the same time, her eyes sparkling playfully. Jenna chews her lower lip, looking at me tenderly. "Yes," I smile shyly, offering the cup to Jenna.

The brunette takes the cup, our fingers brushing. An electric shock runs through my body, and I think Jenna felt it too, as she looked at my hand. "Thanks," Jenna smiles with her lips against the cup, taking a sip. She closes her eyes for the pleasant warmth.

Georgie's words echo in my mind, and nervousness runs through my body. I knew I was risking our friendship… but the worst thing she could say is no, right? Forget it all, we laugh it off, and we continue as friends. "Jen, I…" I start, unsure. Jenna looks at me through her long lashes, her eyes staring intensely. I swallow saliva and try to find courage. "Do you… want to…" I stammer, a lump in my throat.

Jenna continues to stare at me.

"See you tonight? Maybe… for dinner?" I ask with curiosity, fear flowing through my veins. I release a sigh of relief, feeling like I had lifted a weight off my chest. Jenna looks at me carefully. The brunette remains silent, her fingers gripping the cup, her eyes looking at me thoughtfully.

"A date?" She says with curiosity, her eyes analyzing my reaction. I blush and look at Jenna with embarrassment. "Yes? If you're uncomfortable, it's okay just as friends," I confess quickly, scared. Jenna smiles widely and looks at me with bright eyes, almost relieved.

"You took your time," she says, winking at me, and I look at her with confusion. "What?" I say spontaneously, and Jenna rolls her eyes at my comment. "I've literally been flirting with you for weeks," she says smiling, amused by her comment.

"Oh…" I affirm with embarrassment, feeling stupid.

"Okay, at 8 at your place?" Jenna taps her fingers on the cup and looks at me with excitement, hope in her eyes. I nod with confusion, and Jenna smiles pleased. She takes a sip of her coffee and places it on a table near the set.

The brunette approaches and looks at me smiling, her eyes bright and sweet. My heart beats quickly against my ribcage, and I watch as Jenna gets closer to me, her hands grabbing mine tightly, almost as if she's afraid I'll run away. I swallow saliva, our noses brushing, breaths mingling. Jenna gently presses her lips against mine, pressing for a passionate kiss.

I reciprocate enthusiastically.

Jenna releases our fingers and grabs my neck, her fingertips holding the grip to get closer to me. I sigh during the kiss and place my hands on her hips, more as a support since I was afraid of fainting in front of everyone. Everyone. We're literally kissing in front of the whole cast, regardless of comments or curious looks.

Jenna separates our lips with a loud smack.

"So, tonight?" She says, smiling widely, lips swollen from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, the wig now a bit disheveled from the intensity of the kiss.

"Yes…" I say breathlessly, smiling widely.

[hellfirexhoe]

Tuesdays? | Eddie Munson x Bitchy Reader

summary: sort of prequel to Wednesdays, Eddie and reader are enemies who like to ruin each other on Wednesday nights, and this is how that situation first started happening (reader and Eddie are both over 18)

3,000+ words

warnings: horndog content so 18+ only please - MINORS DNI, lots of swearing, name calling, degradation, enemies to lovers fuck buddies, rough sex, p in v, protected sex, oral (m receiving), bad writing, skipped meals, little bit of gross eddie, pervy eddie, bitchy reader, v. brief dubcon, harassment, female reader

Series Masterlist

You push your lunch away in disgust as you accidentally look over at Eddie Munson’s table, he’s talking animatedly with his friends, mouth full and spraying food everywhere, his friends are laughing at whatever he’s saying, almost deafeningly loud. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone else in the lunch room, but for you messy eating is a cardinal sin, it makes you feel physically sick. Deciding your appetite probably won’t return your bus your tray, apologize to your friends and head to the library. The rest of the hour passes without interruption and you’re in better spirits as you head to Spanish, nibbling on an energy bar. It’s the only class you have with Eddie, this year’s schedule had been kinder to you than last, last year you were in a majority of classes with him and for the first week or so you’d found him funny, charming even, but the obnoxious behavior and constant tapping on the table had soured you to him pretty badly.

Your usual desk buddy was out sick so you had the entire desk to yourself, until Eddie walked in and plopped down next to you, lunch still around his mouth. Great. You gritted your teeth and turned your whole body away, determined to block out the boy next to you, it was only an hour and then you would be on your way to an Eddie-free gym class, followed by an equally Eddie-free car ride home, to your Eddie-free house. This became a mantra in your head as the lesson started.

Eddie’s class clown routine started about 5 minutes in and by 15 minutes you were contemplating faking cramps to get out of the classroom. By some miracle you manage to stave off the urge to stab him with your pen and focus on the lesson, when the bell finally rings you unclench your jaw, gather your books and flee the room before Eddie has even stopped tapping on the desk. Chrissy is waiting for you outside and laughs at your strained expression,

“Why do you let him bother you so much? He sits way at the back, miles from you. Just ignore him.”

You shake your head, “Marsha’s out today, so he decided he’d keep me company. Fucking insufferable I tell you.”

“Maybe you need to buy some goodies from his lunch box and you’ll be able to tolerate him more.” Chrissy jokes as you groan,

“I’m not buying drugs from the town freak Chrissy, I have better plugs than that.”

“You know I heard the weirdest thing the other day,” You look at her, “Apparently the freak thing extends to the bedroom, like he’s into some kinky shit.”

“Absolutely no fucking way Chrissy. That boy is as much of a virgin as the day he was born, doubt he’d even know where to put it.”

Chrissy shakes her head “Nope, from what I’ve heard its big and he knows how to use it.” She’s whispering loudly to you, eyes flitting around to make sure no one’s listening as you walk the corridor.

“Chrissy Cunningham. Are you really trying to tell me that Eddie Munson has a huge dick?” As you speak your left shoulder is pushed by someone, your heart sinks when you realize it is a beet-red Eddie storming past you both. “Shit. Well now I feel like a total bitch.” Chrissy cringes with you and you carry on to your gym. The lesson passes quickly and the final bell rings out, announcing your freedom.

You and Chrissy link arms as you step out into the parking lot, letting each other go with over the top waves and reaching for each other. She reaches her car first, and doesn’t notice what you do when you look over at your car. Shit. Eddie’s leaning against your car, looking pissed, so he definitely heard us earlier then. You walk over, checking to see you have witnesses,

“H-hey Eddie.”

“Hey Eddie? That really all you have to say?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, “If either of you are so fucking curious about my dick that you want to be yelling about it in the corridor, please feel free to ask to see it.”

“I’m sorry we didn-”

“You didn’t know I could hear your whole conversation? So you’re not going to apologize for being a total bitch, just that I heard it? Nice. Real fuckin’ nice.” Eddie stalks off, simmering.

“Why the fuck are you so mad anyway? Not like we were yelling ‘Eddie Munson has a tiny dick’.” You call after him, taunting him, attracting a small audience. Eddie’s tall frame freezes and he rounds back on you, stepping so close you’re pressed up against your car, a wicked smile on his face as he whispers in your ear,

“Keep taunting me and you’ll find out how big it is when its down your throat.” You’re a little too stunned to come up with a snarky reply for that, and by the time you do Eddie is already across the lot, smile still on his face. You climb into your car and head home for that Eddie-free evening you had promised yourself. Except your mind wasn’t allowing you your reprieve, you kept thinking about Eddie’s words, twisted as they were.

You barely sleep that night and you curse Chrissy for the fact that you simply cannot stop wondering just how big Eddie Munson’s dick is. You were perfectly happy not thinking about that before today, if anyone had asked you to picture him naked you would have managed to imagine smooth hard plastic under his trousers, like a Ken doll, but now you’re wondering about his girth? I hate that girl. You huff as you read 3.14am on your clock.

Somewhere in the night you manage to fall asleep but it feels like minutes have passed when your alarm trills. You manage to drag yourself through the motions and pack on enough concealer to cover an entire cheer squad, hoping to disguise the bags under your eyes. After downing a scalding coffee you manage to perk yourself up enough to get to school safely. You get to Spanish and notice Marsha’s seat occupied by your new desk buddy, Eddie, who has his feet propped up on your side, you stare pointedly at them until he adjusts, tucking his feet under the desk.

“You look like you’ve slept terribly. Guilty conscience or could you not stop yourself from thinking about my dick?”

You don’t reply, which earns a snort from Eddie. “So the second one then. Like I said, if you’re curious just ask.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes.

Your brain is too tired to catch the next words before they escape your lips,

“Fine, let’s say I’m curious. Show me.”

Eddie looks at you wide-eyed, “Yeah, I’m not getting my dick out in a room which is like half full of minors.”

“Not now, you moron.”

“Also this isn’t show and fucking tell, nor is my dick my most treasured possession.” He pauses “Okay maybe only the first part of that is true.”

“You’re so disgusting.”

“Says the girl who just asked me to show her my dick to satisfy some kind of morbid curiosity. Besides, what am I getting in return? I’d hate to disappoint you or ruin my reputation as a freak but flashing you or anyone else for that matter isn’t top of my list of things to do on a Friday.”

You decide silence is your best option, your brain can’t adequately filter your words so you stay mute for the remainder of the day. Eddie, satisfied that he’s worked you up so much you can’t even speak, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his lips. Once the bell rings for the end of class Eddie is up before you, and as you stand to leave he turns around and makes an obscene gesture with his tongue at you, winks then disappears into the corridor. You become intimately familiar with the gesture throughout the day because you swear everywhere you look the metalhead is appearing from nowhere, performing.

“What is that about?” Chrissy asks after she notices Eddie’s performance,

“I asked to see his dick and now he’s harassing me I guess.”

“You did what??”

“I’m tired, my brain can’t filter.” Chrissy is creasing with laughter at you,

“Has it really been such a dry spell that you’re looking to Eddie?”

“No, its your damn fault anyway, I could have gone my whole life never wondering if Eddie Munson truly has a big dick.”

“Oh he does,” your friend Louise appears beside Chrissy and you roll your eyes,

“Fucking fantastic, where have you heard that from?”

As you walk you feel a hand slip past your ass and place something in your back pocket, Eddie walks past you quickly, making it obvious to you that it was him. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and duck into a stall, retrieving a scrap of paper from the pocket of your skirt, the scrawl is messy and barely readable but you make it out eventually, it’s an address and the words “tuesday 7pm wear your cheer uniform”.

Is he fucking with me right now? Does he really think I’m going to turn up at his trailer and worship his dick?

By the time Tuesday afternoon rolls around you estimate you have received about 17 sexual remarks from Eddie in words or gestures and are now planning on going to his trailer to yell at him for being an absolute pig, and possibly murder him. You’re not sure on the second objective, might be a bit too much work for a Tuesday, plus you’d need help to move the body and there would be all those questions.

At 6.45pm you’re getting in your car, decidedly not in your cheer uniform, because that was just too weird. The whole situation is weird, you’re driving to Eddie Munson’s trailer? That he invited you to? You pull up at 7.07pm, trying to exit your car as quietly as you can. Eddie must have heard you, or been watching at the window because he opens the door before you can knock, you step in and immediately poke him square in the chest with a pointed nail,

“What the fuck is your problem Munson?” You yell, “Quit the harassment, you’re being a fucking pervert.”

“You drove all the way out here to yell at me?” Eddie smirks, “You must really care.”

“That’s the thing, I really don’t, you’re just being an absolute pig and I’ve had enough!” You’re breathing hard and squaring your shoulders, you’re so angry with him that your hands are shaking. So Eddie’s next move of pushing you against the wall and kissing you completely throws you off guard, you grab a handful of his hair and pull forcing him to break the kiss.

“Okay. Fuck. OW. Might have misread the moment, my bad.”

“What in the fuck did you think that moment was?”

“I thought you were one of those girls who gets all horny when they’re angry. Evidently I was wrong.” He’s not wrong, you are exactly one of those girls but it’s Eddie. Gross, messy eater, desk tapping until you go insane, insufferable, rude Eddie.

“Fuck. Lets just get this over with.” You sigh as you start unbuttoning your skirt and shimmying it down your legs, Eddie is now truly bewildered,

“Get what over with? What is happening right now?”

“We’re going to fuck. We’re going to get this,” you gesture to the air around you both “out of our systems. And then I can go back to thinking you’re a disgusting pig, and you can go back to thinking I’m an uptight bitch. Sound good?”

Eddie shrugs and starts taking his shirt off, not taking his eyes off you undressing for a second, like his own personal strip tease. He smirks when he catches your jaw drop slightly at the size of his bulge. Chrissy and Louise’s intel had been correct.

“Wait. We need some ground rules,” you pause, both of you now in your underwear.

“O..kay,”

“No kissing when we get down to it.”

“Get down to it, christ you’re romantic.”

“No! That’s the point, this isn’t romance, this isn’t love, this isn’t even a fucked up friendship. This is just fucking because hormones and pheromones and all that other scienc-y crap.”

“Gotcha. Positions?”

“No missionary. Also no pet names, I’m fine with you degrading me but I don’t want none of that ‘princess’ mushyness. And you are definitely not going in me bareback.”

“Definitely not, wouldn’t want to catch whatever evil you have. Safe words?”

“You planning to get so pussy drunk I’d need a safe word to pull you out of it?”

“That’s the hope.”

“Red for stop, yellow for pause.” Eddie nods

“Bed?” You glance around the living room and nod, surely the bedroom would be a little more comfortable. Once you’re in his bedroom Eddie appears a little awkward,

“How do you want to, I mean uhh,” Eddie’s voice trails off,

“Guess I’m taking the lead tonight huh stud?” You drop to your knees and pull his boxers down, making him gasp at your forwardness. You spit in your hand and use it to pump along his length, smirking when you see his eyes roll back and his bottom lip captured by his teeth. You keep him in your hand as your tongue runs over his swollen head, lapping up the drops of precum that had formed, earning a deep primal moan from Eddie. You start to take the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking gently as you pump his length firmly, as he moans and his legs start to shake you suck harder, taking more of his length in your mouth, bobbing up and down and revelling in the noises escaping Eddie’s mouth. Ringed fingers begin to tangle in your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, you appreciate the somewhat chivalrous act and starting taking him deeper, lips down to the base and tip sliding down your throat

“Jesus H. Christ do you even have a gag reflex?” You shake your head, drawing back slightly only to suck him back in, earning a loud cry of pleasure from Eddie. He’s already beginning to sound so pathetic and needy. You pull back, releasing his cock from the vacuum of your mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and he almost collapses back onto his bed, panting, cock twitching as though it was searching to be back in your mouth again. While he’s temporarily stunned you unclasp your bra and drop your underwear to the floor, not paying any attention to where they fall as you climb onto the bed, pausing to grab a condom from the pack on his nightstand. You remember a trick you had learned at a sleepover and put the now unwrapped condom in your mouth, Eddie watches you curiously and then gasps as you use your mouth to sheathe his cock,

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

“You can thank Chrissy for that trick. Practiced on many a banana in the Cunningham kitchen.”

Your hovering above him, pussy just centimeters away from the tip of his cock, about to slide down when Eddie grabs you to stop you,

“I haven-haven’t warmed you up yet, that’s not very gentlemanly.”

You lean down to whisper in his ear “If I want you to be a gentleman, I’ll ask for it. Right now I want you to fuck me.” You grab his hand and place it against your clit and run it down to your soaked hole, “I’m sure I can take you, all those pathetic little mewls you did seem to have done the trick.” Eddie still insisted on sticking his fingers inside you, gathering up your wetness and using it to lube up his cock before sucking his fingers clean, as you slide down you whisper in his ear,

“Such a fucking pervert, licking me up like that.” Eddie’s cock throbs inside you and you moan, loving the pressure of him filling you up. His hands are on your hips, helping you to ride harder and faster until your bodies are slamming against each other, the headboard on the bed threatening to make a dent in the wall, you can see Eddie’s eyes becoming unfocused as he gets pussy drunk inside you,

“Eddie?”

“Hnhmh?”

“I fucking hate you.” His eyes snap back, razor sharp focus now trained on you as he starts slamming you down on his cock harder than before, his fingers dipping between you two to start rubbing your clit, “Do you hate this too, princess.” Eddie utters a forbidden word but in such a sneering way, so laced with venom that he might have just been calling you a cum dump.

You nod, breathing faster as you feel your orgasm building, “You’re bad at this.”

Eddie laughs “Tell that to your fucking pussy that’s trying to throttle me.” Your walls are contracting around him almost painfully tight as you get to the edge of your orgasm, Eddie keeps his pressure and pattern going and within seconds you’re ruined, legs shaking, back arching, crying and cursing as your orgasm wracks through your body. Eddie finishes shortly after you, pulling you down and holding you so tight you can barely breathe.

You slide off of Eddie and catch your breath while he takes the condom off and ties it before throwing it into the bin.

“We should do this again sometime. How do Tuesdays sound?”

You laugh breathlessly, “Wednesday nights work better for me.”

“You’re still an uptight bitch who has no awareness for the people around her.”

“And you’re still a fucking pervert.”

“In that case I’m keeping your panties as a trophy.”

“So disgusting.”

The next day your hips have finger shaped bruises all over them, your lips are swollen and you can hardly sit down without wincing. As you sit at your lunch table you catch Eddie smirking at you as your wince once your body makes contact with the unforgiving plastic. You glare at him and give him the middle finger. Chrissy catches this,

“Oh so it is definitely big.”

You give her a pained nod.

“Huge.”

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (prologue)

College roommate Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 1

summary: Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too.  (roommate! Miguel O'Hara x reader, college-ish au). 

warnings: no warnings, just angsty asf

a/n: this is the culmination of lots and lots of planning and me writing non-stop for a good few weeks. the next part will be much longer, and updates will be wednesdays until further notice. thank you for all your support! If you'd like to be tagged, see this post.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys :D

Join my taglists here <3

wc: 1.1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

rigor mortis,

You're sitting at a diner, the one on 57th. At almost 11pm, it's… quiet. The gentle bustle of a waitress behind the counter, coffee mugs and sizzling pans. To your side, a little old woman tucked into the booth. Bright red lipstick and bold eyeliner against tan skin, wrists heavy with bangles against the counter. It's animated: feather boa, green leather jacket - and you think you spy the padding of some slippers from underneath the table. She clinks and clanks, and it makes you smile in spite of yourself. Peeling walls, cramped booths. Warm. Steady. Pam's Diner, on the corner, but you've got to use the side entrance, 'cuz the front's been bolted shut since the 50s. Don't ask questions.

"Mags, honey… I just want to… can you get your mom for me?" She's squinting into her phone now, nose pressed to the screen. You can only imagine the view from there; a facetime call with a smudge of eyebrow taking up most of the little box. 

It's odd, but you like to sit near the door. Some pancakes, a milkshake, or a bitter cup of coffee now that you're older: people watching, as you've always called it. Okay, maybe it's more than odd . Maybe even serial killer adjacent - people-watching, like the night stalkers in cheesy slashers. But it's fun, looking for a story in everyone that walks in. 

In your hometown, you had your first date in a booth just like this one. Back pressed against once-bright cushions, tight skirt digging into your back, and at 15 you had sat and waited with wide eyes. Waited, and watched. The woman with a blue hair-tie at the counter: a new mom, definitely. She looks tired, a mystery stain on the cotton of her joggers and deep rims around her eyes. A jitter in her hands, and she's probably got a piece of shit boyfriend on the couch; wringing his hands at looking after the little one, at being a fucking dad, for once, and… oh. The bell of the front entrance rings, and another woman walks in, and catches the eye of Blue Hair Tie. A warm smile, a tight arm around her waist. You watch as she takes up the other's jittery hand in her own. Partner? Fling? You know now; it doesn't matter, not really. Hands still, the shaking slows, and they are loved. 

Your date had been late, of course. But  what had been your first in a line of disappointing men is long forgotten in the haze of adulthood. 

"I know, sweetheart-" the older woman in the booth next to you almost shouts, making you jump. "...those are very pretty shoes… but, could you… Hand the phone over to mom, okay?“

Someone answers with cooing and soft babbling, and then there's raspy laughter from the woman near you. It rings off the tiles: sonorous and full-bodied, wraps around you like a warm hug. It makes you feel a little less lonely, for now. 

As of exactly 9.42pm, you are single. A four year relationship, over in the space of less than 20 minutes. A cup of watery decaf, and it's all over before you can finish it. I'll stay at my sister's, and you move out by the end of the month. No theatrics, not a trace of tears. You had wanted to cry, to kick and scream and beg, but more than anything, you were numb. Crystalline and still with shock, at how clinical it all felt. Sitting in your favourite diner, the humdrum of the city just past the glass; it still felt… lonely. And when he left; placed money on the counter, took his copy of keys off the table, and didn't look back ; it was cold. 

You remember what he had said so many nights ago, God, years back, when he was studying for undergrad, and would crack open anatomy textbooks on the little desk in your dorm. He'd trace the lines of your arm, poke the flesh as you'd giggle and recite his notes into your skin. 

that… tickles! what are y-you… ohh my God-

Stay still! This is.. important… 

… I swear, I'll start screaming if you-

Pallidity, cooling, stiffness-

that's it, I'm screaming… I'm gonna do it-

It's not gonna learn itself, baby. Pallor, algor… 

and rigor, right? 

… 

I listen. Sometimes. 

…rigor, livor mortis and decay. The stages of death. 

I thought you wanted to be a surgeon, baby, not the grim reaper. 

Very funny. It's still important to know about these things, no? 

I guess? But if you're gonna be saving lives…

That's not how it works. I'm not God. I make mistakes, people die. I do everything right-

People die. 

Right. Above all, I'm in the business of people. Whilst they're alive and when they're gone, what they leave behind…

…but that's not really your job, is it? And don't give me all that, it's a vocation crap-

I don't know what to tell you. It is. It's bigger than me. 

…it's long and hard and killing you slowly. 

…

Shit. Jamie, I didn't mean to-

Rigor mortis. Post-mortem 'stiffness' or rigidity, which occurs one to two hours after death.

I'm sorry, I wasn't th- 

The summation of unraveling: a temporary stasis, which could be described as 'frozen' in time or place, often mirroring the cause of death- 

Jesus, I'm not trying to fight- 

..where a body becomes a dead body. Colloquially, referred to as Alius Mortem, or; another death. 

The phrase stuck, acting as a cruel count for the eventual decay of your relationship. Resentment, on both ends, had burned out that flame long before the breakup. Jamie was cruel, in some ways. You were cruel in others. 

"Alice! Just wanted to say hi, cupcake; missed your voice… oh yeah… mhmm… she's just like you, can talk for the trees…" With the rasp of laughter in the booth next to you, it spreads the kind of warmth that stings. 

There's a spark of self awareness at the back of your throat; the bitter taste of realisation. It's not meant to feel like this, is it? The end of almost a half-decade of your life, an era, the culmination of decisions good and bad and gray that have led you up to this moment. There should be… passion. Fighting, maybe. Tears. Instead of a supernova, you find yourself floating in the empty vacuum of space: an acrid taste left in your mouth. 

"Oh God, have you and the girls been eating well? Let me come over tomorrow, drop you off some stuff…I don't trust half the crap in that cupboard of yours-" There is love and light in her voice, despite groans from the tinny speakers of her phone. Your chest is hot; something leaden and heavy that sits in the crook of ribcage. Bittersweet, like rotting fruit in the cradle of a tree trunk. 

Maybe it's the coffee. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Over the past few years, a thousand cuts. And now, in the yellow lights of the little diner on the corner of 57th; another death. 

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

@teacoffeeflavored @chuuyara@qiapia@rotten-zombi3@bonbyon @tianyhi @noelsilly @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @peachsteven @thesquidni@fatenpara @verr-uckt @kurakasabe @kamiko32 @mushy-mushroom04@izzys-hawttea@theandromedastar @wicked-futures @truthuntolddd @prettygirlpattinson @hellokittylover202 @angel-eyes05 @lacedinweb22 @starguiders @buggiecrawls @eugeab @tarjapearce @whoreloll @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @ancientbeing10 @shartythefarty@royalhearts

[1d1195]

Dolcezza III

Read the first part here: Dolcezza

Happy 2024 everybody 💕

This is more cuteness imo. A little bit of a sick-fic for those that enjoy that (@tiredinwinter, I'm looking at you 😉) These next two parts are just them learning more about each other and Harry desperately trying to care for her stubborn self. Hope you enjoy 💕

~7.8k words

Be gentle with her. The next message read. There was a pang of sadness that encapsulated his heart and made him wince. As if he would ever—could ever—treat her any way except gentle.

Please. Another ache coursed through him. A plead that no one should ever have to ask for on behalf of anyone.

She walked into the restaurant and noted how busy it was—even for a Friday. But it was odd because there were a lot of empty tables. Not lacking people, but lacking food.

The bar was empty, and she looked around noticing one poor waiter and the hostess running around like there was an earthquake. She frowned and headed to the bar anyway. Normally, she sat by herself and waited until she made eye contact with Harry. Once he made eye contact, he would surely start making food for her. As she approached the bar and took her seat, she realized Harry wasn’t anywhere near the window. It was weird. She knew he liked to get a glimpse of the people in the restaurant and enjoyed getting a view of all the activity. It was never more than five minutes between glimpses, and she would see his excited, smiling face in that space.

But several moments passed before she seriously considered just leaving—it was well beyond the regular five-minute interval. It was weird everything was so out of sorts. There was no bartender, no Harry, and no line of people on the sidewalk despite it being just before the dinner rush. It was obvious something was wrong, and she didn’t want to be in the way if whatever the issue was came from the kitchen.

She slipped her coat off anyway. For a moment she seriously considered just marching herself into the kitchen to see if Harry was alright. Then she realized how ridiculous it was to barge into a place that she did not work at, just to see if the handsome guy that made her eggplant and spaghetti each week was alright. She physically cringed at the idea and shook her head at the thought. How obsessive could she be? Even if Harry was that flirty with her—and would probably do the very same thing, the voice in her head reminded her—it wasn’t her place.

But she was genuinely worried. Usually, the staff had alerted Harry that his Principessa was here. Even though it made her blush and feel silly, she found it utterly sweet. As she tapped her fingers on the bar curiously waiting for way longer than she should have, part of her knew her patience stemmed from wanting to see Harry as much as he probably wanted to see her. It took a lot to admit that to herself as well because she tried not to make it a habit of falling for the first hot guy that literally swept her off her feet.

But she didn’t come in on Wednesday because she was extra busy with work that evening and felt exhausted. She ordered takeout and barely stuck her foot in the restaurant at the time. So other than stolen glances across the restaurant when she left on her errands where she managed to sneak a wave in at Harry across the busy expanse of the cozy restaurant. Harry also may have narrowly missed bumping into her again when he took the trash out last Sunday in hopes of doing just that. Therefore, it had been over a week since she had gotten to really see and chat with Harry as she usually did.

But after another ten minutes of waiting, she decided it was time to just leave. She realized how silly it was for her to be waiting around like that for just a chance of seeing Harry through the kitchen window. Eleanor would be the first one to tell her she should keep waiting. That this was completely normal for her best friend, and she shouldn’t feel guilty about exploring those feelings.

Of course, she chose not to acknowledge why she was feeling that way.

Fortunately, Niall walked by the window at that moment, a hand through his hair as he looked around the kitchen with worry and his gaze swept across the front of the restaurant. He caught her eye as she started to put her jacket back on to leave. “Oh, tesorino,” Niall sighed heavily and shook his head. “M’sorry. There’s no bar tonight,” he said.

She frowned, coming to that conclusion on her own. Maybe she would just order takeout and leave them once more—it would be Wednesday before they knew it and they would probably be back to normal by then. “Oh...that’s alright. I kind of figured. Everything alright?”

He shook his head. “No, honestly. It’s a disaster. Everyone is sick or already had the day off.” he admitted with a shake of his head. He looked distraught and she felt so guilty for even taking the time to chat with him for a moment when he very much looked like he had a hundred other things to attend to. “We think we’re just going to have to close.”

She frowned. “Oh... I’m sorry. Can I help?”

He snorted rubbing the back of his hair with a shake of his head. “Do you have waitressing and/or kitchen experience?” He rolled his eyes feeling hopeless and looking more frustrated by the second.

She smirked and slid out of her jacket once more, slipped it onto the back of the stool again, and hopped down from her seat. She hurried around the bar to the kitchen door and pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she greeted Niall face to face. “Three years in university,” she smiled sweetly.

The worry in Niall’s eyes turned to excitement and he jerked his head toward the rest of the kitchen. “Harry! The answer to our prayers has arrived,” he said with hope in his voice.

“Antonio s’here? He’s magically cured?” He sounded so upset and devoid of emotion.

She giggled. “Um... Not quite,” she answered.

There was a clatter of pans and utensils from behind the shelves and stainless steel dividing the kitchen into sections. Harry leaned down to get a view of the miracle he had been hoping for during the last hour of chaos.

Harry, despite being as worried as Niall was moments ago, took a moment to relieve himself of all stress. The adoration in his eyes made his eyelids droop low over his pupils and he smiled his beautiful, sweet, half smile which made her weak in the knees. “Hi, Principessa.”

Her cheeks warmed as always that beautiful rosy pink and she gave a small, awkward wave. “Hi, Harry.”

“Y’sure y’want t’help with this chaos?”

She nodded. “As long as it’s okay with Antonio and you guys, of course,” she grabbed an apron on the hook by the door and smiled. “Just...give me some orders and I’ll do my very best,” she promised tying the apron behind her back in a knot. She wasn’t wearing the best shoes for waitressing nor cooking but it had to be better than having Dolcezza closing on a Friday night.

Harry returned to his prep work and cooking. “No date y’have t’get to this Friday?” He asked quietly as she washed her hands. “Y’really don’t mind slumming it here?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, grateful she was facing away from Harry while she cleaned her hands. “I’ve...sort of sworn off dating,” she shrugged. “Least for... for a while.”

He frowned. For obvious reasons, this thought saddened him. “Oh,” he mumbled.

She cleared her throat again and turned back to Harry as he stirred the sauces on the stove to keep them from sticking. Almost simultaneously, he was pulling meat from the oven, and somehow chopping onions without injuring himself and not dropping a bit. Niall had grabbed all the things Harry had dropped and tossed them in the dishwasher.

“Uh...” she felt like she needed to console him. Give him hope. Not that he needed it—honestly, if he asked her out, she was certain she would embarrass herself and say something like this is a dream come true. “It was sort of... Eleanor and I discussed it. Logically,” she shrugged. “My... my ex, kind of...” she shook her head. “I was very oblivious to how I was being treated,” she explained. “I thought I needed a break. Plus... being followed for a while? Eleanor is really weary of any guy in my life and without her around... she thinks I’m too trustworthy and—” Harry was staring. He was watching her so intently as she rambled and wanted to ask a thousand questions, but it took her a moment to notice his movements had paused. “I’m sorry. We have a full restaurant,” she smiled sadly. “I’ll... go make myself useful,” she hurried from the kitchen.

She rested her back on the wall outside the kitchen door and took a deep breath. Looking at the ceiling, she wondered why Harry did that to her. Every time they chatted, she revealed way more than acquaintances should and she couldn’t stop herself from spilling her guts to him.

Again, she ignored the implications as to why that was the case.

She caught sight of the other waiter and host. She told them she was helping, she would do her best, and please be patient. This statement was repeated to each customer she interacted with as well. Somehow, gratefully, only the kindest people were present in the restaurant that crazy night.

“She should work here all the time,” Antonio’s nephew was the other waiter—only in his first year of university and looking at her as if she really was a princess. Harry smirked knowing it was the effect she had on everyone she met.

He was glad he could watch from the window again periodically. Harry admired her gorgeous smile, the way her ponytail bounced with each step, and how the apron sinched at her waist so perfectly. Every smile she gave to each party was kinder than the next. She ensured every table she walked by had everything they needed and kindly thanked them for their patience. She was magical. He could see every man fall in love with her as she spoke. All the women complimented her pretty eye makeup and that she was so sweet to help. Regulars finally got the chance to inquire about her and she was just so very sweet—Dolcezza, had nothing on her. Every child that told her a joke, she giggled her heart out. She appreciated their kind patience and told them she was certain she could find a way to make chocolate milk.

Harry adored her from the kitchen.

*

Niall told Harry that he thought she was better than all their current waitstaff. Harry also thought she was better at dicing tomatoes than Niall was. Maybe even faster and better at peeling veggies than Harry was. It was truly a miracle having her there. With little staff and weakening morale, she arrived at exactly the right time. She was skillful, that was for sure. Harry was a bit in awe of her fluid movements as if she worked alongside him all these years.

“Do y’like cooking?” He asked as she helped plate the pasta dishes as Harry had shown her before sending them to the correct tables.

“I don’t mind it. I hate dishes. If I could boil water in a paper pot, I would,” she smiled making Harry burst with laughter. Her cheeks warmed at the sweet sound coming from his lips. “It detracts a lot from me wanting to cook.”

He nodded understandingly. “Y’probably don’t have the right pans,” he explained.

She smirked. “I think I’ve tried every kind of pot and pan there is. Nonstick, copper, stainless steel, ceramic. Nothing seems to work. Or I’m probably just not cooking right for it to work.”

He frowned. “Whatever y’do, don’t use the nonstick,” he said seriously. “That stuff can flake off and s’really bad for you.”

“Noted.”

They worked silently side by side. Niall whistled. “We should have Antonio hire her to peel all the veggies,” he said. “We’d take an hour off morning prep.”

She smiled. “I am in charge of all veggies and apple pie on major holidays and birthdays,” she explained. “Squash, potatoes, carrots, apple pie,” she shrugged. “Multiplied by five or six times a year, plus my regular cooking. I do think I’m a professional at peeling.”

Harry was unbelievably impressed with how quickly she did it. Not to toot his own horn, but she wasn’t a professional chef. Her skill was top notch. It was...well, he was already infatuated with her. This shouldn’t have been so surprising.

Harry didn’t think he could possibly fall any deeper or harder for her, but it wasn’t the case. He was mesmerized by her skill, her kindness, her willingness to help.

She pressed a hand on her stomach periodically and winced. After the third time, Harry frowned as he saw the tiniest crinkle in her forehead appear. “Don’t tell me y’catching whatever is going through Antonio’s house,” Harry frowned.

She smirked. “No... um... I did come in for dinner and... I’m,” she let out an awkward chuckle. “Just a little hungry.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he hurried to the oven and yanked the bread out with the rag he had laying on the counter. Harry nearly pulled the pan out of the oven with his bare hand once he realized the problem. “Principessa,” he said with a frown in his voice. “M’so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I should—”

“Here,” he cut the bread quickly ignoring the warmth. She imagined that would have burned anyone else’s skin. But Harry had told her that he lost most feeling in his fingertips within a year of starting his culinary career.

“Harry, really, I’m—”

“I’m not kidding, kitten. Please,” he said holding the bread out to her. She was about four inches deep in vegetable peels and covered in potato skins and carrot juice, but she didn’t stop peeling. But Harry knew she had a weakness for that garlic bread. “I’ll make y’eggplant as soon as we get a lull,” he promised his eyes so kind and gentle as he brought the bread closer to her lips. Leaving her with no choice, she opened and let Harry feed her while she continued peeling.

It was not the time, but it was like her own version of Lady and the Tramp. It was ridiculously romantic when it shouldn’t have been. It was garlic bread—very nearly the least aphroditic food of them all. His smile took her breath away. She tried not to think about the spaghetti scene from a children’s movie as much as possible because there wasn’t a world in which she was going to kiss Harry around a mouthful of garlic bread.

Even if she really wanted to.

*

There was never a lull, but they were working very efficiently. With little waitstaff and kitchen staff, and the help of the sweet angel bouncing from job to job as needed—especially when she caught one of the dishes inches from the hard counter after it had been misplaced onto the edge of the expo counter for the next person to check.

Harry was grateful to admire her from up close and was utterly relieved when the doors were finally closed, the last takeout order was handed off to the incoming customer, and the last ticket was completed.

Niall munched on the garlic bread Harry kept making for “everyone” to eat with the intention of making sure that she ate when she had a spare second. “We did it,” he said excitedly.

Harry smirked. “We’re closing the next time Antonio is sick.”

“You always say that,” Niall rolled his eyes.

It was true. Every time Antonio couldn’t make it to work it was a suggestion that was floated. But Harry hated the idea of disappointing his friend. They could handle it—Harry and Niall. This wasn’t the first time. But usually, they had more staff than they did tonight. It was the worst it had ever been, and it was the first time Harry considered truly disappointing Antonio (even if that wasn’t going to happen).

If it weren’t for the sweet, kind girl—

“Where’s Principessa?” Niall asked.

Harry frowned and headed by the window to see where she was. Her jacket was still on the stool at the bar, and he frowned. “Uh... I don’t know.”

“Weird she would just leave without saying goodbye.”

“Umm...she left her jacket—I don’t think—”

After a few moments there was a knock on the closed door and there she stood in the dark, holding two large pizza boxes with a smile. The host let her in, and she thanked him kindly as she headed to the bar to lay out the boxes. Harry smirked.

“I know this is your favorite after shift,” she said flipping the boxes open, filling the restaurant with the scent of pizza.

Harry smiled, feeling his stomach flutter knowing she remembered something he had said in passing. “Aw, Tesorino, you’re incredible,” Niall sighed. “Thank you. We would have been sunk without you tonight.”

She smiled. “I’m happy to help. Sorry I was a little slow with the—”

Everyone simultaneously shushed her making her giggle as she nibbled on her pizza.

Eventually, the three of them were left. Niall headed to the kitchen to start cleaning up. It was Harry’s turn; they both knew it. But now she and Harry were the only ones left, in front of the pizza and...

Well, Niall was the best friend and the best wingman that Harry ever had.

“Thank you, Principessa,” Harry said sincerely.

“It was really nothing. Least I could do after you helped with the move and the furniture—”

“Y’don’t owe me anything, kitten. Would have done that...” he shook his head. “M’jus’... glad I get t’be your friend.”

She smiled. “Well, still. As your friend, I would have done all this for you anyway.”

His heart felt so warm. He didn’t love the concept of friend; but getting a thread of her story earlier that evening, he would take it. If she wasn’t dating, then friendship would be more than enough. Being in her life in any capacity was enough.

“Y’must be the best friend of anyone y’meet,” Harry smirked. “If y’did all that for us,” he shook his head. “If Niall didn’t work here, he would never.”

“I heard that,” he called.

Harry ignored him. She shrugged with a gentle smile. “I like helping.”

“I see that.”

She pressed her lips together. “I have two siblings. Both are...well, they remind me of puppies. They have no idea what they are doing. Honestly, my parents don’t know what they’re doing half the time either. So, I had to do a lot of growing up really fast. It was extremely difficult for me to move out and let them live... without me. They miss me a lot, but part of me thinks they just miss me doing stuff for them. I get messages all day long about the home computer, where did we put the tax information from last year, did we get a gift for our grandma’s birthday, and—”

She stopped abruptly again. Like she realized she was talking and wasn’t supposed to be. Harry frowned waiting for her to continue. She bit into her pizza. Harry thought she would talk again, but she sipped from the glass of water he brought her when she brought the boxes in and made no point of continuing. “Is there more t’that? More y’wanted t’say?”

She shook her head and fibbed. She wanted to tell Harry everything. But it was simply too much. “No, it’s...” she sighed. “I’m just a little...” she trailed off and Harry wanted to know how she would finish that sentence.

“Perfect? Too kind? Unbelievably sweet?” He asked.

The restaurant’s main lights were off, just the glow from the kitchen filled the bar area. The lampposts outside filtered a golden glow across the main room but didn’t reach the far back of the bar. So, Harry couldn’t see the pink color of her cheeks that he loved so much. She released a soft laugh. “Well...no,” she shook her head. “I’m not perfect.”

��Notice y’didn’t say anything ‘bout the kindness or sweetness,” he murmured.

She laughed again. “You’re...” she sighed shaking her head. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“S’nothing I did. Y’were incredible,” he told her. “You... are incredible,” he added. They were silent, staring at each other, the sound of the dishwasher humming along with the sound of Niall spraying pots and pans through the window. Their faces were as close as they had ever been to one another. All she could think about was how her breath had to smell like the pound of garlic bread she had surely eaten tonight on top of the two slices of pizza she had just inhaled. Her feet were aching from not wearing the right shoes and running around the restaurant all evening.

But Harry was saying she was incredible, and she would have glued herself to that barstool if Harry stayed there all night. His gaze dropped to her lips briefly and she wanted to know what he tasted like so very badly. Did he wear chapstick? Did he taste like mint? Maybe not after eating pizza, but she would have tasted his cheesy breath if it meant she could lick into his mouth for a few minutes.

“Did you two fall asleep out there?” Niall called.

She jolted away from Harry, no doubt the color pink he wanted to paint his apartment walls with on her cheeks once more. She released an awkward little laugh and sipped her water again. He was still the best friend he ever had, but Harry was demoting Niall to the worst wingman in the history of the world.

Effective immediately.

*

Harry was slowly losing his mind. If he didn’t see her soon, he was going to go certifiably insane. He brought trash out the back-alley way more often—Niall swore he took an empty bag on one of his trips out back. He went to the front of the restaurant way more than he needed to only to see her car untouched and unmoved. He prayed Amazon delivered a box to outside her entryway, so he had an excuse to run it up the steps to her door.

Yes, he wanted to see her. Yes, he was a little... too in love with her for his own good; so quickly and wholly. But really, truly, he just wanted to know she was okay. The thought of someone following her hadn’t really left his mind since Eleanor told him. El was so clearly worried about her friend that anytime he didn’t see her for longer than a day, he thought something went wrong.

He should have just headed up on his own to see she was okay. He should have gotten her number. Honestly, he thought about messaging her through Instagram or finding Eleanor just to keep his distance without seeming obsessive himself. Some of his actions could be considered creepy in the right light. But Harry believed he was different.

But when he did see her, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t being crazy. He would ask her outright if he was bothering her or making her uncomfortable. It was the last thing he wanted. She was wonderful and it would definitely break his heart, but he didn’t want her to think he was just as bad as the creepy person following her.

Part of him thought he was overthinking. They were friends. She said so herself. Eleanor was an excellent judge of character, too. Surely, she would let her know that Harry wasn’t acting normally. While Harry stirred the soup pot and chopped veggies, he thought of all things that were angelically her. His mind wandering to their almost-kiss and how she was always half opening up to him.

“Oh no!” Niall practically sang, interrupting Harry’s thoughts of soft lips and pink cheeks. Harry shook his head of his daydreaming and looked toward him briefly to see what the issue was that had him frowning. He assumed it was just Niall’s normal dramatics. They were out of fresh parsley, or his favorite knife was dull. But right as he glanced away, he saw Niall’s lips pull into a smirk. His eyes danced with delight as he hurried over to Harry. He didn’t have a choice but to look at him as he turned from his current duties to twist fettucine onto the dish with the carving fork. He glanced at Niall unsurely. Like he somehow knew he wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Our sweet Principessa is sick!” He said holding the order slip and waving it in the air like a little flag.

Harry felt a pang of worry course through him like he was the one who felt sick. It made his stomach churn at the thought she wasn’t doing well. Not seeing her since Sunday, when she asked for soup and quietly retreated to her place without so much as a wave of hello.

Harry should have known she wasn’t feeling well. It seemed so obvious now, and he wished he had thought of it sooner. “Give m’that,” he grumbled snagging it from his friend. He placed the fork on the counter and stepped away from Niall’s taunting laughter. Harry read the slip seeing her standard meal along with a paragraph of special instructions.

It’s me upstairs. I’m sick. Can you please bring me the AMAZING minestrone soup? I don’t want pasta but my head hurts. I couldn’t figure out where the soup was without getting the pasta. Garlic bread if you can. It’s my favorite :( Just leave it outside the door. I don’t want to get anyone sick.

Harry thought he was going to be sick just reading it. The poor angel. “Antonio,” he said showing him the slip after reading it twice. Her little frowny face was breaking his heart. “Do you have the key?”

“Harry,” he shook his head with an eye roll. “I’m not letting you into her apartment.”

“I jus’ want t’help her,” he frowned as he voiced his protest.

“If she wants help, she’ll ask,” he said.

But Harry knew that was exactly what wouldn’t happen. He could feel the frown deepening on his face as he started preparing extra soup for her and making fresh garlic bread.

Finally, after several moments of brainstorming, he called Mitch. “D’you happen t’have Eleanor’s number?” He asked his phone while putting the pasta that she didn’t even want into a container anyway. She could eat it when she felt better. He thought asking for her number would follow his thought process of borderline creepy. Eleanor was a good middle step.

“Uh... Yeah... everything alright?”

“Yeah, uh... her friend who lives upstairs... she’s sick,” Harry really didn’t want to explain all the nitty gritty details to Mitch. Not right now. Maybe when they had time to sit and talk about the angel he found to rent above his place of work. He wanted to take care of the pretty, sweet, ill love that was, apparently, in agony upstairs. “Can y’send it t’me, please?”

Within seconds he had Eleanor’s contact info. He hung up on Mitch and hoped that Eleanor would answer on a Friday night. “Hello, this is Eleanor,” she said curiously into the phone. Harry should have given his number to her when she visited a few weeks ago—especially after her request to keep an eye on her best friend for emergencies.

“Hi, Eleanor, s’Harry. Got y’number from Mitch.”

“Oh! Hi Harry! I should have given you my number myself. Is everything alright?” Her voice sounded a little strained and Harry felt bad for worrying her immediately.

“Oh, um... Yeah... nothing... nothing too serious. S’jus’ she put an order in here at the restaurant. Sounds like she’s really under the weather. Can hardly lift her head. D’you think it would be alright t’let myself t’make sure she’s alright? Don’t want t’overstep... y’know her best.”

“Oh Harry, please, please, please do that,” she said excitedly, without hesitation. The relief flooded Harry. He couldn’t be creepy when she so readily offered him to head up to her place. “I didn’t know she wasn’t feeling well... she was editing an article for me earlier,” there was frown in her voice. “I’m going to kill her when she’s better.”

Harry chuckled. “Are y’sure she won’t mind?”

“No... not... you’re fine,” Eleanor sounded very sure. “I swear to God I could strangle her family, her ex-boyfriend, and every friend she’s ever had. She is such a giver and it’s not even her fault,” Eleanor sounded so grumpy. Harry was glad she had Eleanor. More than glad. But it had to be hard to be away from her. “Will you tell me if she needs anything? I’ll have Louis bring it over.”

“Er... I can keep an eye on her... if y’want. M’right here, y’know.”

“Oh, but Harry you’re working,” she said. “I would be... I wouldn’t be her best friend if I didn’t say she wouldn’t want to bother you.”

Clearly, his adoration for the pretty girl wasn’t as obvious to her best friend as he hoped it was. “S’okay. Er... I would prefer I help her... s’not a bother either,” he assured her. “M’worried ‘bout her.”

She made a clucking noise. “Aw,” he could hear the slight hesitation in her nonresponse. They passed the dinner rush as it was nearly nine at night. Now it was the late-night dinners and after dinner drinks and apps crowd that was heading to the restaurant. Niall and company could handle whatever was thrown their way. Plus, Antonio would be there for at least another hour. It would be easy for him to head upstairs. Part of him wondered if she had possibly waited till this time because maybe she knew that Harry would be willing to come deliver her food. “El, her food is going t’be another minute. Could y’call her...? Then, text me if she would really hate it,” he suggested.

“Okay, that’s a good idea,” she sounded surer about the plan he outlined. Eleanor released a deep sigh. “Harry... If I didn’t think she would bite my head off, I would tell you to barge in. I want you to know that.”

He smiled, relief filling him. He didn’t want to come off as creepy by any means. He adored the pretty girl that he ran into each day. All he wanted was to help take care of her. “Thanks, El.”

Harry was packaging all her food carefully in a bag. Waited a few extra minutes, minding some of the appetizer orders while he gazed at his phone with anxiety coursing through him. He would have to have Niall deliver it if Eleanor told him not to go in. The thought of his poor Principessa sad, sick, and in pain had him feeling nearly as terrible as he imagined how she felt. If he couldn’t help, he would just feel worse and wouldn’t be able to leave outside her door without so much as making sure she was alright.

Please, see yourself in. She said the door is unlocked... don’t ask me why. That makes me so stressed out. It took some convincing that you weren’t bothered. So maybe remind her of that. His phone read. He sighed with relief.

Thank you, Eleanor xxx

Harry...

The typing dots disappeared and then reappeared. Harry watched anxiously once more. It felt like he was about to be in trouble, which made no sense, but this was her best friend. She had to like him or there was no future that he could possibly think about.

Be gentle with her. The next message read. There was a pang of sadness that encapsulated his heart and made him wince. As if he would ever—could ever—treat her any way except gentle.

Please. Another ache coursed through him. A plead that no one should ever have to ask for on behalf of anyone.

She’s my best friend in the whole world and no one treats her the way she deserves.

Harry felt his heart swell and ache with the need to wrap her in a blanket and protect her from everyone and everything.

I will, Eleanor. I promise.

He really hoped Eleanor knew how much he meant it.

*

Harry gave a wave to Niall and Antonio and headed around the corner to the entryway on the side of the building. It took every bit of restraint in Harry to walk slowly up the steps so as not to spill her soup. All he wanted was to teleport to the top.

If she was up to snuff, maybe she would have heard the creak of the floorboard outside her place. Maybe she did hear but was too weak to acknowledge it. But Harry knocked, and waited a minute just in case she was well enough to answer the door. After no response, he cracked the door open. “Principessa?” He called gently. There was hardly any sound coming from inside...just the hum of the heating ducts. He had been in her apartment several times to help with anchoring her furniture and with Leo, but this seemed personal and as much as he wanted to burst in there and scoop her in his arms, he really did wish she could invite him in herself. “Kitten, angel? M’gonna come in. Brought y’soup and garlic bread,” he spoke softly in case she could hear him. The last thing her aching head needed was someone shouting. He closed the door with a soft click.

“Hmm...” she hummed. Harry realized the lump on the sofa was hers and not a pile of blankets and pillows. “Harry?” She asked. Her voice could hardly get his name out. Harry frowned.

“Hey Principessa,” he cooed and put the food on her coffee table. He crouched in front of her and pulled the blanket carefully away from her face. Her hair covered her eyes and cheeks like a cobweb. She was adorable, even if she wasn’t feeling well. Harry gently pushed her hair away from her eyes so he could see her. However, her eyes remained shut. “Heard y’weren’t feeling well,” his face was pinched in concern. A pucker between his brows, lips pursed as he scanned her.

“Mm...” she answered with a grunt in response.

“Let’s get some food in you, yeah?” His voice was gentle. “Can I help y’sit up?”

The blankets around her were radiating heat. It might be hotter than the soup he brought. The poor thing. She was in a T-shirt and pair of joggers. “M’cold,” she whispered, her throat sounded scratchy.

His frown deepened. “M’sorry, Principessa. Have y’had some medicine?” He asked pressing his hand against her forehead not liking the heat that came off her skin.

She shook her head just once. “I don’t have any... I gave it to someone at work. Their kid was sick,” she explained. “She’s a single mom—”

“I get it,” he didn’t want her to talk longer than she needed. The story wrote itself. She was too kind and generous for her own good.

“I guess m’too sick to get any,” she frowned her eyes welling with tears. “M’head really hurts,” she whispered.

“Oh, kitten,” he pouted. “Why didn’t y’call me?”

“S’just a bad cold. I didn’t want to bother any—”

He sighed in frustration. He closed his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay,” he whispered, running his hand down his face. He would complain to her about that at another time. When she was able to comprehend that she wasn’t a bother. That he would have dropped everything to help her. “M’gonna go get y’some at the store—”

“Please don’t leave,” she sniffled, her hands gripping his forearm. Harry turned to look at her as she rubbed her thumb on his skin almost unknowingly. The tears clung to her lower lash line, and they wobbled as she sniffed. If she cried, Harry would be done for.

Well, there was no way he could dream of leaving her side, now.

But he was worried about her head and her throat. He didn’t want her to get worse—especially if it wasn’t just a cold and they would need to get medical attention at some point. He would gladly carry her down the steps, but he imagined it would be hard to carry Leo up and down the steps—a full grown person would prove a lot more difficult. He removed her hands from his arm so he could cup her face and brush his thumbs below her eyes to get rid of the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. Her skin was warm, but he noticed she leaned into his hold ever so slightly. His heart pounded with how much adoration he had for her. Sick and all. “Principessa, we gotta get y’some medicine,” he reminded her—even if he didn’t want to leave, medicine was going to be needed for her to get better from the look of her. She shook her head.

“Don’t leave me,” she repeated with another sniffle nearly severing his heart in half. “Please,” the quiet sound of her begging nearly broke his heart. Poor thing. Harry could feel his resolve crumbling from her distress.

“Okay, kitten. Okay,” he sighed rubbing his forehead trying to think of something else. “Let’s get some soup in you,” he sat beside her upright figure. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief that Harry wasn’t going to leave. He frowned at how vulnerable she seemed. But worse how much he liked it. The sweet girl was never like this with Harry. It was nice to see her just giving in to how she felt.

Harry pulled the lid from the container of soup. The steam coming off it was just what her sore throat and achy body needed, he was sure of it. He let the soup cool down for a moment on the table while he wrapped a blanket around her shivering frame. She seemed so fragile.

“I don’t feel good,” she reminded him, as if he could forget.

“I know, Principessa. M’sorry,” he grabbed his phone to text Eleanor between bites that it would be really helpful if Louis should come by and bring her some medicine.

He’ll be by in twenty. Eleanor’s response was immediate.

Harry grabbed the soup and blew on the spoonful he scooped up before bringing the spoon and container toward her to prevent a spill. “Here y’go, kitten,” he murmured. She opened her mouth and didn’t even mind when it burned her tongue ever so slightly.

The warmth felt so good on her sore throat and felt like it was healing her achy body. “Never been this sick,” she told him sadly. “I usually can keep doing—”

“Jus’ relax, Principessa. M’here,” he interrupted giving her another spoonful of soup. “S’okay t’need someone,” he reminded her. “S’okay t’ask...me if y’need help. I’d... do anything for you.”

It wasn’t fair that someone like Harry was so pretty, so nice.

She wasn’t sure she knew how to be taken care of; the fact Harry was literally spoon-feeding her soup nearly hurt her chest and made her feel like such a burden. Harry was missing work to tend to her. It was just a bad cold. She could handle it.

Maybe if she had medicine she could. But she felt useless right now.

If she could let her guard down to even herself, she might have been able to admit that Harry taking care of her felt... so good. He was so gentle with her and kept feeding her soup with the softest of smiles. His eyes were so kind, and it felt like he was feeding her a spoonful of sweetness directly from his heart each time he placed the mouthful on her tongue.

“I don’t even think my mom ever did this for me,” she murmured. Harry frowned, taking away the gentleness that she was so enamored with the moment she saw it. She wanted it back. “Thank you,” she whispered hurriedly. He smiled again, making her feel better about the moment she just ruined. “It’s really nice, Harry,” she whispered. He put the soup aside and trailed his fingers through her hair. He took the hair tie off her wrist and carefully pulled it back to it was out of her face allowing some air to touch the back of her head. “I know this isn’t my best look,” she managed.

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Still think y’beautiful,” he mumbled smoothing her hair down in its ponytail. He grabbed the soup again and brought another spoonful to her lips.

“Think you need your eyes checked,” she murmured.

He smiled and shook his head. “M’gonna crack this shell of yours, Principessa. S’all I can think ‘bout.”

“Cracking my shell?”

“No. Jus’ you.”

She sighed. She knew her face was blushing, but it was probably impossible to tell with the warmth in her cheeks from her illness. She nuzzled into her blanket more.

She was vaguely aware of a knock on her door, Louis appeared with a smirk and dropped a bag of medicine on the coffee table. Harry headed to her kitchen, placed the other container of soup, pasta, and such into her fridge. Louis sat on her coffee table and chatted with her. “Y’okay, love?” He asked.

She nodded. “Thank you. Sorry I bother—”

“Stop,” he shook his head, and his voice was so much firmer than Eleanor’s. It actually stopped her sentence. Harry would have to remember that for later. “I wish you told me earlier,” he leaned over pressing a kiss the top of her head. Harry was immensely jealous but tried to brush that feeling away because he was merely her friend and he had pecked her cheek the other week without so much as asking. “Only have a few more weeks of taking care of you, you know,” he reminded her.

She frowned. Eleanor and Louis would be in their new town. Maybe she should have just moved with them. “Yeah...”

“I’ll have to pass my duties off to Harry,” he winked in Harry’s direction. Harry smiled.

“Mmm...” she hummed. That was a good point. If she moved, there would be no Harry. Maybe ignorance was bliss, but she thought she would miss knowing someone like him.

He brought a glass of water back to her and read the description of the five different medicines Louis had laid out on the table, finding which one would be most suitable for her right now. “Jus’ gonna use the restroom,” Harry said quietly and left the pair for a moment.

“You like him?” Louis asked her quietly.

She nodded. “A lot,” she admitted.

“He’s nice,” Louis nodded in agreement. “El likes him a lot,” he smiled.

Her head was still aching, and she really didn’t have much mental capacity to talk about how much she liked Harry. But even though she felt utterly sick and looked pretty uncomfortable, Louis could see how much she liked him. She shrugged. “I don’t... I don’t know, Lou.”

He shrugged. “Just get better first,” he winked. “I’m going to see myself out. Feel better. And seriously, let me know if you need something else,” he looked at her pointedly. “You’re not a bother,” his tone was heavy, and she felt herself blushing.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank Harry,” he winked again as he closed the door behind him.

Harry returned within seconds after Louis’ departure. He sat beside her again. “Y’okay, Principessa?”

“M’sorry for bother—”

He cupped her face again and gazed at her tired, sickly written eyes. Her voice died in her throat. “You,” his voice was so quiet, so soft, “could never bother me, Principessa,” he whispered. She felt like her achy body had turned to mush. It should have been illegal for someone to look at her like that, to make her feel like this. Especially while she was sick. “Okay?” He asked.

It still didn’t feel okay, and she was a bit delirious from her aching head and achy body. But she nodded once and swallowed trying not to let the emotion bubble too far out of her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered.

“I really like you, kitten,” he skimmed his thumbs across her cheeks in unison. She felt so delicate. Harry was treating her like she was glass. She had never felt like this. She was obviously sick, and she was sickly in love with Harry too. She didn’t want to do this right now when she wasn’t feeling well. Her mouth frozen and voice unable to speak. Poor Harry mistook her silence for unreciprocated feelings. “M’sorry, I know y’not feeling well,” he dropped his hands from her face. “Shouldn’t do this right now,” he chuckled awkwardly.

Her face felt cold without his hands caressing her cheeks and she missed it. Even though she knew she shouldn’t really feel that way. She frowned and looked at him as he sat back on her couch stiffly. She felt horrible, he felt rejected. Like it was possible to reject someone as kind as Harry. She pulled a pillow from behind her and dropped it on his lap. Her head followed the pillow, and she curled up half on the couch, half over his thigh. She faced his stomach, covered with a shirt that smelled like garlic and tomato sauce. There were specks of flour from fresh pasta. She could tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands, they hovered by his sides trying not to touch her.  

“I-I really like you too, Harry,” she whispered softly.

He sighed with relief making her smile. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” one hand landed on her hip and the other stroked a space of her hair against her scalp. It felt magical and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was sick and felt sad or if she would have felt this way if Harry was here while she was well and touched her anyway. Harry brought her blanket back on top of her, making her feel suddenly exhausted from being awake for the last hour. “M’sleepy,” she mumbled.

“Go t’sleep, Principessa,” he hummed gently.

“You can turn on the TV or move me if you get bored and need to leave or som—”

“Go t’sleep, kitten,” he repeated ignoring her completely and cutting her off entirely. She closed her tired eyes and within moments she was out cold. Harry still touching her hair.

Reaching right into her chest for heart and touching her there too.

--

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[tookthe-405]

VBS

Prologue :

“Sun bleached Flies” ~ Ethel cain

DAILY CLICK🍉🍉

DONATIONS AND INFOS🇵🇸

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

PLAYLIST

summary: you grew up religious without a choice, and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chapters!!! , religious trauma, homophobia

1,1 k words

24/11/2004

Age 16 Reader pov:

"And as the Bible says in Micah 7:7: But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior, my God will hear me"

Your eyes burn, not because you are crying, but because of the very bright spotlights that are shining on Pastor Tobias. The youth lesson takes place every Wednesday evening and today's topic is faith and trust.

The paper and pen in your hand feels heavy and rough, you should have already written down what you’ve learned new, but your head is just so empty today.

As it has been so often in the last few weeks, which makes you feel guilty and ashamed again. You stare at the blank page and don't feel anything, that you could put into words and on paper. You can think of many questions that you would like to ask, but are too embarrassed for.

"hey is everything ok?"

your head follows the whispers next to you. Hazel looks at you worried. This girl is the only reason you enjoy being here, and there is no judgment in her look.

“I’m a bit stuck on this today” you whisper back and point at the empty paper, she nods.

you could feel the eyes of the employes. When sermons are held it is always very quiet and all these people you grew up with are listening to the man in front of you, the faintest whispers can be heard. You quickly concentrate again and look ahead.

"We're closing the sermon today with a prayer and the requests that you gave us"

On the board next to him are various prayer requests that the young people brought to the lesson. But a few of them catch your eye more than the others.

- Please release me from the shame within me - Let me grow with your word - The temptations of the evil one shall not harm me

The prayer lasts 7 minutes and your mind keeps wandering. When you pray, you always forget where you are and feel a bit stuck in your head. That's why you've given up the habit of closing your eyes, which helps you to ease the restlessness in which your inner self is bursting. You can't get rid of it at anyway. You observe the people around you a bit. You know every face all too well, the reason for that includes going to a the private Christian school and the many prayer evenings that your parents and siblings like to attend to.

When praying, each face shows a small part of the person. Some look deep in thought, others look as if they were about to burst into tears at any second and one or the other sit on their seats with a contented and calm expression on their faces. You would give a lot to feel whatever they are feeling.

Hazel's expression reminds you of a frightened animal that has just been captured. She was one of the fearful prayers.

All you wanna do, is try to get her out of this state and keep her safe with you, but you know that you can't do that for her. Only the god she prays to can do that.

"Amen"

“Amen” everyone says together and the word leaves your lips quietly.

Everyone stands up from their seats and whispers spread. You know all these people and you knew from your private life that some of them weren't good people, but the church seemed to change that completely. At least for a short time. As soon as the free time begins, you notice that the facades are falling again. This has always confused you a bit.

Two years ago, so many people were converted here, that the church was rebuilt and there were now many different rooms for different concerns. There was the sermon Hall, which is full every Sunday and is used for worship services. There is also a kitchen and dining room with couches. One floor higher was the room for the young people, which is used every Wednesday to pray, study and spend time together. A few couches and many chairs with tables.

The whole youth group is there and a few people start to play games. Some have a religious background, some don't.

After the sermon, you and Hazel go from the sermon hall to the youth room, where a few people from your class have already made themselves comfortable on the couch and seats. At school you always talk to Hazel, who is a very social person and that's why you are forced to talk to other people as well.

Samuel and another boy are talking as you both sit down on chairs, and the whole group seems interested in the conversation.

"My mother said that, Pastor Tobias told her on Sunday"

"What's going on?" Hazel's gentle voice asks Samuel.

He excitedly turns away from the other boy and addresses Hazel.

"My mother said that we were going to a camp this summer, we young people, there was a lake, forest, church, everything"

“Do we have to camp?” Asks Kate, a girl in a class below you.

The thought of having to go camping immediately puts you off, but you'd have to go anyway if it actually takes place.

After all, Samuel talks a lot but it doesn't always reflect reality.

"She said there is a youth hostel with lots of rooms, but they are shared."

You could live with that. Hazel nudges you with a smile. Now the excitement hits you too, if you and Hazel are in the same room together, swimming in the lake all day long and there were going to be funny events, it will definitely be pretty fun.

You smile back excitedly and the other people around you seem to be looking forward to it too.

“Have you heard of Anne Marie’s husband?”

The group becomes quiet and looks at Sofia, with a thoughtful look and crossed arms.

"A few people from church mentioned something but I don't think it's true," Naveah says next to her and rolls her eyes, but Sofia shakes her head confidently and leans forward.

“My brother said it was true, he was there at the prayer meeting for him” Naveah’s face falls and that made you a little nervous.

"what?" ask someone, but you won't know who.

"They prayed that his homosexual desires would disappear"

The room generally seems to become a little quieter; the other groups of friends also seemed to have heard the word, which had probably never been uttered here before.

The tense atmosphere spreads through the room like poison and you hold your breath.

" I didn`t knew he had such disgusting thoughts"

you are too shocked to notice who said it, but you still clearly hear the others agree.

“The sin is disgusting, but we should pray for him,”

Austin decides, but his gaze seems a little concernt.

After the prayer you feel emptier than before, almost as if you had been sucked dry. Your thoughts left more marks and you knew what you would pray for tonight before you went to sleep.

INTERACT WITH THE LINKS ABOUT PALESTINE 🇵🇸

a/n: this is a bit more angsty and can trigger some people so pls read the warnings!! I felt a bit uncomfortable too writing it, but it’s still important to talk and write about it, because it is reality!!!

!!!Pls Reblog and like!!!

[crazycatgirl420]

Fuck Around, Find Out

Ghost King Danny tutors Impulse, Bart Allen, in Summoning magic after a horrible drunken Summoning disaster.

Part 1

Monday came much too soon. Danny had spent his weekend preparing his first lesson for Bart, considering he was so deep in his non-belief of magic that he nearly started a war, Danny decided they would have to start with the basics as taught to newly formed entities in the Realms.

Danny removed his pc and monitors from his desk, snapping on a white board attachment and putting several notebooks, pens, pencils, and markers in the drawers. He held his folder of lesson plans and his own notebook. At exactly four o'clock he put one hand on the desk and appeared right in front of his Contractor.

There was a crash sound behind him, and a wide eyed red-head on the couch, a game controller in his hand.

"We agreed on four to six for your lessons." Danny reminded him. "We have a lot to cover and I do not want to spend my entire existence teaching you."

Thee human grimaced but nodded. "What are we doing today?"

"You'll be learning to read and write," Danny said. "Magic is its own language, if you don't know it you can't effectively use it."

Bart spent two hours copying the Infinite Realms Dictionary of Magic into his first notebook while Danny read it aloud.

"There are six hundred and seventy languages used in this dimensions magical script," Danny explained. "As a living being born of this realm you only need to be fluent in those six hundred seventy languages, which is a lot less than what I had to learn as a being of the Infinite Realms-"

Bart paused in writing, glancing at the book he was copying from. '670 Alphabets, Beginning to End'

"I'll leave you with the Dictionaries to study in your own time. On Wednesday we'll go over grammar, and Friday we'll practice speaking. You'll have the weekend to practice as you wish and next week will be your first set of tests,"

"Tests next week?" Bart asked. "After only three days of lessons?"

"This is easy stuff," Danny said. "You're magical friends learn this as young children before they even choose a specialty."

Bart had a week to learn six hundred languages. He couldn't believe Raven or Zatanna knew all these languages, and only a week to learn them all was insane.

"Keep working," Danny said. "We don't have time for you to change your mind now. You signed a contract, I can't even explain what that entails until you understand magic script. The gibberish you scrawled on the floor in your drunken Summoning could've been the end of your deminsion and every deminsion that surrounds yours."

Bart kept writing.

Two hours for Bart tended to feel like an eternity but Phantom taught at the same speed Bart lived his life normally. There was no slacking off for milliseconds waiting for outside time to catch up. Phantom kept up, as soon as Bart finished a notebook another was handed to him. Phantom recited the dictionary and passages on culture, history, and traditions with ease, asking questions and having Bart read the passages as he copied them down.

"You have until I return on Wednesday to learn all six hundred and seventy languages here." Phantom said, pulling several stacks of books out of the desk. "Feel free to ask those magical friends of yours about magic script of you don't believe me, though your inability to believe them was what lead to this in the first place,"

Phantom left just like he has appeared, with a flash of light and an ice cold breeze.

Bart groaned, eyeing the stacks of books with regret. This was going to be a lot of reading.

[they-call-me-emmy]

Stars

JENNA ORTEGA X GN! CO-STAR READER

"Work buddies, that's all."

........................................................

Y/N POV:

God, you never expected to actually get the job. You'd auditioned almost for fun.

You were a small actor. usually played background characters, or main characters in lesser known movies. So when you signed up for Wednesday, season two, it was almost a joke.

Until you made it.

You'd been told only a month before shooting. Which, this alone shocked you deeply, as now you had to travel to Romania. What shocked you even more was the fact they didn't give you the role you had auditioned for.

They'd given you Wednesday's crush.

They told you it was a big role. One of the leads. You'd be an important character, so if you couldn't accept the role, tell them now.

So you accepted it.

......

Meeting Jenna Ortega was probably the most exciting moment of your life. She was excited to meet her partner for season two, and had come bounding up to you happily, headphones around her neck and a big smile on her face.

"I'm Jenna!" She told you excitedly. Her dimple was deep, her eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Y/N" you grin back, reaching out your hand to let her shake. She accepted it, your hands gracing each others, sending a spark through your arm.

"You're gonna be my crush in the show, right?!"

You nod, confirming her suspicions.

"Here, you can go over there to get a script. They want us to read them a lot, and if you need anything, I'll be in the make-up room." She told you, pointing to a table filled with stapled papers, and then to a room labeled "MAKEUP AND SPECIAL EFFECTS"

You nod again. "Thank you!"

"No problem!" She said, before skipping away. She must have had caffeine this morning, she'd never seemed this hyper in any interview or video you'd seen of her. She'd always seemed so laid back and chill.

Emma Myers suddenly stood next to you. You'd met you yesterday, and the two of you had quickly bonded. She read the confusion on your face easily.

"She definitely likes you." Emma stated, rolling her eyes.

"I would hope so, since we're working together for the next god knows how many months."

"No..." Emma sighed, facing you. "She LIKES you."

"No she doesn't!" you respond, scrunching your face up.

"She's never been that hyper in her life."

"She probably had coffee today." you tell Emma. "Like, a lot."

"She doesn't like coffee."

"Energy drinks."

"She has to maintain the sleep deprived Wednesday look anyways."

"Isn't she like, 20? No 20 year old I've ever met still leaps around because of a crush."

"She's 21." Emma sighs.

"We barely know each other."

............

"CUT!"

Jenna sighs, looking at you. "I swear, if we have to do this take one more time, someones losing their tongue."

"Woah!" You exclaim, tossing your hands up. "Don't go all Addams on me now, Ortega!"

She giggles and shakes her head. "I make no promises."

Time with Jenna was nice. You'd never thought a big-time celebrity like her would be fun to hang out with. You always thought they were work, 24/7.

But she was cool.

..................

"So...uhm, I was wondering if you'd...maybe you would...go...would you go to...to the cafe with me....like...the cafe with me...on a...on a...a date maybe?"

(Me speaking to my boyfriend be like)

You giggled, the actions reminding you of her scene last season where she had to ask out "Xavier".

"Yes Jenna, I would love to."

Like a scene straight out of a fucking show.

.............

"Hi Y/N!" She said, clutching herself tightly and smiling.

"Hi Jen!" You respond. She blushed, from the cold or the nickname, you couldn't tell.

She was wearing a brown jacket, her nose pink from cold. She had headphones around her neck and a smile on her face.

"So, the cafe..." She started. Pointing to a small shop, she said, "That way!" She quickly bounded off, leaving you in the dust.

"Jenna, wait!" You cry, quickly speeding after her. Luckily for you, she had short legs and you easily caught up with her.

Out of breath, you both stop in front of the cafe. The cold allowed you to breathe out puffs of chilly air. Jenna's cheeks were pink.

"We made it!" You mumbled, leaning forward and pushing the door open. You held it open and let her pass through.

"Thank you." She whispered to you as you followed her inside.

"No problem, m'lady." You joke, spotting a table for two and rushing to grab it.

You both sat down, facing each other.

"Do you wanna go order something...?"

Jenna nodded. "What do you want?"

"Uhm, just like a muffin or something."

She nodded, running into the line and shooting you a smile and a thumbs up.

You chuckle and wave back at her.

She orders and sits down at the table, handing you a muffin and seems to have bought herself a cookie.

"How much do I owe you?" You ask, taking a bite of your muffin.

"My treat." She whispers, wide eyed as she bit into her cookie.

....................

"I had fun today," Jenna said happily, skipping on the pavement.

"Me too," You chuckle. "We should do this more often."

She squeals and nods.

"Definitely!"

.......................

WOW MORE TRASH!

fuckn sucks ass bro

its okay tho because im 13 and suck at this shit.

[its-time-to-write]

This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know. 

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

— 

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face. 

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt. 

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging. 

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory). 

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

— 

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind. 

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry. 

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen. 

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.” 

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and  neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour. 

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting. 

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.” 

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days. 

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit. 

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.” 

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!” 

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room. 

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

— 

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him. 

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.