#veronica hastings x you

[oneshotnewbie]

I have no idea if I’ve already requested this. So sorry if I have. But could you do Veronica Hastings with a younger shy reader who is friends with the girls (after high school, obviously not a minor) and the girls find out about their relationship and get upset, so Veronica comforts the crying reader and then confronts the girls ( nobody hurts her babygirl) and it all works out??? I love Veronica and no one writes for her. I feel like she’d call the reader ‘honey’ and ‘baby’, and just be overall protective. I love all your stories❤️

A/n: I got carried away, sorry it's so long. As indicated in the request, the reader is older and about the age of Spencer today (28) so.. not a minor! Spencer lives in her own apartment and not anywhere near the Hastings house. Also Alison is not in the story. I hope it´s okay! :)

---

It was a grey, stormy and rainy day that A had chosen to clear the air with your best friends and drop the biggest bombshell of your life. The rain hit the window panes hard and transformed your otherwise calm demeanor into endless nervousness.

The air filled with silence, irrepressible stillness. A light breeze from the tilted window in Spencer's kitchen blew around you, giving the situation a superbly cold environment and brushing your long grown hair onto your shoulder. Your heart was pounding in your throat, your agitation evident in the trembling of your hands.

"Spencer, say something. Please." you spoke softly into the silence that was so unusual for the five of you. Eight pairs of eyes were immediately focused on you and your fear grew as their pupils dilated in shock. They stared at you wordlessly with their mouths wide open. You had no idea what was going on inside Spencer, quite not understanding the meaning and the truth behind the message that had reached you all recently.

"Is that true?", despite the unplanned incident that had ruined your evening, the one addressed was sitting on one of the bar stools acting calm and trying to understand it all. She raised an eyebrow in a way that sent a chill down your spine. "Why?"

"She´s your best friends mom, Y/n! How could you do that to her?"

You nervously wiped your sweaty hands on your tight jeans, hoping she didn´t notice how you were shaking, not knowing what to say.

What would she think when you would confess to her that you couldn´t think straight when Veronica was around. When your heart was beating as fast as it is now and you were afraid it would jump out of your chest when she stood next to you. When your skin started to tingle whenever her fingers touched a single spot on your body.

Her eyes were beautiful and had this warm shade of brown, a brown like you´ve never seen on anyone. They always reminded you of light chocolate or a warm autumn day. And every time you lost yourself in them when they stared at you with love and care.

"Mrs. Hastings is so much older than you, couldn´t you get someone your age?" asked Hanna and you couldn´t help but roll your eyes. You quickly rotated in your chair and looked at her seriously. "Oh, but Aria can start something with her teacher?"

"This is something completely different, Y/n! Don´t drag Ezra and me into this."

Inside, your encouraged yourself to let your opinion about everything they do and have done out but involuntarily held your breath. Then, you clared your throat and started to stutter, but this was immediately stopped by the raspy voice of the housekeeper. "We´re friends, we trust each other! We´ve been through so much and you´re hiding this from me, from us? How long?"

You tried not to show your insecurity but sighed in agony. Words just wouldn´t leave your lips and you would like to run away at this point.

"You know what? Forget it. I want you out of here. Get out of my house!" Spencer yelled and you jumped so hard that the coffee in your hand spilled over the rim of the cup and spilled onto the marble counter.

The pitch and tone, the way she pronounced every single term, gave each simple word it´s own special touch, a frightening one that made you shudder and jump out of your seat. Packing your bag and a few small things together, you squeezed past Aria and Hanna and disappeared out of the street.

Spencer shakes her head, letting go of her defensive position at the kitchen counter as she pushes herself off and surveyed the three ladies next to her. Hastily, she stroked her wrinkled forehead in disbelief. "I urgently need a drink now, otherwise I will go crazy. You too?"

All three nodded in unison and spread out to carry out glasses and the delivery cards for the food order.

---

It was well past midnight when you barged into the Hastings house and Veronica was sitting in the living room, paperwork in hand as she concentrated on revising a file. You didn´t know where to go at this late hour, you didn´t want to go back to your empty apartment alone, where you had to worry about whether your best friends still wanted to have anything to do with you after all this.

Frightened by the loud slamming of the door into the lock, her gaze turned up to you and looked into your eyes intently while she gave you a loving smile. "Hey, what are you doing here so late? I thought you wanted to spend the night with your girls?"

You didn´t answer and stood there still, the rain that had soaked into your scarf and your coat only dripping lightly on the expensive parquet floor. You ran your cold and shaky fingers through your soaked hair and brushed back some strands that had been blocking her view of your face.

Only when she took a closer look and the light of the dull lamp in the living room illuminated you, she clearly saw that instead of the usual water falling from the sky, real tears escaped your eyes and were running down your cheeks.

Immediately, the printed papers fell onto the table and she pushed herself up from her seat with her hands firmly placed on her thighs. With quick steps, she skirted the corner of the sofa and walked towards you with outstretched arms. You literally fell into her arms, sobbing into her embrace as she hugged you tightly and drew her fingers in soothing circles over your hair. "What´s going on my love?"

"The girls, they figured it out. They know about us." sobbing, you pressed against her and she pulled you even closer before the older one pulled away shortly after and wrapped her fingers softly around one of your wrists. "Come here."

Urgently, Veronica sat down in her previous seat and slapped her thigh with her free hand as a sign for you to sit on her lap. You followed her silent request and took a seat. Resting your head on her shoulder, you hid your face in the crook of her neck and wrapped your arms around her middle.

"From the looks of you, things didn´t go as well, huh?" gentle palms of hands slid from your hips to your shoulder blades, touching them tenderly and very lightly. Goosebumps began to spread over your body rapidly as her touch triggered a pleasant shiver and your stomach started to tingle.

The silence she got back in reply worried her and she pressed her lips together thoughtfully. She pulled away from you for a brief moment and sighed as she whispered your name into your ear. "Y/n." she whispers softly, her lips brushing over your cheek, lovingly.

But your gaze remained downcast and your posture showed no attempt that your eyes would soon swivel up to her. She set about catching your gaze herself and so her index finger pressed under your chin, slowly and carefully guiding your head towards hers. "Look at me honey."

"Spencer kicked me out of her apartment." you started to speak; your voice thick from the tears you tried to swallow. Your heart was racing when your glassy eyes met her maple brown ones and as if by reflex, one of her hands jumped into your hair and pushed you forth against her chest. "Her look was so cold and there was this pure disappointment in her eyes. And the other girls didn´t even say anything about it, they didn´t even defend me or anything. They just stood there and were appalled by me. Even Aria who was dating her damn teacher!"

Veronica had to swallow and couldn´t believe what she was hearing. Quarrels between you were normal, she had noticed them often enough and sometimes even had to separate you personally before you would have strucked each other´s head.

But Spencer had never kicked you out, no matter how bad the argument was. The lawyer was speechless and sighed in disbelief at the behavior of her own daughter. You were inseparable; have known each other for far longer than anyone else and yet she had managed to treat you like that and not stand by your side.

"Listen, I will get Spencer and the others over here first thing in the morning and sort this out. No one has the right to treat my girl like that, not even my own daughter." she hissed under her breath and leaned towards the table to grab her phone. With a quick tap of her newly manicured fingernails on the screen, she rushed a quick message into the text block and tossed it back to her side as soon as she finished.

"Everything will be okay, honey. I will explain everything to the girls tomorrow and everything will be back to normal. You know how Spencer is, she can never stay mad at you for long. You are everything to her."

You looked up at her again and you could see the truth in her eyes. They were like a mirror to her soul and you could see right away what she was thinking or if she was lying. But this time it was different, she meant her sentence and you had to believe her.

She was the last hope of reuniting with your best friends.

"Why are you looking at me like that, my love?" the brunette required; a slight smile playing around her seductive, curved lips. Her sunny smile gave you the warmth and security in that moment. It saved you from the swamp of despair and gave you confidence that things will be better between you and your friend again. "I love you."

"I love you too," her lips started touching your cheeks slightly before making their way to your temples, back to your nose and finally to your lips again. "But now we have to dry and warm you up my love. You are freezing cold."

---

"You took it too far!" you heard a harsh voice screaming from the living room and woke up from your sleep. Opening your eyes just a crack, you felt across the bed for your woman´s warm body, whose arms were usually wrapped around you at all times. But this time the place was cold, the covers thrown energetic onto the side of the bed frame, laying half over the edge and on the floor. "You´re overreacting!"

"We´re overreacting? Mom, you shagged my best friend."

With your elbows supporting you, you pulled yourself up and ruffled your tousled hair. For a moment, you thought about dropping back down and just throwing the covers over your head, but this argument was about you and you knew it would be worse if you didn´t show up downstairs.

"Spencer." Veronica looked blankly at her daughter, her eyes clear and fixed on her younger self as a serious and balanced expression formed on her face. She raised her eyebrows sharply and snorted out in anger. "Be mad at me all you want but leave her out of it."

You tiptoed down the wooden stairs and stopped in the middle of it; the perfect place to have an overview of the whole living room and kitchen. Up until now, no one had noticed you. "Leave her out of it? Mom, she is already in the middle of it!" the brunette suddenly snapped, pointing her open hand in your direction.

You swallowed hard when you saw the sparkle of anger in her eyes, it almost scared you if you didn´t know her better. All eyes were suddenly on you and you would have liked to sink into the ground, but Veronica stopped you, waving her arm as a sign that you should approach her.

You slowly walked to your girlfriend´s side and her hand gently snuggled around your waist. Normally, you enjoyed the warmth, the closeness and the gesture, but you didn´t want to let your best friend and the others get angry with you.

"Spencer, please." you almost sounded pleading and desperate. Tears welled up in your eyes and Veronica pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your temple. "I really love your mother. Tell me why you don´t accept our relationship.. what have I done? Do you think I am not enough?

"You could see Spencer wrestling with herself, your words and what you thought she was mad at you for hurt her a lot. Suddenly, she wasn´t sure anymore why she was that at all. Actually, she wanted to be happy for you, especially after the pain and loss you had gone because of A. She was sorry for what she had said to you and how she treated you. The brunette shouldn´t have put all that in your head.

Another minute passed as the girls stood at the kitchen counter, not making up their minds. Spencer eyeing the petite person in her mother´s arms and let her gaze wander over your when she caught your teary eyes.

Spencer could see sadness, fear and disappointment and felt the hurt she had set up in you. The brunette´s gaze automatically softened and a very light, gentle smile graced her lips.

You were her closest friend of all the girls and she could have slapped herself for hurting you. That brought her out of her thoughts and she tried to find the right words in her head, but your big, red and puffed eyes were an awful distraction.

Neither of you had said a word and just looked at each other. It was almost as if you were having a telepathic conversation, which in a way you were. You could see in each others eyes what both of you were thinking but couldn´t put it into words.

The youngest Hastings considered the best way to express herself, but for the first time in her life she seemed to have run out of words and decided to let action speak for itself. She quickly walked around the kitchen island and hugged you tightly. You were briefly perplexed and stiffened in her arms, but returned her hug and relaxed after a short while.

Being close to her was exactly what you needed at that moment. You clung to her and laid your head on her shoulder. You just stood there for a long time and enjoyed each others warmth- you both really missed each other in such a short time. Eventually, Spencer pulled her head back enough to look you in the eyes again, but didn´t let you go out of her grasp. "I am sorry."

She has whispered it, almost breathed it, and you could her the sheer seriousness in her voice. At the same time, it caused a warm shiver through your whole body- a feeling of happiness as everyone would say. You closed your eyes briefly and looked to the side where you saw Veronica´s smiling face. The girls had also had a happy facial expression and were glad that the argument finally came to an end.

You nodded back to Spencer and brought out a breathy "me too" as your voice cracked in the silent house.

Once again, she wrapped you in a tight hug and you tensed up slightly again, but not because you were uncomfortable, but to suppress the tears of joy that came up. The argument had taken a toll on you, more than you thought at first, but now you felt nothing but pure happiness that sucked all the pain from the last few hours out of your body.

[prettylittleliarsstuff]

Y/n: Well, atoms never touch each other. Since we are made of atoms, we have never touched anything our whole lives.

Veronica: ......

Y/n: So, to answer your question, no, I didn't punch Melissa in the face.

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight - Part 6: Running Up That Hill

📜The angst... continued... Though I loved hearing all your thoughts about who you guys disliked the most in the last chapter. I'd love to know what you think after this chapter. I've been warned this one is a bit... OUCHIE?!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights (some mean stuff is said here; there might be some gaslighting), so bullying, wildlife encounters, shitty family dynamics, and angst.

#7k

Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

Everyone scattered in the aftermath.

Even Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found as you made your escape. You hardly blamed them for it. If you had been in their shoes, witnessing that shit show, you would have shuttered hard from the waves of secondhand embarrassment rolling off all the tension.

But you couldn't feel secondhand embarrassment from it; you were the embarrassment. And all because of the same reason that got you to this point in your life. 

Jake Seresin just couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

You're slightly optimistic about where the group could have gone, even with how hurt you felt. You hoped no one had heard or seen any of it, and they already had gone off to do their own thing. Probably the more likely choice, they did and wanted to avoid the fallout altogether, just like certain people had been all along.

Then a third miserable thought entered your mind - they were all pissed with you, maybe even with Jake, and wanted you gone. You could hardly blame them for that, either. Maybe deep down, you wanted to leave too.

It's how you found yourself following the rocky path, perhaps even dangerous if one wasn't paying attention, up to the top of the waterfall instead. The trail was open for use, though, from appearance alone, it looked like only some people came up here looking for another photo opportunity for someone with a camera below.

Climbing up the slope, rather than glancing below to the water, you turned your head towards the river, winding through a stretch of forest. If you weren't so upset, you might have stopped to wonder if this was the scenery authors envisioned when writing fantasy books. This stretch of woods ranged along the top of this mountainside terrain, and perhaps if you ventured far enough, somewhere you'd find yourself standing on the edge of the world. 

You followed the river bank instead, even if you could call it that, your eyes so intently focused on the rushing water you had nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. 

Cora's face flashes through your mind first. A shameful, disappointed look after asking if you had set up any more pranks. You had no intention to fuck up what was supposed to be a happy memory for Nat, but Cora could have put two and two together and assumed you were taking it another step too far.

Grace and Bob? Even Mickey? Pity. You didn't need to think about them further; the guilt from their expressions alone would drive you right into the dirt.

Rueben and Javy, you couldn't say, but Jessica and Veronica, you pushed from your mind, even if they tried to claim a few of your brain cells. They'd be so laced in pure, self-centred bias that you'd even go so far as to classify any remark they might make in the style and prose of Regina George's Burn Book - Masters of passive aggressiveness but perfect at playing the victim when the situation turned against them, as demonstrated the night you injured your hand.

Even if they had no part in what unfolded, any defensive remark would only be met with another, perhaps twisted, sentence intended to put you down.

You might have laughed at the fact had you not felt like crying instead.

It was a few minutes before you found the fork in the river, and there was a solitary rock big enough and flat enough to sit upon. You went to it without haste, letting your feet guide you by their own accord. Being mindful of your hand as you hoisted yourself up and settled onto the smooth surface, you drew your knees up to your chest rather than let your legs hang over the side. You didn't even bother removing your backpack; the weight pulling against your back was a comfort and a burden.

Weakly wrapping your arms around your legs, you let your cheek rest on your kneecaps. What comfort your arms could give was meagre and weak, and even as you stared at a riffle in the water, the gentle trickle or the momentary peace did nothing to help you.

While there was a part of you wishing Jake had decided to leave altogether, to hike back to the entrance of the park, never to show his ugly no, good, untimely, "if not now, when" ass again, you know there was no point. It wouldn't fix what had happened, and it wouldn't make Nat feel any better either.

To say this wasn't the first time you found yourself in the middle of a fight would be an understatement. As friends usually do, you and Nat had your fair share of them over the years, though they always ended up with the two of you making up.

Always because someone caved - that someone being you - maybe that's one of the reasons why you wanted to seek her out.

But you knew your presence wouldn't be welcomed. No matter your explanation, she wouldn't want to hear it, shoving it off and turning you away, especially after the first-row seat to her rage.

Her words hurt you, but you still knew you owed it to her to apologize.

For letting your temper get the better of you, yelling at Jake? Yes.

For the aftermath of it ruining her proposal? Also, yes.

You would sooner run after her for that apology alone had not Bradley gone after her - rightly so. That was something you couldn't interrupt or insert yourself into, especially after a clusterfuck such as that.

The 'thing' building in the pit of your stomach against the white, nauseating feeling of guilt also made you rethink your decision to seek her out. A feeling that only arose from you replaying Nat's rage-filled words repeatedly in your head.

Jake could be right. It's looking like he had always been right.

You don't understand why now, of all times, you'd entertain the possibility of accepting Jake's words. It is something you want to remain a mystery, shoved deep down into the forgotten places of your mind.

It's an impossible feat.

Nat's rage, so hot and what you'd classify as spiteful, blew the doors open so wide there was no amount of pressure you could shove at the idea to make it disappear. You buried your face into your knees, eye sockets aching under the force, driving lights and shapes to appear behind your lids.

What if? What if I said this? What if I did this? What if I just walked away?

But something else shot forward in your mind, something you'd never thought you'd entertain.

What if I did confront Nat? Confront her for the lack of support throughout the entire trip. Not just in the heat of the moment, but truly laid bare that she purposely brought me on this trip without telling me Jake would be here too.

If you told her how you felt, how she had made you feel, would that have made a difference, too?

You think not. Even if you had a part to play in your feelings of isolation, there would have been a reason, an explanation, a word vomit of her hurt feelings without care for yours. You had never truly voiced your feelings before, always burying them under wit and sarcasm.

There was no chance you would now.

Ironic, isn't it? All that snark you've mustered up for Jake, for the two twins incarnate, and you still couldn't bring yourself to stand up for yourself and set a boundary with your 'friend.'

You supposed that's how it's always been, too.

Growing up in the shadow of expectations, your voice often ended up unheard. A middle child sandwiched between an older brother who followed in your father's footsteps and a younger sister brimming with self-selected compassion – and two parents in high-achieving roles.

In the rare instance that all five of you could actually sit down and have a family dinner together, conversations only seemed to revolve around that fact. They were limited to surgical techniques, case studies, medical research projects, and overseas missions.

Your father always sat at the same end of the dining room table. Dr. Xiaver Spencer, the authoritative head neurosurgeon, would often glance over the rim of his glasses, nodding approvingly at your brother's, Dr. Alex Spencer, recounts of complex brain surgeries. Your mother always claimed her spot at the other end. Dr. Heather Spencer, the CEO of a prestigious teaching and research-based hospital, would meticulously plan her next board meeting in between bites. 

With your brother between them on one side, Ella, your younger sister, would occupy the other. She often regaled the family with tales of distant lands and communities, places she had adventures to as a volunteer with UNICEF. If she wasn't home, she was overseas, helping build homes, handing out supplies, assisting medics, or studying.

Only 16, and she was off seeing the world, her pure joy of helping those in need making your paintings and designs at the local animal shelter quaint in comparison.

That left you and your seat at the table, never fixed or permanent, wedging between your brother, sister, mother and father in a different spot every time.

They made you feel quaint, too. Any attempt to share or talk about art, your art, or even the opportunities coming your way was always met with a "That's nice, dear" or "It's good to have hobbies."

Alex would laugh. Ella would remain silent. And nobody took you seriously enough when you started discussing it as an actual career.

Because the path you had chosen for yourself was less valuable than the stringent standards surrounding your family and what it meant to be a Spencer. Because pursuing a Fine Arts or even an Arts Illustration Degree was abhorrent when you could be working to save lives instead.

You might have taken to talking back and standing up for yourself in the early days. Each remark or attempt was followed with one of their own, so cutthroat it would have you sinking into the polished and unmarked leather of one of your mother's overly expensive dining room chairs. You would poke at the designer dish with the fancy silver fork through your tears, waiting till everyone else finished before taking off to your room and calling Aunt Viv.

Each time you did, the urge diminished, and soon, you didn't say anything unless you were spoken to. However, that was a rare instance indeed.

Why give your opinion? Why voice your thoughts when they weren't really warranted?

Correction - Wanted.

Aunt Viv, though. She... cared. Pure, unwavering support, no matter what you said, did or would think to do. She pushed you towards what you loved and stood by you like a rock when cash was tight, and scholarships weren't cutting it. She was unafraid to throw your name around in conversations. Not your full name, but "My niece Maeve does this," or "My niece is such a talented artist."

Who knew growing apples could have such a sway? You weren't sure where you'd be now if it weren't for her.

You knew you couldn't stay here on this rock forever. But you didn't know what else to do. Walk back with your head held high? Give Cora, Grace, or even Bob the compass and the map, and let them take over for the rest of the day? Hang out in the back of the group where you belonged, not saying a word to anyone else?

You could always leave.

The thought was tempting - walk away from it all. From Nat, from Jake, from the situation. You're surprised you didn't attempt to do it before. But leaving now felt like admitting defeat, and despite everything, you weren't ready to give up. Not yet.

Four-plus years, and it would have been a waste for nothing if you did. Cause if you walked away now, you'd never come back.

As you slowly slid from the rock, you decided on a plan. You'd walk back, find Nat to apologize, and attempt to mend whatever was left of the week. You and Nat had purposely planned more than one stop on this trip where Bradley could propose; he still could if things calmed down.

You followed the river back down the way you came, trying to figure out what to say, what to do, that would make the apology meaningful.

You would have to do it sooner than you thought. Cause the second you lifted your head at the sound of stones clacking hard against one another, Nat was striding towards you, completely lost in her thoughts.

Your initial thought would have been she was seeking you out had it not been for the devastated look on her face.

It left you frozen, unwilling to take a step further.  You had geared yourself up to swallow your hurt to apologize for a mess that hadn't been entirely yours, but standing here and now in front of her, you knew.

It wouldn't matter what you said. 

It's not a disappointment you see it reflected in her face. It's not love for a friend either or even dislike either. That would be giving her too much credit, and even after feeling sorry for what happened, acknowledging you owed her an apology, and burying that hurt aside, failed proposal or not, it comes rushing back inside. 

Even then, you still caved first.

"What can I say or do to make up for what just happened?" you manage to plead.

She scoffs in the face of your honest ask. "You really don't know?"

You shake your head hard. "No. No, I don't. Not for this. All I can do is ask and offer whatever apology I can that would truly make it up to you."

Nothing on Earth could have prepared you for something like this.

Her hand flew up, preventing you from saying another word. “Just save it,” she spat. “I don’t want to hear it, Maeve. Not now. Maybe not ever.” 

You gasped, and Nat's gaze hardened further, if possible.

 "You think you're the only one hurt by all this?" Her voice raised, bitter and cold.  "You think you're the only one with feelings? God, Midge, you can be so self-absorbed sometimes. It's always about you, isn't it?"

Your mouth dropped open like a fish. "You really think I wanted this," you emphasize by spreading your arms out wide, "To happen? Do you think I purposely wanted to fuck up your proposal just to get back at Jake? Come on, Nat!"

"Honestly?" she cries out. "I don't know!"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Wow. Okay then."  

"You've been so caught up in your own drama with hating Jake that you didn't even see what was happening right in front of you. How all of it has been affecting everyone else in the group?"

You don't mean for your anger to get the best of you or for it to be directed at Nat, but her remarks are so spiteful that you can't help the shrill laugh crawling up your throat.

"And you did? Like you haven't been the picture of understanding and support. You had to have seen the way Jessica and Veronica have been treating me. Where were you then?!"

Nat eyes you up and down like she's just caught you in a lie. "Funny you say that, 'cause they told me the same thing," she insinuates.  "How you've been less than welcoming. How you can't let things go. How you can't take a joke...."

Your jaw tightened, and the fact she was buying into their words and their stories without questioning it further stung harder than you wanted to believe. 

"So their behaviour is justified because I was standing up for myself? For things you never saw from the sound of it!?" 

And what does she do but shrug? The action is so dismissive it only fuels your frustration further. "You're not exactly innocent in all of this." 

You know it's not those two she's referring to. 

"What, Jake?" you mock. "You never told me Jake was coming on this trip. You've always known how I've felt about him, how it's always been between us, and you said nothing!"

"Because I thought you could handle it for one fucking week!"

"I leave a room the second I realize he's in it. I purposely go out of my way to avoid him. That's me fucking handling it! I avoid him at all costs because I can't stand to be in the same space as him without feeling like I will lose my mind. And you thought throwing us together was a good idea?!"

Nat didn't say anything, prompting you to continue. "A good friend tells her friend if the guy she hates is going on a week-long trip with them. A good friend acknowledges the hurt this person has caused..."

"A good friend explains why she dislikes a guy so much! She explains she lets them know...." Nat interrupts you, though you interrupt her right back.

"He's your fucking friend! I won't be the one to drive a wedge into a friend group that existed long before I ever came around!"

As if I could.

Nat's response was a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You just gave up! You just gave him the cold shoulder, and the next, you two were at each other's throats."

"And what?" you cried out.  "You just believed what Jessica and Veronica said about me? Without even asking my side? You know how they can be, Nat! you know!" 

Her eyes narrowed, and she moved closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. ”If you ever faced your problems instead of sprinting in the opposite direction, we wouldn't be in this mess. It's no wonder everything's falling apart around you."

Her words held you in a chokehold, a sharp intake of breath your only defence against the burning sting in your lungs. You remain silent, hurt flashing across your face as your eyes blur with unshed tears.

"Wow," you finally manage, voice croaking. "Kick me while I'm down. I'm sorry your proposal was ruined, Nat; I am. But that doesn't give you permission to be cruel." 

She turns her head away from you to stare at the water. You press on further. 

"Let's talk about this," you hold your arm up. "Or the fact I was the one hiding behind the bush first, not him. With my phone, trying to get photographs for you. Jake was the one who approached me. Who decided that was the best moment of all other times to start fucking with me. I might have pranked him earlier, but I wasn't about to do it during a moment such as that. I was the one telling him to back the fuck off. " 

Your eyes were welling up with tears, but you fought them back, refusing to let her see just how much she'd wounded you.

"Or let's talk about how Veronica gave me a snide remark about my art, and I stood up for myself, only to have her knock my brushes to the side. Or how they cornered Jake into pulling a prank that resulted in this?" you hold up your arm. 

She turns to you, her eyes harsh. "Like how you pranked Veronica?" 

You rolled your eyes. "It was meant for the Asshole, but you know what, I'm happy she got a little bit of Karma after everything you just admitted." 

Nat's face twisted, a mix of anger and something else you couldn't quite place. "You know what, Maeve? Maybe you're right. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. You and Jake, this trip, everything!" 

"And you think blaming me is going to make it better?"

Nat opened her mouth to retort but then closed it, pressing her lips into a thin line. The anger seemed to drain from her face momentarily, replaced by a weary resignation.

"Maybe I never should have invited you instead."

You bit your bottom lip, nodding more to yourself than to her. A sad noise crept up your throat, a laugh, though it was one more of resignation, maybe even ironic amusement. The thought comes rushing forward to sweep you off your feet like the first time you heard it.

Because Jake was right, after all.

Standing there wounded and silent, in the hardness of Nat's eyes, you conclude that perhaps you were never really a friend in the first place.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you never should have. At least then, I wouldn't have spent years thinking we were actually friends after all."

Shaking your head, you turned away from her, the weight of everything pressing down on you. With each step you took, the sound of the river beside you grew louder, its rushing waters seeming to beckon you forward. The thought that if you could allow yourself to be swept away, to tumble over the waterfall at its end, flashed through your mind. That would be enough to wash away the pain. 

Nat sighed loudly from behind you and then called out after you, "Midge, stop!"

The fact she called you Midge, not Maeve, made your resolve burn brighter.

You twisted, continuing to walk backwards. You dramatically threw your hands out to the side as you sarcastically called out through your tears, "Why should I? I only think about myself, right? Make everything about me? Why quit now when I'm only following in the example you've so clearly set?"

You sniffed a breath, and then the remark slipped past your lips, the defence mechanism you've used in all other circumstances, finally landing a blow on someone you once considered a friend. You purposely stopped, raising your hands to clap against the thick fabric of the bandage on your arm.

"Let's give a round of applause and a standing ovation to the one and only Natasha Trace, the saint who never does anything wrong!" you dropped, bending yourself down into a dramatic bow. "Bravo for putting up with me for so long! What an Oscar-worthy performance, indeed!"

You didn't bother seeing her reaction, purposely straightening yourself to turn back to walk the path ahead. Honestly, you didn't want to see it either.

You simply had enough.

All those years you spent fighting against the words of one jock in your apartment bathroom because you didn't want to lose Nat as a friend - gone in minutes.  

Fighting your sobs, you tried to devise some plan, anything beyond your initial decision to leave as you stormed forward. Perhaps some other tourist below would take pity on your situation and let you tag along back to the park entrance. There was a bus station there. You could buy a ticket back into the city and then take the train home.

Either way, your decision to leave had been the obviously correct one. Nat made that so abundantly clear.

You could see the opening to the slope from a distance, and you took a moment to compose yourself. Wiping at the lingering tears on your face, you drew in sharp, equal breaths, hoping the fresh air would calm you down.  If you were about to ask a total stranger for help, you couldn't do it looking like this.

You tilted your head back on your shoulders, closing your eyes as you tried to feel the breeze on your face, seeking solace in its cool embrace. You let your hand rest on the nearby tree, trying to feel the sensation of its bark under the palm of your hand. Rolling your head forward, you shook your shoulders, straightening your posture before opening your eyes.

But the path ahead was no longer empty. And you caught sight of the last person you wanted to see, making their way up the hill. 

The universe was a fine-flecked bitch, so that it would seem. Because there was Jake, in all his glory, precariously walking up the slope. 

Seeing him sends the sensation of sheer ice shooting across your skin. And the hurt that had found a home inside your chest amplifies into an overwhelming urge to run. Run, and never look back. Run and escape.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

But is it from him? Or from his words and the truth in them, haunting, following you from that night? A truth that was proven only a mere few seconds ago.

Panic flutters in your chest at the thought he'd seen you, and you spin rapidly on your heel, hoping you could find another path or maybe even hide until he accomplished whatever he intended to do by coming up here.

But your bag snags on a branch, and you wince as the leaves rustle obnoxiously, knowing that if Jake hadn't seen you standing there before, he certainly would now.

Jake lifted his head at the sudden noise, only to see a quick flash of bright blue. Your sleeping bag curled on top of your backpack disappeared behind the thick trunk of a tree.

"Midge, wait!"

Like hell, I'd wait for you.

His voice spurs you on, taking off into the thick underbrush. Jake is undeterred in the slightest, taking off after you.  He wasn't far behind, having extended his pace to get to you quicker once he was up the side of the hill.  You were at a disadvantage; your short legs were no match for his long ones, and your heavy bag only weighed you down.

Your only hope would be to lose him in the bush, counting on his height, build, and weight even, to slow him down and watch where he was going. You were small, yes, but you could get through the gaps or the trees better than he ever could.

But Jake was uncaring if thorns were ripping at his jeans or if branches were smacking him in the face. He was so fucking stubborn, and his drive was absolute. If not to get you to talk, then not to let you disappear into the woods alone.

"Midge, stop running! I'm not going to hurt you!"

His voice came from everywhere and anywhere, seemingly bouncing off trees and down the paths they grew, a haunting echo that unleashed a fresh wave of tears. As you rounded the corner of a tree, you came across an intriguing root system twisting along the ground when your vision blurred.

You cried out when you tripped over a root. You caught yourself and, without stopping, lifted your arm so the bandage might catch the tears rushing down your face, feet continuing to step in the spaces between the roots blindly.

You did. You have been. And you probably still will.

The thought, bitter and resigned, fueled your steps farther and farther. The underbrush grabbed at your legs like hands pulling you down. Burs stuck to the fabric of your leggings and pricked at your skin. Branches whipped at your face and arms, leaving thin lines of red in their wake. But the thought of losing Jake, getting out of this park and never seeing him again urged you on.

But when you finally burst through the underbrush, expecting to find a trail, a slope down, or even a trail marker to tell you where to go, you were met with nothing of the sort. It was a dead end, a sheer cliff drop that had you skidding to a jarring halt against stone ground. Gravel slid beneath your feet, and your arms flailed wildly as you desperately tried to save your balance.

Your heart must have stopped briefly as you were forced to look down, confronting the edge of this unexpected cliff and the daunting drop below. While not lethal, a fall like this would only lead to injury, one you wouldn't tempt fate for.

A cold wave of realization washed over you as you finally regained your balance and looked around. The ledge you found yourself on was a narrow outcropping that offered no path forward, only a steep fall or retreat back through the bush toward Jake.

You were utterly, utterly trapped.

Twigs snapped under Jake's boot as he stepped out from behind the bush. His breath was laboured, audible harsh pants that had you reaching up to cup your hands over your ears before sliding them forward to cover your eyes.

I can't do this now. I can't do this now.

"Why do you always run from me?"

You couldn't think. Nothing was coming forth to save you now. No witty retort or clever line. No semblance of that resolve that rushed through your veins before. You were literally incapable of rescuing or being enough to save yourself from what was about to unfold.

So, your anger rose up to greet you like a long-lost friend instead. 

"You don't get to ask me that! Why do you even care?" The words erupted from you louder and more forceful than you'd care to admit, letting your hands fall from your face to smack against the side of your thighs. "What the fuck more could you possibly want from me, Jake?! What... what was the point of you chasing me? To corner me? To say more about me or remind me how much of a fuck up I really am? To drive the wedge, the fucking knife, deeper?"

Even as you yelled, you still couldn't face him.

"Everyone in this fucking camp hates me! In general. Do you think I don’t know what people say? How they look at me? And you… you’re no different. You’ve made your thoughts about me crystal clear from the second I met you." 

You stomped forward, pointing your finger into his chest. "We made a fucking deal not to ruin their week for them. We agreed. But you just had to cause shit. You just had to bang that pot; you just had to put away the coffee; you just had to think of the worst fucking shortcut; you just had to scream, bear. You just had to hurt me!" 

You were panting hard, thumping your finger into his chest. 

"I told you. You throw that shit at me. I'll throw that shit back. So thank you for that, because if your point in all of that was to end Nat and I's friendship and kick me out of the group, then congratulations. You succeed!" 

As he absorbed the full force of your words, the pure hurt pouring out of you, he seemed to deflate right before your eyes. For a moment, he stood there, his features softening and his usual cocky confidence nowhere in sight. Some might have even called it a genuine look of distress and confusion. 

Jake's voice was barely above a whisper when his shoulders slumped, and he asked defeatedly, "Why do you hate me so much, Midge? What did I do?"

In his honest green eyes, you could see the plea for an answer, any answer that might get you to open up to him and simply explain.

But you couldn't.

How could you explain the reason you yelled, shouted, snarked, and downright hated him was because he had been completely right? At the infamous Halloween party, you caught him about to hook up with that girl in your bathroom, uttering about your supposed friendship with Natasha?

How, since that moment, you had been running from him because it was the easier option? Better than giving yourself over to the possible truth - a truth you have seen time and time again. Because allowing yourself to feel hurt over catching him with another girl when he flirted and showed an interest in you for most of the night was better than possibly ruining the one friendship you had.

It shouldn't even matter right now. You already had. And just like that night, Jake had been right the first day by the lake. You did run away from your problems.

Because I don't know how to do anything else.

His question hung in the air, a plea for some understanding, some clue, some indication of how things could have gotten so bad between you.

A gasp tore from your throat instead.

Not because you were outwardly expressing your frustration and struggle in answering him, but for the fact you caught sight of a massive creature emerging from the treeline behind him.

Every emotion you had felt before vanished at the sight and was replaced with only two: panic and fear.

Your arm moved by its own accord, your hand latching onto Jake's sleeve. He tried to tug his arm back, but you wouldn't let him. You were near catatonic, your grip as strong as metal and your face pale as ice as you watched the approaching creature finally notice your presence. With its mouth hung open, the brown monster stood on its haunches to inquire if you were friend, foe, or its next meal.

Jake remained clueless to your reaction, frowning when he reached up to pry your hand away, unaware of the approaching threat. "What the fuck, Midge. Let me go!"

You couldn't. You couldn't let Jake go. You couldn't do anything except stutter out, "baaa baaa... Bear!"

How your legs hadn't given out yet, you had no clue.

"Really? Do you think I'm going to fall for that after what I did to you? No way. Stop changing the damn subject and give me an answer."

You're not sure how you managed it, but you attempted to hit him on his shoulder, nervous energy causing you to let up on the force behind such a move. You hadn't even felt the sting of your bandaged wrist, adrenaline masking any pain you might have felt, even if it was a rather flimsy attempt.

You still hadn't taken your eyes off the brown animal. It was massive, rugged, and looked like it had no protests about which one of you it would eat first. The scar across its back and face was another story altogether, too. Its teeth would have no problem tearing into Jake; you'd merely be a tiny slice of desert. Or the appetizer.

"Midge, stop and talk to me like a fucking adult!"

The fact he still didn't listen to you seemed to wake you out of your stupor.

"Turn the fuck around and look, you idiot!"

You aren't sure if your prompting would have gotten Jake to turn around and look. Because once you finally managed to gather the courage to draw your eyes away from the thing deciding who to go after first, Jake's face was frozen, contemplating if you were telling the truth.

The bear roared, shattering any doubt.

His reaction was instant, eyes flaring and mouth hanging slightly. He spun, shooting out his arm as his hand made contact with your hip, urging you behind him. Your hands scrambled for anything to grab onto as he turned, eventually settling on clutching the strap of Jake's backpack.

If you weren't so scared, you might have wondered why Jake was here, putting himself in harm's way for you. You might have even whipped out a sarcastic, "Yeah, that's right. Eat him first, you wild creature."

But either one of you had anywhere to go. And even if you could manage to distract it, there was no way either of you could outrun it.

"What are we going to do?" you shot out nervously.

"It's a bear, Midge!" Jake rushed out. "Just stay the fuck behind me."

You panicked and snapped back, "I saw it first! I know what a bear looks like!"

It bellowed, making Jake jolt backwards. You let out a cry, burying your face into the back of his massive bag.

The bear safety facts from the class the park rangers made you take before you ventured into the park are conveniently missing from your mind. All except the one you whisper harshly, "They tell you not to run."

Jake's voice cut through the tension. "Well, if we can't run, I guess now's a good time to see who can yell louder?"

"You really want to start a shouting match now?!"

"Were you paying any attention in that safety class? Running. No. Yelling. Yes. Surely, between the two of us, we can manage that!"

"I was doing that before it decided to show up! What makes you think that's not the reason it sought us out, dumbass?"

"Because I refuse to believe my sparkling personality is what attracts bears!"

You laughed sharply as the bear seemed to be weighing its options. You were not sure why it hadn't decided to charge the two of you yet, but you would have bet good money it had to do with the scars littered across its body.

"You called for one the other night, remember? Practically pulled a Dory!"

"Don't hate on a children's Icon, Midge!"

"I'm hating on you for what you did to me! They aren't mutually exclusive things!"

Jake took a careful step forward, testing the waters. You shuffled with him, eager to put space between you and the ledge. The creature tilted its head as if pressing its ear to the ground. Then, without warning, it let out a deep, resonating roar directly at the both of you. You buried your face into Jake's backpack again, trying not to scream.

"That was probably not one of my best ideas."

Your voice was muffled against the fabric. "Want me to make a list?"

Jake's laugh was nervous. "Only if I can make one for you."

The bear, seemingly unimpressed by your banter, shifted its weight, causing Jake and you to tense up again.

"Thinking yelling at a bear would actually work as a deterrent is on it."

"We're supposed to yell at it, not at each other."

"You think it can tell the difference?" you asked him, your voice pitchy. "It doesn't matter who or what we are yelling at."

Jake managed a strained smile.  "Common ground. Wow, we're practically bonding over here."

"Because nothing brings people closer like shared trauma," you snap, fear sharpening your words. "I'm tripping you first."

"I'm leaving you behind."

"I'll feed you to the bear myself."

"I run faster, scared than you do, mad."

"Hang on, let me find a stick and shove it up your ass."

Jake's eyebrows shot up. "Now there's the Midge I know."

Peering over Jake's arm, the bear made a sudden, decisive lunge forward with a single paw, claws extended, as if taunting its prey, waiting to see if the two of you would scramble. The move was unexpectedly aggressive, and it sent the two of you scrambling backwards in panic.

Neither of you realized how close to the cliff's edge you actually were. Only when your boots slid again on gravel, and you were brought back to a few moments ago when you nearly fell over yourself.

"Jake! The cliff!" you cried out, desperately trying to push on his backpack. You could feel it, one or maybe two more inches, and you'd be slipping off the edge.

"Hang on to me!"

"What do you think I'm doing?" You shot back, your words laced with adrenaline-fueled irritation and fear. However, you did find your grip miraculously tightening further to anchor yourself to him. But you couldn't with your injured hand, trying desperately to wind it through the straps across the bag instead.

Jake's mind flickered rapidly between the bear and the crackling stone beneath his feet. "Okay, new plan. We let it charge, and we dodge."

"And your an action movie junkie, that's never going to work!" you rushed out. 

"What else do we have, Midge?!"

Honestly? Nothing.

Jake widened his stance, almost as if he was sizing up the bear. You mirrored his movement as best you could, though it seemed futile with your smaller stature.

"When I move, you move!" Jake's voice was sharp, a clear command, and if this were any other circumstance, your instinctive retort would have been a defiant, "Don't tell me what to do!"

For this?

 Nope. Have at it, Jake. Maybe they'll let me torture you in hell.

It was stupid. Idiotic even. But what else could the two of you do? You were literally boxed in—no way to go.

Then something popped under your foot. And above the frantic beating of your heart, more menacing than the bear's growls, came a sickly sound that made your blood run cold.

An ominous crack.

What followed was worse - a series of smaller yet equally sinister sounds and the feeling of pieces of stone wobbling beneath your feet. You didn't dare look down, for you already knew.

The damn cliff was falling apart.

"Jake!"  Your voice was desperate, trying to pierce through his concentration. But he hadn't heard you, solely focused on when this bear would finally decide to leap. Or maybe he did and thought it was you being scared.

You shoved at his back, but he was like a brick wall, and you had nothing to ground yourself with.

You shouldn't have tried to push him, either. The second you tried to apply some force behind another shove, a chunk of stone came loose, allowing the ground beneath your feet to give away.

You dropped with a cry, legs knocking hard into the fragmented pieces of stone, and you found yourself dangling, held aloft solely by the one strap of Jake's backpack. The elastic straps around your wrist had already snapped against your bandage, freeing your arm, and it waved out, reaching for something that had never been there in the first place.

Jake fell backwards at the weight, causing him to step back at an angle. He called out your name and tried to keep his eyes on the bear while trying to reach for you blindly. You were trying to bring your legs up to a section of stone that looked stable enough to not give under pressure so you might be able to grab his hand. But with how heavy your pack was, you couldn't gain enough momentum to swing your leg over, no matter how hard you tried.

Suddenly, his hand gripped the bend of your elbow hard enough that you were sure there would be bruises if either of you managed to get out of this in one piece.

"Let go, Midge! I'll pull you up!"

"The bear!"

"It's still deciding which one of us to eat first!"

"Don't take your eyes off it!"

"What do you think I'm doing? Picking daisies?!"

You weren't sure what was louder—the bear's unsettling clacking or the ominous sounds of stone shifting ominously under Jake's weight. The truth was, you didn't want to find out.

You let go, entrusting your entire weight into Jake's hold, crying out when you dropped a few inches. But whether it was your cry or Jake needing to ensure your safety over his own, he dared to take his eyes off the bear to glance over his shoulder.

That was all it took for everything to happen all at once.

The brief shift in his gaze, the twist of his waist, and the slight lean were enough to unsettle the already compromised ground beneath him. With a heart-sinking crack, the remaining piece of the cliffside he was perched on gave way.

The bear roared, charging forward at the prospect of losing its meal.  And Jake lost his balance, using the momentum to twist his body to fully face you, some last-minute attempt to ensure your safety if he could, with a look of a thousand promises he could never make nor keep.

But you didn't see it. You were too busy watching the last crumbling stone disappear from underneath Jake's boots before gravity took over, cruel and unforgiving, as you finally started to fall.

For a breathless moment, you were suspended in the air, Jake's figure falling forward with you, nothing but white overcast clouds behind him. His hand was still gripping your elbow, and his eyes were wide, the realization of what was about to occur striking him hard.

With a final decisive tug born out of desperation, Jake pulled you close as he tumbled over, your face colliding with the solid wall of his chest. His other arm wrapped around your back, around your bag, his body twisting mid-air with you in his grasp, ensuring in the split second before gravity claimed its due, you were on top of him, not beneath.

Then, with a terrifying rush, the two of you fell, the ground rushing up to greet you both. Another roar of the bear above faded into the roar of the wind in your ears. With the pit forming in the pit of your stomach, above the wind, the scream you produced vibrating against Jake's chest was worse.

What happened after that, you couldn't recall.

The world didn't fade but snapped to black.

Had to throw the cliffhanger in there somewhere? 😂😅💛

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Please let me know if Tumblr didn't notify you! I've been having issues with being tagged in things myself. If that is the case, I can work on trying to find an alternative.

Part 7 - My Blood - In-progress

[becca-alexa]

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Eight: The Unforgiven

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Veronica can't help but be worried when Eddie misses school - will he finally be able to apologize?

Word Count: 4.4K

Content Warnings: mentions of illness

Author's Note: GOD this took way too long to put out -- i'm back at school and it's really killing me but i will try to get these out as soon as i can!! and THANK YOU FOR READING 💗

and as always HUGE hug and many many kisses to @rollforhellfire for putting up with me and reading these before they go out 💗💗💗

    He’d missed first period.

    Whatever. If he wanted to risk his chances at graduation with shoddy attendance, so be it.

    It wasn’t like she cared.

    Sitting through Ms. O’Donnell’s ramblings on… whatever Shakespearian drama she’d decided to delve into that week was usually easy for her. Simple; she’d take a few notes, answer a few questions. But, as her eyes drifted to the empty seat three desks over, Veronica couldn’t help but chew on her lip - it wasn’t unusual for Eddie to be late, but he was rarely absent. She kicked her feet, trying to figure out where he could be, what he could be doing, so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear name being called.

    “Miss Windsor?” Mrs. O’Donnell called out, tapping her manicured fingers against her desk in annoyance. “Miss Windsor!”

    “H-Huh…?” Veronica’s head snapped toward the board, face flushed as she desperately tried to recall what the older woman had been saying. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

    Mrs. O’Donnell rolled her eyes. “What was Romeo’s intention in pursuing Juliet?”

    Veronica gave a quick answer - true love. It seemed to pacify the woman, as she’d turned back around and continued her droll recitation of the literary classic. Struggling to keep from gnawing at her nails, her eyes moved to the clock hanging above the door, and she counted the seconds for the class to be over, a feeling of unease already settling itself in her stomach.

    He’d missed second period, and third - and by fifth, Veronica was beside herself with worry. Not that he deserved her concern, but it still managed to wrap itself around her chest, tightening, pulling the air from her lungs as she pushed through the heavy double-doors leading into the lunchroom. Searching the crowd, she nearly barreled into an unsuspecting group of freshmen in her haste to reach her table.

    “Max.” Veronica called out, winded, clearly frazzled, dazed and confused beyond anything her friends had ever seen. “Did you see Eddie this morning?” The younger girl gave her an odd look, chewing through her sad excuse of a burger before answering with a shrug.

    “His van was still there when Steve picked me up.”

    “You didn’t see him at all?”

    Max shook her head, stabbing a straw through her carton of chocolate milk. “He’s probably sick.” she said by way of a reply, giving the two of them an exasperated look. “Like, who the Hell goes for a bike ride in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

    Sick? Of course he’d gotten sick.

    Eddie was sick… and it was her fault.

    “You lookin’ for him?” Robin chimed in, wiping sandwich crumbs from her hands. “I have him next period - I can pass along a message, if I see him.”

    Veronica slowly shook her head, her thoughts a violent spiral behind her troubled eyes. “No, it’s… That’s okay. I don’t think he’s here today.” She looked around the room, her bag suddenly too heavy, the noises suddenly too loud. She needed to get out, needed to leave-

    “Hey, aren’t you going to eat?” Max shouted over the crowd, giving Robin a confused look as they watched Veronica shove her way toward the doors.

    “I forgot I had something to do!” she shouted back, giving them both a wave, not bothering to look back. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

    Veronica stared at the door to the trailer, absentmindedly counting the rusted spots speckling the metal, the plastic Melvald’s bag in her hand stuffed to the brim with… everything, feeling as though it’d been filled with bricks. Don’t be stupid, it’s just Munson, she reminded herself, her words echoing through the empty expanses of her mind, never finding purchase, never truly reassuring her. Taking in what she intended to be a calming breath, she knocked on the door. Once, twice, even a third time, but was met with silence, the quiet buzzing of the rain around her silenced only by the sound of her pulse thrumming in her ears.

    Looking around, she found the small plastic rock hidden just behind the railing Eddie had shown her after their first few meetings; flipping it over, she pulled out the key, brassy and well-worn with age, and let herself in. “Hello?” she called out, her voice cautious, hesitant - she'd never actually used the secret key before. Usually, Wayne had always been around to let her inside. She felt… out of place, being in the trailer by herself. Something felt off, missing. “Uncle Wayne? You home?”

    She took off her shoes at the door, not wanting to track in mud and water. The television was off, as was the radio, the coffee maker, the hallway light that always seemed to flicker, no matter how new the bulb was. The unending stillness unnerved her, the sound of her setting her bag of supplies atop the kitchen counter much too loud, too jarring. Working quickly, she pulled out a pot from one of the cabinets, putting it on the stove, all but tearing open a can of soup and leaving it to warm - chicken noodle. Simple, filling, familiar. She wasn’t sure what kind of soup Eddie liked, and for the life of her, she didn’t know why she cared. But, she conceded with a sigh, he did need to eat - even if that meant taking his preferences into consideration.

    With the soup debacle cleared, Veronica made her way further into the trailer, to where she knew Eddie’s bedroom to be; the furthest room down the narrow hallway, past the bathroom and the oddly-framed picture of geese flying over a lake, worn and yellowed from years of nicotine. She stopped just before the threshold of his door, her mind still a whirlwind as she took that final step forward.

    “Eddie…?” she whispered, having to squint her eyes as she looked around the room. The curtains were drawn, the blinds closed, blanketing the room in a stuffy, musty darkness. “Munson, are you in here?” Hearing no answer, she let herself in, and reached for where she knew his lamp to be - and, to her shock, she found him, abed and asleep. Rather, as asleep as someone with a raging fever could be. A swell of sympathy - unwarranted sympathy, she reminded herself - overcame her at the sight of him, shiny with sweat, his brows furrowed almost painfully as he groaned, turning onto his side, pulling his blankets infinitely tighter around him. Even from beneath the covers, she could tell how roughly he trembled, his cheeks and nose apple-red.

    “God, Munson, why’d you have to do that…?” She brought his desk chair to his bedside, her touch gentle, featherlight as she brushed the damp hair off his forehead, feeling for his temperature. “You total dingus…” Her mind began to wander, her thoughts trailing off to nothing as she allowed herself a single indulgence; she let her hand trail down his face, the backs of her fingers soft against the light stubble of his cheek, tracing over the gentle edge of his jaw. Feeling the caress through the iron grip of his nightmare, Eddie leaned into her touch with another groan, chasing any relief he could find, its source be damned. He was so hot, and she was cold-

    “Hey, you alive in there?”

    That voice. Wincing as he swallowed against the dryness of his throat, Eddie peeled his eyes open, aching and miserable in a way he hadn’t felt since… well, since he’d been dragged out of the Upside Down. His chest burned, his hands itched, but all he could feel was the cool relief ghosting over his skin. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, his mind still a pitiful haze as he mumbled, “Angel…?”

    Angel. That was new.

    “Sorry, it’s just me.” Veronica tried to keep her smile out of her voice. She didn’t pull her hand away, letting it rest against him, her thumb rubbing slow circles over his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

    “Bad-” Eddie croaked, burying his face into his blanket as he let out a series of hoarse coughs, his shoulders shaking with the effort he expended trying to catch his breath, tears gleaming at the corners of his eyes as he calmed himself down. “Shit. Bad.”

    “I’m sorry.” Her response was genuine, honest. “Would some warm soup make you feel better?”

    “Not hungry.” he mumbled with a pout unbefitting his twenty years.

    Veronica rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she bit back her grin. “You can’t take your medicine on an empty gut.” At her words, a shiver ran through him - just the mention of medicine made his stomach roll, clench, flip; he buried his face back into the blanket, his breathing labored as he tried to keep himself from tossing his cookies all over the carpet.

    “What is it?” Veronica asked, suddenly panicked. “Are you-”

    Eddie nodded.

    Her head snapped around the room, searching for something she could give to Eddie to use, counting the seconds between his breaths as she finally found his trash bin. Dumping out the empty baggies and crumbled homework assignments, she shoved the thing at his face just as he’d started to heave. She held onto him - he clung to her - as he brought up whatever sorry excuse of a meal he’d had that day; pulling aside his hair, she rubbed at his back, mumbling soothing words, her touch grounding him as he pulled away, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

    “Feeling better?”

    “Still shit.”

    She leaned him back against the wall, propping him up with pillows to keep him comfortable as she left to flush away his impromptu escapade, returning with a glass of water. “Drink it.” She left no room for arguments, but he was too weak to even reach out for the thing, let alone bring it to his mouth. Veronica, again, rolled her eyes as he looked away, his own clenched shut in shame, his lips a thin line as he tried to keep them from quivering.

    “You’re something else, Munson, y’know that?”

    He didn’t argue with her.

    With the patience of a saint, she brought the glass to his lips, pausing often to let him breathe as she made sure he finished it off, leaving and returning with another - and a sleeve of saltines. “C’mon, big boy, you need to eat.” He shook his head, focusing on his breathing, slow and steady. She leaned in toward him, her hand back on his forehead, tender and sweet - she had to break out the heavy artillery. “Just one. For me, yeah?” She pressed the salty square to his mouth, watching with unfiltered satisfaction as he nibbled at the corner of one, then another, and another still, until he had downed half the packet.

    “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, pointedly ignoring his piercing glare. “Feeling up for that soup now?”

    With a stifled groan, he nodded, the emptiness of his stomach more uncomfortable than the prospect of eating. His gaze followed her out as she disappeared down the hall, something in his sickness-addled mind screaming at him to bring her back, to keep her with him; he tried to move but couldn’t, tried to shout but wasn’t able to produce any sound louder than a squeak. He wanted her, needed her - where was she? How long had she been gone? He couldn’t hear her anymore. Had she left? Was he by himself? As the seconds ticked by - hours to him - the lonely ache that he’d always kept at the fringes of his mind flooded into him, enveloped him, dominated his thoughts.

    He was alone, as he always was.

    “Hey, hey, whoa - what’s with the waterworks?” Veronica was quick to set the soup on his nightstand, falling back into her seat as she brought her hands - still warmed from the bowl - to Eddie’s face, catching his tears, wiping them away as they dripped onto his lap. “What happened? Your stomach hurt again?”

    “Y-You… You l-left…” he tried to say, swallowing against the aching knot in his throat. “You were gone.”

    “I was in the kitchen, remember? Getting your soup?” she ran a hand through his hair, making a mental note to brush it out later. “What, did you think I…” As the meaning of his words seeped into her mind, she felt her heart constrict, her stomach drop. “Eddie, did you think I went home?”

    He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

    How often had he been forced to do this by himself? To weather his illnesses on his own? As much as she knew the man loved his nephew, she couldn’t imagine Wayne staying home to take care of him - nor could she imagine Eddie letting him do such a thing.

    “I’m right here, dingus.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, still tight as she cradled the side of his face, pulling at him to look at her. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

    Again, he nodded, staring at her as though she were an angel. His angel.

    She fed him the soup, filling the silence between them with mindless chatter about the school day - rather, it was mindless to him. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand a word she was saying, his eyes already beginning to droop as she set the now-empty bowl aside.

    She watched as his head bobbed once, twice, smiling as she pulled at a few of the pillows behind him to lay him back down. “Sleepy?” she asked, tugging his blanket up to his shoulders, biting back a grin as he curled up and turned himself toward her.

    “Tired.”

    “I bet.”

    “Soup was good.”

    “I’m glad it was.”

    Veronica stood up, the bowl and half-eaten sleeve of crackers balanced in one hand when she felt something pull at the hem of her skirt, urging her to turn around.

    “Stay…?”

    “...Sure, Munson.” she relented, her sigh warm, balmy as her voice pulled him further into whatever dream his mind had chosen for him - something pleasant, she hoped. “I’ll stay.”

    Slowly, peacefully, Eddie drifted away, clinging to her hand as tightly as his sapped strength would allow, the smallest of smiles on his lips at the feeling of her beside him.

    “Christ, I feel like shit.”

    Eddie walked out into his living room, hands scrubbing at his face as he stumbled toward the kitchen in search of something to drink, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, chapped lips nearly to the point of bleeding.

    “Look like it, too.” Wayne called out from the couch, turning down the game he’d been watching before leaving for work - football, probably. Eddie was too exhausted to even pretend to care. “There’s still soup on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

    Eddie rushed into the kitchen as quickly as his sapped strength allowed - more of a hobble than a run. “Aw, Uncle Wayne, you shouldn’t have.” he croaked, lifting the lid, sighing as a salty cloud of steam reached his face. God, he was starving.

    “I didn’t.” Wayne kept his voice even in tone, watching as his nephew pulled a bowl from inside the cabinet beside the stove, digging through one of the drawers for a spoon, all the while biting back a grin. “The lil’ lady did.”

    Eddie dropped his spoon in the pot, hissing out a curse as he tried to fish it out, burning the tips of his fingers in the hot broth. “Veronica? She was here?” He stared at his uncle for some sort of clarification, but the man just shrugged. “When was this?”

    “Today.” Wayne said by way of reply, walking toward the solitary peg on the wall where he’d hang his coat. “Must’ve skipped school to come here, I think. Brought you all sorts of goodies.” At his words, Eddie finally noticed the plastic bag set atop the counter, filled with several more cans of soup, bottles and boxes of medicine - and, at the very bottom of the bag, pretzels. The tiny ones he liked to eat at school.

    She’d remembered the kind he liked.

    Memories of earlier that day slowly trickled into his mind - Veronica in his room, feeding him, calming him down. Him, in tears; her, holding his hand. As if he hadn’t already been feeling like a sentient pile of hot garbage, the fact that she had gone out of her way - skipped school, of all things - to look after him buried what was left of his crumbling pride.

    Wasn’t she upset with him? Didn’t she hate him?

    And, yet, she still cared.

    He felt like such a loser.

    “Don’t forget to take your medicine.” Wayne called out from the door, pulling his hat down over his balding head, hand already gripping the doorknob. “Every six hours, she said. Couldn’t get you to take it before.”

    Eddie waved off his uncle, his mind still reeling at the fact that Veronica had been there -  in his trailer, in his bedroom, with him. Tearing open the safety seal to a bottle of NyQuil, he grimaced as he took the measured amount, chasing down the green bile with a glass of water, all while thinking only of her.

    It took two days before Eddie was well enough to return to school, and his presence was met with a… mixed reception.

    “Veronica…!”

    Eddie struggled to shout above the waves of students ebbing and flowing through the halls, all eager to leave for the day, the sound of the final bell still ringing in his ears as he pushed his way forward. ”Veronica, please - just listen to me!”

    “Shove it, Munson.” her voice carried little, yet he heard it all the same, her words piercing his chest, his heart. Nonetheless, he continued after her, nearly knocking someone over as he pushed through the building’s front doors. He was paces behind her now - so close, yet still impossibly far away.

    “Please, I… Just let me explain!”

    “What could you possibly have to explain-”

    “Five minutes.” he begged, pleaded, his hands shaking as he held them at his sides. “Please… A-And then you’ll never have to talk to me again, I swear.”

    He stared at her, holding his breath as she turned around, hands set firmly at her hips. Even with the distance between them, he could see the pain in her eyes, certain they reflected his own. He let out a trembling exhale, tearing a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order, his lip worried to the point of bruising between his teeth.

    “What you heard that day, I… It came out wrong.” He swallowed, still watching her, the iota of confidence he’d had going into their conversation deflating as she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that-”

    “How did you mean it, then?”

    “Not the way you took it…!”

    Veronica let out a groan, pinching the space between her eyes, her head falling to her chest as she turned back around, frustrations mounting as she struggled with the lock on her bicycle. “I don’t have time for this.”

    Eddie found himself at an impasse, his unbridled need for her to just understand bringing him nearly to the verge of tears, the muddled desperation bleeding through his chest breaking his voice. “I-I miss you.”

    She froze, shoulders stiff, her hands stilling atop the chilled lock as she swallowed at the tightness coiling in her throat, her words soft and strained as she replied, “Eddie, don’t-”

    “I mean it, Veronica.” He took a half-step toward her, a cautious step, maybe just a tread. Still, she didn’t shy away from him; he took what little he could and bolstered his resolve. “And I’d rather you hate me and know that I do, than… than hate me and think that I don’t.”

    Hate him? Veronica spun back around, giving him a pointed look as if to say she’d never heard something so ridiculous. “I don’t hate you, I…” She blinked once, twice, before pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes, cursing herself for getting so emotional. “God, I just… I really thought we were finally friends, y’know?”

    “We are friends-”

    “Are we?” She hadn’t realized she’d raised her voice, drawing more than a few curious eyes from the students still gathered in the parking lot. “Because it sure as Hell didn’t seem that way when you were talking to Gareth!”

    "Forget Gareth! Forget that whole conversation!" Eddie started to pace, pulling at his hair, dragging his hands down his face as he tried to keep his breathing in check, failing miserably as he felt a sweltering heat work its way up his neck. “I was being a total dickhead, alright? I didn’t mean any of it! I was just talking straight out of my ass-”

    “God, seriously-”

    “I’m an idiot - I know! But, sweetheart, you have to believe me…!”

    He stopped, turning on his heel to look at her, swearing he could feel her indecisiveness; it made him want to scream, watching how uncertain she was, how her hands tugged at the hem of her cable knit sweater, gaze falling to her feet.

    And Eddie dropped to the ground, to his knees, hands reaching out, grabbing one of her own, his voice loud and booming as though they weren’t surrounded by dozens of inquisitive people. “Oh, will the beautiful princess spare a morsel of pity for this lowly knight?” As he continued on, Veronica couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips, her resistance withering away with each passing phrase.

    “Eddie, get up-”

    “Pray tell, shall ye bestow thine most benevolent forgiveness upon such a homely creature as I?” He didn’t care for the small crowd gathered around them, gawking at his display - some in annoyance, but more than a few in unspoken envy. His focus was solely on Veronica, on the way her warring thoughts were clear as day behind her verdant eyes, her expression a cautionary mix of sadness and… and hope.

    Calling forth what was left of his courage, he brought her hand to his lips, pressing the softest of kisses atop her knuckles, his touch lingering perhaps a bit too long before he lifted his head to look at her. 

    “Please, Veronica…?”

    “Get off the ground, dingus.”

    He scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving hers, his stomach leaping as he waited for her to speak, to sort through her thoughts.

    Veronica kicked at a pebble near her foot, her shoulders falling ever so slightly, braids swaying as she shifted from one leg to the other, her hesitation palpable. “You… You really hurt my feelings, Eds.” Her voice was small, quiet, and it pained him to hear it, knowing he was at fault.

    “I know - and I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

    She looked at him - truly looked at him  - and the shadow of a smile playing at her lips sent butterflies soaring through his chest. “So, what you said before… You didn’t mean it?”

    “Everything in that conversation can be regarded as false.” he answered quickly, his eagerness making her budding smile broaden, even if only a little. He took another reluctant step toward her, hands stuffed into his pockets, lip caught between his teeth as he asked, “So, are we okay? Are… Are we still friends?”

    And she shoved at his shoulder, rolling her eyes, her reply of, “Yes, you dweeb, we’re still friends.” sending an explosion of relief blooming through him, his body moving on its own accord as he picked her up in his arms, his head resting atop hers, his smile absolutely radiant as she returned his embrace with one just as tight.

    Eddie wiped the sweat trailing over his brow, shaking the nervousness from his hands as he made his way up Jeff’s driveway toward the open garage, guitar slung across his back, heart pounding in his throat. Inside, he could see the other three already gathered, practicing what he could only assume to be their Indy setlist; his stomach dropped, tightened as Gareth's words echoed through his mind.

    He had been neglecting the band; Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he’d played his Sweetheart, let alone practiced with them.

    The trio were quiet as he approached them, unsure of what to say, how to address him - and he deserved as much, he’d figured. It was only fair, considering how things had been going as of late.

    Thomas was the first to acknowledge him. "Hey, Eds." he called out, giving his friend a wave, breaking the frigid ice between them; Eddie gave a smile in return, hands deep into his pockets as he looked between the three of them, his mind wiped clean of the speech he'd prepared.

    “Look, I-” he began, but was… cut off? Jeff waved his hand around, shutting him up as he whispered something sternly to Gareth, pushing the younger man forward.

    “Look, man, before you start, Gareth’s got something he wants to say.” Another shove, and Gareth’s standing face-to-face with the repentant metalhead, tugging at his fingers, kicking his feet. "Don’t you?"

    Eddie watched, waited as Gareth took in a deep, steeling breath, hands twisting behind him as he worked through his thoughts.

    “Dude-”

    “I-I was wrong, for saying what I did.” Gareth’s voice, quiet as it was, carried through the open garage as though he’d been shouting, his apology hanging heavy between them. “I was just… angry, I guess…”

    Eddie blinked, still reeling from the shock of having received an apology at all - and from Gareth, of all people; he’d gone to the group fully prepared to grovel for his spot back in the band.

    “I… We… know how hard you’re working to graduate this time - and that stuff I said about Veronica was just…” Gareth continued, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked behind him to Jeff, who gave him an encouraging look. And, taking in a final breath, he quickly added, “I’m sorry, man. We all are.”

    Eddie shook his head, still in obvious disbelief; he took a step forward, crossing the length of the garage and dismissing Gareth’s extended hand altogether as he pulled the young man into his arms, his hold well past the point of tightening discomfort.

    “A-Alright, man!” Gareth laughed, both returning his friend’s embrace and struggling to escape from it; Eddie, finally relenting, turned to them all, his face tickled pink as he asked, 

    “So… uh… Am I back in the band?”

    “Dude, who said you ever left?” Thomas exclaimed, clapping a hand against Eddie’s shoulder with enough - albeit loving - force to knock him off balance, and the metalhead’s smile is blinding as he takes his usual position beside Gareth, strumming away at his guitar.

Tag List

@lulukings92 @i-me-mine @kaitebugg03

[6rookie-writer0110]

 Ella Montgomery, Ashley Marin, Pam Fields, and Veronica Hastings X male reader.

the four moms talking about their latest bedroom adventures.

Ella: I met this amazing guy, Well lets just say he made me cum more than once and god here I am a blushing mess for a younger man.

Ashley: I did also get a pounding of my life, he fucked me so good that im sure his cum is still inside me.

pam: I had sex for the first time since my husband died, he took such good Care of me and not to say anything but rocked my world.

veronica: I went to a bar Got a drink, say tis handsome man eyeing me and the next thing I know we’re in his car or more like on the back of his trucken a matress, tits out, me blowing him and him eating me out, then riding him, I Can for a fact say I have his cum inside me still, because it happend 2 hours before this

Ella: im calling y/n tonight

veronica: not y/n l/n right?

Ashley: where do you… dont tell me you also Had sex with him?

pam: guilty

the four of Them calls y/n to set up a plan.

Ella gets pregnant here.

1-2 years later

pam: so you know last time we had sex?, I thought I was too old but I guess im pregnant

y/n: thats great pam, just like we wanted

Ella: so we have had alot of sex, I guess what im trying to say is im pregnant again

y/n: oh thats great ella, giving a sibling to our daughter

Veronica: so y/n you know about the beesmand flowers right?

y/n: let me guess you’re pregnant

veronica: yes im sorry I didnt count on this, but I had hoped

y/n: thats fine, so that means im expecting 3 children with three women I have been dating/seeing

Ashley: 4 of Them actually, but hey its only fair, we all love you and only Ella has a kid with you, we all wanted one with you.

y/n: so all four of you are pregnant at the same time?, oh my god

Oh 😮😳

He is definitely busy

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Bad Parenting

Book: Desire & Decorum (modern day AU) Pairing: Prince Hamid x MC (Daphne) Rating: T Word count: 4613 Reading time: ~19 min Summary: Hamid is hosting an elegant dinner party to celebrate Daphne’s birthday. But the night won’t go as smoothly as he hoped when his daughter gets strangely fond to a very special kind of party decoration.  Based on the prompt: a powerful child video

Author's note:

Daphne Wang-Osmanoğlu, Talia Wang-Osmanoğlu, Veronica Dantas, Sevim Osmanoğlu, Nesrin Aksoy, Malak Osmanoğlu, Alisha Hastings-Sinclaire, Kaan Aksoy, Cengiz Aksoy and Elif Aksoy are creations of this author. The others characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios;

I saw this tiktok video last year and I’ve been dying to write a spooky story for Hamid and Daphne ever since. Instead of smut to celebrate MTB four years, I wrote humor with a dash of romance, fluff and a very peculiar toy 😂

This is seven years ahead of MTB’s current timeline, but you can easily read it if you have ever Hamid and Daphne’s story in this AU.

Hamid closed the door of his car and patted his jacket pocket to check if he didn't forget anything. "Wallet, phone, keys..."

"Baba!"

His lips curled upwards. As he looked down, his nineteen months old daughter beamed at him, stretching her little arms up. 

"Oh, I knew I was forgetting something!" He then crouched down to pick up his daughter, who kissed his cheek once she was in his arms. "Now I have everything I need."

"Baba, rain!" Talia pointed her chubby finger to the sky as a breeze blew against her bangs.

A lighting bolt cut through the grey sky as he looked up. 

"Huh..." He then glanced at his daughter in surprise. "Since when did you get so smart, kuzum¹? Is it all the broccoli your mum makes you eat every day?" He kissed one of her cheeks. "Or is it because of the weather song I got stuck in my head for over a week?"

He proceeded to pepper kisses over her cheeks as Talia giggled.

"Well done, my beautiful girl! Well done! By the way, I think this calls for your brand new rain cape."

"Yay!"

Humming the weather song, Hamid pressed one button on his car keys and opened the car boot. Once he put on the yellow rain cape on his daughter, he picked up an umbrella.

"There you go," he said, pulling the hood over her head. "Your mother will be so happy to know you look as adorable as she expected you'd be when she bought you this cape. Shall we take a picture to send her?"

The little girl cheered and smiled for her father as he snapped a picture.

He smiled softly looking at the picture for a moment. It still amazed him how much she looked like Daphne. Though Talia has his cheeky smile and most of his quirks, everything about his daughter reminded him of his wife.

"Baba!" Talia whined, tugging at the sleeve of his coat to reach for the phone.

"Okay, okay! I'll show you." Still holding the phone, he showed its screen to his daughter.

"Talia!" She cheered.

"Yes, it's you, kızım²! But now let’s go wait for Vee somewhere away from the rain."

Picking up his daughter, he closed the car boot and headed to the entrance of the superstore just before the first drops of rain hit the ground.

A few minutes later, Veronica climbed out of her car and approached them.

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic got crazier with the rain," Veronica apologised, closing her umbrella. 

"Vee!" Talia beamed.

"Hey, little munchkin!" Veronica greeted the toddler with a smile. "How is it that you look even cuter in person with your rain cape than in the pic your mum shared in the group chat?"

"Is it already in the group chat?" 

"Yup. Everyone is all heart eyes for this cute little face." Veronica then picked up the toddler to allow Hamid to find an empty shopping cart. "You do your thing while we take a stroll at the kid's section."

"Thanks for coming, Vee." 

"As if I'd miss a chance to smooch these adorable rosy cheeks," she said placing Talia on the cart seat.

Inside the superstore, Hamid went through his shopping list, keeping an eye on his daughter and friend from time to time. Once he had all the ingredients for the entree of the dinner party, he sauntered over to them as they reached the party decorations section.

"Baba!" Talia cheered, stretching her arms towards her father.

"Oh, bebeğim³!" Hamid beamed as he took the toddler in his arms, kissing the top of her head. "I missed you! Did you miss me too?"

His heart fluttered as her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "I'll take that as a yes." He then turned to his friend carrying a small shopping basket. "What were you girls doing?"

"Not much. We were passing by this section, Talia yelled 'party!' and I assumed she wanted to add something of her own choosing to her mum's party. As you can see, I was right."

Veronica grinned proudly and showed him the basket with Sailor Moon-themed napkins, iridescent party hats and packages with panda-shaped balloons.

"She pointed and you picked them up?"

"Yup."

Hamid chuckled. "I don't know how Malak will feel about it, but these are spot on. Daphne will love it."

"I know, right?" Veronica nodded.

"Baby!" Talia shouted.

"Baby?" Veronica asked.

"She must have seen someone passing by carrying a baby. She called any baby and her dolls Ollie because of Cordelia and Luke's son before Daphne and I taught her the right word."

"Baba! Baby!" The little girl shouted once more.

"Really? Where's the baby, kuzum?"

"Baby!"

 Talia then pointed towards floor-to-ceiling shelves with Halloween toys and decorations.

The two friends stared at the shelves filled with rubber spiders, skulls and other gruesome items and shared a glance.

"I'm—" His brows furrowed in confusion. "Do you see anything that looks like a baby here?"

"Umm..." Veronica looked at the shelf and made a face.

"Baby!" Talia shrieked as Veronica reached for a greenish doll with no hair, black holes instead of eyes and its body looked like it was stitched back several times to keep all parts together.

As the toddler hugged the toy, Hamid watched his daughter in a mist of dismay and amusement.

"This isn't a baby, kuzum. This is just a creepy doll."

"Cweepy..." The girl repeated.

"And you learned a new word." His brows went up. "That is..."

"Cweepy, cweepy, cweepy..." Talia said, smiling at the doll.

"Wooow..." Veronica marvelled.

"Is this normal, Vee?" 

"I don't know..."

"You're a renowned psychologist. How can you not know?"

"Hey, I don't work with children. Besides, the last time I studied anything related to toddlers, I still had a crooked nose and you used to say you enjoyed the process of making babies but didn’t think of actually having one."

"Cweepy, cweepy, cweepy..." Talia repeated, still smiling at the doll.

"Okay, let's put the creepy doll back with her creepy twins and head to the checkout counter."

Hamid then took the doll away from his daughter's arms and put it back on the shelf.

"No! Baby!" Talia yelled.

"That's not a baby, kızım," Hamid corrected as they began to walk away.

"Baby!!!" The little girl cried out one more time.

"Kızım?" Hamid looked at his daughter in shock.

With her eyes fixed on the creepy toy, Talia pouted. Her adorable face reddened as her eyes swam with tears. Before he could stop it, she wailed, stretching an arm towards the shelf with the creepy dolls.

"Kuzum..." Hamid pressed his daughter's head to his chest in hopes to soothe her. "We can't take that doll home."

"Still recovering from the fight over dressing up Talia as Chucky, huh?"

He grimaced. "Don't remind me. It ruined the celebration of seven years since we met and Daphne almost made me sleep in the guest room."

"Well, you'll have to figure out what to do now. Talia seems to like the creepy doll."

"What if I get her another doll? A cute one?"

"It won't hurt to try..."

Hamid and Veronica then marched to the kid's section. Though Talia stopped crying and was somewhat entertained by a pillow stuffed as a pug she kept calling "Dake", when they passed by a worker removing all Halloween decorations, the toddler burst into tears again trying to grab one of the creepy dolls.

"Kızım benim², please... You got the Drake pillow."

"Oh, man... this is heartbreaking..." Veronica frowned.

"I know it is, but I can't!"

"Can't you buy the creepy baby and hide it somewhere Daphne can't see?"

"You cannot be serious..." He said, still trying to calm his daughter.

"What else can we do? She won't stop weeping..."

"Baby..." The toddler continued to sob looking at the creepy doll.

"Ugh..." He shook his head. Veronica was right. He couldn't stand his daughter crying anymore. Still struggling with the idea, he approached the cart and Talia grabbed one of the creepy dolls.

The worker gave the toddler a look and chuckled.

"My son has one of these too. It scares the shit out of everyone and he loves it," the woman commented.

"Really?" Hamid asked with genuine curiosity.

"My parents said I'm a terrible mother for letting him keep the doll. I have an aunt who actually brought someone to check my home for paranormal activity, but oh well... My Jayden is happy, so who cares?"

He looked back at his daughter deeply entertained by the creepy doll. Talia's happiness is what mattered to him. He only hoped his wife would feel the same.

Once Hamid finished the salad, he headed towards the lounge area, where Talia played with Nesrin's children under Bartholomew and Yusuf's supervision. He let out a tired sigh as he caught the sight of his daughter still holding the damned doll and giggling.

"Allah Allah..." He grumbled.

"What?" Nesrin asked whilst adding more flowers to the centrepieces.

"It's Talia and the cursed doll..." Sevim teased.

"It's not cursed." He scowled.

"Are you sure? No one managed to take the doll away from her," Malak joked. 

"Hey, what if the doll is possessed by an evil spirit who put a spell on Talia?" Sevim grinned.

Hamid glowered at his younger sisters, who tittered in response.

"You two knock it off! The dining room won't decorate itself! Move!" Nesrin chastised.

Malak and Sevim grumbled but eventually left the lounge to decorate the dining room.

Veronica then placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about her. It's no big deal."

"Isn't it?"

"Of course not, sweetie. Talia doesn't understand the concept of horror yet. To her, the creepy doll is just like any other doll."

"Maybe she likes the creepy doll because she finds it funny when someone is scared or uncomfortable. You know... Like you do," Nesrin commented.

He grimaced. He did use to have fun scaring the shit out of his sisters, mother and literally anyone who was afraid of his scary toys, video games and movies. And even though he hated fighting with Daphne, he still couldn't get over the sound of Talia's giggles whenever she approached anyone on the streets whilst dressed as Chucky.

"Am I a terrible parent for this? I mean, she's obviously copying my behaviour." He frowned.

"She copies both of you, sweetie. Every little kid does. This is a natural process that neither of you has any control over," Veronica said.

"But why does she have to like the crazy things I do? Can't she like just the cutesy stuff Daphne does?"

"Give her time, abi. Soon she'll forget the doll and you can get rid of it."

Veronica nodded in agreement.

"I still have to hide that thing before Daph comes home."

"Choose somewhere away from Maya. Daphne will certainly notice this," Bartholomew pointed to Maya on her cat tower with her pupils dilated, puffed tail and snarling at it. "And don't even get me started on Drake."

"Allah kahretsin...⁴"

"Abi, why don't you take Talia to her room?" Yusuf chanted from the lounge. "It's almost time to feed her. She might let go of the doll to hold the bottle and you can hide the doll." 

"That's not a bad idea..." Veronica said.

"It could work," Nesrin agreed.

"Yes! Thank you, Yusuf!" Hamid sighed in relief. "May Allah bless your cleverness, kardeşim⁵!" 

"No problem, abi," Yusuf replied with a smile.

"You should probably start heating up her milk now, Hamid. I think this little one is gonna need it soon," Bartholomew declared as he picked Talia up and grimaced. 

"Oh yeah." Yusuf made a face and waved a hand before his nose. "She'll definitely be hungry soon."

Everyone laughed.

"All right… I got it." Hamid chuckled as he picked his daughter up and took her to change diapers.

Some of the guests have already arrived whilst Hamid watched his daughter feed from her baby bottle. Finally getting his daughter to let go of the doll seemed easy enough. Now he just had to hide it.

He was about to grab the doll when the door opened.

"I heard this is the place we can find a little lamb," Harry beamed at the sight of Talia.

"Look who's here, kuzum!" Hamid pointed towards Harry, who walked in carrying a package in his hand. "Welcome, Harry!"

"Thank you, Hamid. I hope I'm not intruding."

"Don't worry about it. She's just finishing her bottle."

Harry then leaned to kiss Talia's head. "Hello, my beautiful— Oh!" He then pulled away as he saw the doll.

Hamid grimaced.

"Veronica told me about the doll, but I didn't expect it to be this scary..." Harry commented with a chuckle. "Did she really choose it on her own?"

"Yep. Loud and clear for every single person at Tesco to hear it."

Harry made a face. "What are you going to do about the doll?"

"Hide it before Daphne sees it, then throw it away hoping Talia won’t miss it?"

"Ooof... Talia did take after you on the mischief, huh?"

"I never thought I'd wish so badly for her to be just like Daphne."

"You'll be really thankful Talia isn't when she turns thirteen," Harry joked.

"Given how much trouble I gave my parents while growing up, I respectfully disagree."

"Heeeeey! The birthday girl is here!" Veronica shouted near the door to the nursery.

"Oh, sh—" Hamid stopped himself as his eyes met his daughter's."...ship."

Harry stifled a laugh. 

"Keep an eye on her while I hide the doll."

"You got it." 

Harry then smiled at his niece hoping to distract her with a random toy as Hamid grabbed the doll and looked for a place to hide it. But voices still could be heard in the hallway.

"Talia is being fed now, sweetie. Why don't you breastfeed her later, when you put her to sleep?" Nesrin suggested.

"You're right. I'll just check on her and come back," Daphne replied.

"But, yengeciğim⁶! You didn't even have a bite of the tiny sandwich rolls I made!" Sevim hollered.

"Mate, why haven’t you hidden the doll yet?" Harry inquired.

"Because Daphne always checks everything in here!"

"She's not going to do it now. It's her birthday dinner! She has guests to talk to!"

"Baby!" Talia beamed as she abandoned the empty bottle on the sofa and looked directly at the creepy doll in her father's hand.

"Oh, kızım..." Hamid frowned.

"Mate, focus!" Harry pointed to the door handle turning.

With no more time left, Hamid threw the creepy doll inside a drawer just before the door opened.

"Hey," Daphne greeted her husband, brother and daughter with a smile.

"Mama!" Talia cheered, stretching her arms towards her mother.

Daphne picked up her daughter, kissing the top of her head. "Oh, how I missed you, sweetheart! And you look so pretty in your new dress!"

Talia giggled as her mother kissed her cheek.

"Happy birthday, Daph!" 

"Thanks, Harry!" 

"I think I forgot your gift in the car, so I'll leave you guys to have a family moment and see you in the lounge?"

"Take an umbrella. It's pouring outside," Daphne mentioned.

"Will do." Harry waved to everyone and mouthed 'good luck' to Hamid before shutting the door.

"Bir tanem?" Daphne called as she sat down on the sofa, placing Talia on her lap.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing over there?"

"Nothing..." He shut the drawer and plastered his charming grin as he sauntered over. "Just tidying up the socks drawer."

"Is that so?" Daphne arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"You always say you never find the matching pairs..." Hamid shrugged.

"Hm..." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "It looks more like you're hiding something from me, but I'm not going to complain if you did tidy up Talia's socks in the process."

"I—" He mockingly gasped as he sat next to his wife and daughter. "You wound me, aşkım."

"Oh, get over it," she teased and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"How was work?" 

"Same as always," she replied, using a piggy-shaped hairbrush to brush Talia's hair. "Two more paintings arrived to be restored, Cezanne exhibit is ready to be launched. The only new thing was my office at the Tate cramped with flowers today."

"Really? From who?"

"Tate staff, my students and the art department at London Metropolitan, your parents, Ali and Sanem, Ahmet amca and Halime yenge, lady grandmother."

"Is she well? How did her surgery go?"

"She said her back is fine. No more pain. I'm thinking about travelling to Edgewater to see her after the exhibit is over. What do you say?"

"That's a great idea, my love. I miss Edgewater. Anything else?"

"Hm..." She squinted her eyes, pretending to think about it. "I also got a box of chocolate truffles and this enormous tulips and roses bouquet from someone who didn't sign the card."

"Oh?" He feigned surprise.

"It just said 'Who knew I'd find the place I can truly call home within the heart of a beautiful woman dressed as a heaven-sent creature at a Halloween party at a sorority in Cornell?'"

"No signature? How cryptic..." 

"I know, right?" 

The two of them chuckled.

He then kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and her lips. "I meant every word. Happy twenty-seventh birthday, my dove."

"You didn't have to... You already gave me the earrings and organised dinner."

"But I couldn't not send you flowers. It's one of my 'send my wife flowers' days!"

She giggled. "You're so silly..."

"It’s the least I could do after what happened on our special day.” 

“Aw…” 

“Did you like them?"

"I love them. Thank you, bir tanem."

"You're welcome."

"Cweepy..." Talia mumbled, staring at the drawer in which the doll was hidden.

"What?" Daphne pulled away.

Hamid then faked looking at this wristwatch. "Oh, man... look at the time! We can't stay here all evening when we have guests. We should join everyone outside." 

"Hamidciğim, our baby just learned a new word!" She said, adjusting her daughter's pigtails.

"Yeah, it happened this afternoon whilst she was watching a My Little Pony Halloween special today." 

Standing up, Hamid helped Talia up and offered his free hand to his wife.

"But words with 'R' are more complicated. We should teach her the right pronunciation," she insisted.

"Aşkım..." He put the toddler down and took his wife's hand in his. "I know you're excited she learned a new word, but it'll take years for Talia to properly pronounce words with R. And right now we have guests waiting to celebrate your birthday with you."

"I guess you're right..."

"We have plenty of time to help Talia expand her vocabulary later."

"Okay."

As Hamid helped his wife stand up, his eyes widened when he noticed the toddler trying to open the drawer closed with a safety latch.

"Talia, we've talked about this. No opening drawers," Daphne chided and took her daughter by the hand. 

The little girl scowled as she was pulled away from the dresser.

"Don't you dare look at me like that, young lady," Daphne warned as she used her thumb to undo the frown on her daughter's face.

"She's getting so stubborn... I wonder who she took after to be like this..." Hamid joked.

"Oh, shut up..." Daphne grumbled.

Chuckling, Hamid opened the door for his wife and daughter and followed them to the lounge.

The blues song playing in the background could barely be heard in the dining room. Surrounded by friends and family, the couple engaged in many conversation topics over tea and slices of cake.

"Alli, thank you so much for the cake! It looked so nice and it tastes even better!" Daphne praised. 

"You're welcome, dear." Alisha then turned to Hamid. "I don't remember how you say it in Turkish, but bravo, my friend! The red lentil soup was to die for. The whole dinner menu by the way was brilliant," Alisha commented.

"Everything was delicious," Luke mentioned.

"Yes, especially the magret de canard," Ernest added.

"Thank you, everyone. Thank you! I had help from my sisters, Veronica, Yusuf and Bart with everything, but thank you." Hamid grinned.

"Aw, look at him finally learning how to be humble," Briar joked. 

"But of course, I planned and cooked most of the dishes myself right after I arrived from work," he continued.

"Aaaand he's back to being a braggart." Annabelle pursed her lips.

Everyone laughed.

"Oğlum⁷, that's enough," Nesrin admonished as her son grabbed a fist full of cake from his father's plate.

"Baba said I could have his cake," Cengiz pouted.

"Kardeşim, let Ceycey have a bit more. Please," Hamid said, his eyes matching the pleading ones of his nephew.

Nesrin rolled her eyes but caved. "Fine..."

"Yay!" The kid lifted one arm into the air and stuffed cake into his mouth. "Phamku damyim!"

All the adults chuckled.

"No problem, Ceycey!" 

Hamid ruffled his nephew's hair before the kid ran towards the lounge.

"If he poops in his trousers again, I'll make you and Kaan clean him, his trousers and the loo," Nesrin warned.

"It won't be my first rodeo anyway..." Hamid gave his shoulders.

As everyone in the dining room engaged in an intense conversation about children's poop, diaper brands and potty training, the high-pitched screams of the kids suddenly startled all the adults, who rushed to the lounge. As they arrived, most of the kids ran to hide behind their parents, Drake grunted hiding between Lord Vincent and Harry and Maya growled from the top of her cat tower.

"Anne, bu lanetli oyuncak bebek!" Talia's cousin, Elif, cried, hiding her face in Nesrin's stomach.

"What?" Briar asked as she tried to calm down her own children.

"Elif said the doll is cursed," Yusuf replied.

"But it isn't," Bartholomew added.

"Are you sure?" Luke made a face.

“Darling…” Cordelia nudged her husband and shook her head. 

Annabelle glanced at her spouse suppressing a chuckle and nudged her. "Did you know about this?" 

"Long story, honey..." Veronica murmured.

“That you will tell me all about later?”

“Oh, definitely! You’re gonna love it.”

Oblivious to the whispers, Hamid grimaced watching his wife disguise her fear behind a fake smile as she approached her daughter playing with the creepy doll. 

"Can somebody get that..." Daphne asked, pointing to the spooky toy. "...thing off my daughter's hands?" 

But as Lord Vincent bent over to reach for the doll, Talia held it tightly. 

"No!" The little girl scowled. 

Between wary looks and a few suppressed chuckles, Lord Vincent picked up Talia whilst Harry distracted her with the doll.

"Where the heck did this thing come from?" Daphne inquired, watching in horror as her child interacted with the doll.

"I have no idea, sweetheart. I was watching the news with Kaan and your brothers when the kids hopped on the sofa screaming," Vincent replied, looking as confused as most of the guests.

"It was Sevim and Malak's turn to watch the kids," Edmund mentioned.

"Wait, didn't you take Talia to the nursery to check her diaper, Sevim?" Kaan asked.

Daphne's head snapped towards her youngest sister-in-law.

"Don't look at me like that, yenge. All I did was follow Talia to her room and open a drawer for her. I just thought she wanted her new toy." Sevim raised her hands in defence.

"Her what?!" Daphne could barely hide the distress in her voice as she turned to her husband.

"I can explain..." Hamid tried to reason.

"Can you now?" Daphne narrowed her eyes.

"But first, how about we go fetch that Bordeaux you were talking about earlier?" 

Placing an arm around her frame, Hamid guided his wife towards the kitchen. 

"We'll be right back, everyone."

Looking over his shoulder, he glared at Malak and Sevim giggling before disappearing into the hallway. They were so going to pay for this. But now he had pressing matters to attend to.

"What the hell?!" Daphne asked through gritted teeth as soon as Hamid closed the door.

"Aşkım, I—"

"Don't your dare to soften the blow by calling me aşkım! Why did you buy a cursed doll for our daughter?"

"It's not cursed..."

"How the hell do you know?! That thing doesn't even have eyes!" 

Hamid’s shoulders slumped. After fighting on the night they were supposed to celebrate seven years since they met, this wasn’t how he expected things to go. Yet, he couldn’t deny it would be a hilarious situation if his wife wasn't so scared of anything that resembled the china dolls her grandmother owned that were often visited by “ancient spirits”.

"You know how I feel about this kind of dolls! I’ve told you so many times! Why did you do this?"

"I know, my dove. And I'm so sorry..." He apologised as he took both of her hands in his. "But it doesn't mean it's cursed. This is just a very ugly doll Talia found at the party decorations section at Tesco."

"Couldn't you have bought her literally anything else?

"I tried! That's why we have the Drake pillow now. But she liked the damned doll and she cried non-stop when I took it away from her."

"Talia cried over it?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm almost sure half of the staff at Tesco will refer to me as the dude who got his daughter a creepy doll every time I go there."

"But why that thing out of all the things she could have picked?"

"I don't know... Maybe she just finds it funny when other people get scared. Remember the video I recorded when I went trick or treating with her?"

"Some of our neighbours must be having nightmares about that afternoon." She pursed her lips.

"It wasn't that bad..."

"She literally chased down five kids while dressed up as a doll possessed by a serial killer!"

He closed his eyes as the urge to laugh came to him again.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!" Daphne berated.

"You're right. Sorry... But let me I remind you Talia is just a nineteen-month-old toddler. She doesn't truly understand what she's doing. She probably thought of it as playing tag."

"Do you think so?"

He nodded. "It may a bit odd that she likes spooky stuff at a such young age, but as far as I know, it's not uncommon."

"Can Vee confirm that?"

"Yes. And so does an article from that babies magazine you read sometimes."

“You don’t read that magazine…”

“Nesrin does.”

"But what are we going to do?"

"Wait a few days. Eventually, she'll get tired of it and we can throw it out."

"A few days?!" Daphne frowned.

"Aşkım, this is not like one of those old china dolls Grandma Wang used to keep. It doesn't have any hungry ghosts or ancient spirits. Despite the looks, it's a brand new doll. It's just creepy."

"FYI, that's just like the premise of Child's Play."

"You do know you're mentioning a fictional piece of media, right?"

"Based on real-life events!" She folded her arms.

Pulling her close, Hamid kissed the top of her head as she hid her face on his chest.

"My love, I promise we'll be fine. As soon as Talia falls asleep, I'll lock the doll in the safe. Evil spirits can’t unlock safes."

“You don’t know that!”

“Who says it won’t work? No one has ever tried that before.”

She huffed, finally giving in to his hug. "I hope you know the only reason you're not sleeping on the sofa tonight is because I need you close to me in case that creepy thing is possessed.”

"Of course... I'll even ask your father the archbishop's phone number just in case we need someone to drive out any evil spirits or demons."

“Okay…” She then poked him in the ribs as he began to chuckle again. "Don't laugh..."

"I would never... Shall we return to our guests?"

As she nodded in response, they grabbed the bottles of wine from the kitchen cabinets and headed to the lounge.

The adults were in deep conversation about urban legends when Daphne and Hamid returned. As Talia saw Daphne, she rushed to her mother holding the doll.

"Mama! Baby!" The little girl beamed showing her mother her new doll.

Once again, Daphne faked a smile. "Oh, kuzum! That's… Um… Hamid?" She glanced at her husband as despair clouded her features.

"Okay, I got it." 

Whilst Daphne joined her friends, Hamid picked up his daughter and asked Lord Vincent for the archbishop's phone. Just in case.

-----

¹ kuzum: my lamb; term of endearment commonly used by parents to refer to their children that can be translated as my darling.

² kızım (benim): my daughter 

³ bebeğim: my baby

⁴ Allah kahretsin: God damnit

⁵ kardeşim: my sibling 

⁶ yengeciğim: my dear sister-in-law 

⁷ oğlum: my son

[storiesofsvu]

Would you be willing to write a steamy Veronica Hastings x f!reader one shot??

No.

Ive officially taken the PLL characters off the masterlist.

[tmlwattpad19]

Are there any updates to the Veronica Hastings x reader series you were thinking about? Any teasers? No rush! Just curious. Veronica needs more recognition!

i wish there were! i’ve been slumped with catching up on schoolwork before the very last day, but worry not. there shall be more to come soon… hopefully. 😭😭

[plegdoctor]

"Of course I noticed, I notice everything about you." for greentia?💖

(I'd like to preface that I made this a history au because of course I did, but my history writing skills are incredibly rusty as of late so I've basically just mixed a hundred different time periods together, pls accept my sincerest apologies x)

“So what do you think they’ll be like?” Veronica asks nervously. She leans forward to look over at the door, and even under her many layers of skirts, Tia can see that her leg is bouncing up and down in the anxious fashion that it often does. She places her hand on it in a gesture that’s intended to be comforting.

“I think they’re all going to be old and rich and take you to lock you up in their huge estates never to see the sun again. It’s only when you wake up with a pain in your neck that realise the reason no sun ever enters your sumptuous bedroom: your new lover is a vampire!” Tia lunges at her friend at the climax of her little story. Veronica falls back giggling, taking her fan out to hit Tia with it.

“Don’t be such a jest!” She tries to admonish, but she cannot hide her smile. “This is a big day for us, Tia.”

As much as Tia might roll her eyes, Veronica is ultimately right. They’ve been trained for this day since they were small girls, tumbling over each other in their short dresses, discussing what kinds of husbands they might want to marry in the future, all the children that they’ll have, and how all their children will be best friends just like them. As they got older it became a lot more real, Tia realises, until they’re both eighteen years old being fitted for their dresses for the ball where they will dance until they receive a proposal.

The thing is, Tia isn’t sure she wants a proposal. She’s been to balls before, spinning around the floor with gentlemen and gossiping in the corner with Veronica, but never has there been such a pressure on her. Never has she been squeezed into such an exquisite dress and prepped thoroughly by her mother and older sister.

“Remember to smile at them Tia. Becomingly.” Her sister advised.

“Yes and try not to talk so much. Gentlemen much prefer a silent wife.” Her mother offered.

Tia rolls her eyes just thinking of it now. “Did I tell you that my mother told me not to talk so much?”

“No you did not. She should probably know better by now, I think you’re physically incapable of not talking, my dearest.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Any gentleman who wants a silent wife simply need not put his name on my dance card.” Tia tilts her head to rest on Veronica’s shoulder. She surveys the room with interest, looking at all their acquaintances. The group of girls have practically grown up together meeting at dances and dinners alike where they hide behind fans to cast disparaging remarks about cousins that ask to dance with them. Veronica notices her gaze and picks up the conversation appropriately.

“Lady Elleanor looks lovely tonight, don’t you think?”

“Indeed. I do admire her strength against her dear mother. Mine refused against that colour saying that I’d look like a cupcake.”

Veronica chuckles. “The dressmaker told my mother that too. Perhaps she was weary against any of us wearing the same colour.”

“I’m glad she made you stick to your usual. You look a picture in green.” Her compliment is delivered quietly. It’s odd, the blush that covers her cheeks as Veronica smiles demurely and thanks her. She should be able to compliment Veronica without concern – they have been friends for years, after all. But her heart always beats quicker beneath her bodice whenever Veronica tucks a piece of brown hair behind her ear at Tia’s words.

“And you in orange.”

Tia opens her mouth to reply but shuts it with haste as Veronica leaps up, grabbing her arm. “They’re coming.” She hisses.

The two of them hurry from their place at the window seat to join the throng. Aurora fusses her hair while Cherry lights up the group with her nervous laughter. They all hold their breaths as the door opens and the gentlemen walk in.

Tia narrows her eyes as she looks them all over. She picks a few out of the crowd: Lord Chaney, recently inherited his estate and reportedly in want of a wife, Lord Black who is well known for being kindly amongst the girls, and Lord Lemon who quite frankly is a complete wildcard to them all. Out of the corner of her eye, Tia can see Pip shift excitedly as Lord Lemon enters.

“Who do you think?” Tia murmurs into Veronica’s ear, bending down to reach her short stature.

“I don’t know.” Veronica teeters on her tiptoes to see over Tayce’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine anyone would be awful.”

The hesitation in her voice throws Tia off for a moment. She thought that Veronica never faltered from their childhood desires but perhaps… perhaps she did. Perhaps she has.

They sweep into curtseys as the men descend. Veronica averts her eyes in a perfect display of modesty while Tia stares. She doesn’t mean to be rude – she just likes to know who is approaching. As expected Pip (or she should probably refer to her as Phillipa now, as she’ll be the future Lady Lemon by the end of the night) is swept away by Lord Lemon and the pair couldn’t be more matched if they tried. Tia sighs happily for them.

“Aren’t they a perfect couple?” She says offhandedly, but upon looking down she realises that Veronica is gone. She turns her head in pursuit of the girl in the green dress and sees her dancing with Lord Black.

“Of all the vampiric looking gentlemen.” She grumbles under her breath. There are more women than men, and the first dance has already begun. Tia retreats back to the window seat. Instead of looking at the dance she turns her face towards the gardens. They’re magnificent – lush green grass dotted with flowers, tall bushes that obscure those who stroll unchaperoned. Tia aches for the cover of those bushes. She feels suddenly hot and stifled in the ballroom.

As subtly as she can, Tia weaves her way to the door. She sneaks a look over her shoulder as she exists and – upon seeing her mother and sister wrapped up in conversation – escapes to the gardens.

The cold air hits her, sending a shiver down her spine. Her hands curl into fists, an attempt to warm her chilling fingers. She finds a small stone bench and sits down upon it, hoping to deftly untangle her feelings, pick them apart like her failed embroidery.

The only conclusion she can draw is one that is plain and simple: she loves Veronica. But this fact is not unknown. They love each other, everybody knows that the two of them are the dearest of friends. They can’t bear to be separated, and on the few occasions that they are, their staff catch them writing long detailed letters to one another.

The thought occurs that maybe her love for Veronica is a little stronger than friendship.

Which may explain the sharp green jealously that pricked her heart when she saw her green girl spun by the man in black.

“Tia! Where are you?” The reedy voice that comes, lifted by the winds, is familiar because she hears it in her best waking moments and her best dreams.

“I’m here, Veronica.”

The wave of relief she feels when her spindly arms wrap around Veronica’s waist, the shorter girl throwing herself at her and squeezing tightly, is impalpable. “Are you okay?” Veronica asks into her hair.

When they pull away, Veronica seats herself beside Tia and takes both hands in hers.

“I am well, Veronica.”

Veronica scoffs, throwing her hair behind her shoulder with a dismissive flick of her head. “Please. I would rather like to not be deceived by you tonight, Tia. Have we not been bound by the ties of friendship for long enough?”

“I assure you Veronica, everything is –“

“I know that you’re not upset that you didn’t get chosen for a first dance. Because I know you don’t want to marry any of those gentlemen, do you?”

“You noticed that?”

“Of course I noticed. I notice everything about you.” Veronica admits softly. The confession carries itself on hope, slipping into Tia’s heart and flooding her with warmth. “Because I feel the same.”

And in no time at all they’re kissing, soft lips on soft lips, hungry hands curled into hair. Tia is grateful for the tall bushes that shield them from nosy glances.

“And Lord Black won’t mourn the loss of his dancing partner?” Tia murmurs into her lover’s lips. She feels them curve into a smile.

“No. He was rather fixated on Cherry.”

“Excellent. Well then Lady Green, that only leaves me with one questions. Can I have this dance?”

“For you, Lady Kofi? You can not only have this dance, but also my heart.”

And the two of them danced until the end of the evening, perfectly together, surrounded only by the soft sounds of nature and the other’s gentle heartbeat.

[aubreycasuallyobsesses]

Sweet, Sweet is the Greeting of Eyes pt. 1

Lady Veronica x Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

Summary: It’s 1819 England—two young adults have found a mutual admiration for each other over hours of exchanging words about poetry, literature, science and the arts. The first, Lady Veronica, is wealthy beyond imagination, but so isolated in her country home. The second is Forsythe Pendleton Jones III, an academic who thrived while educating the underprivileged youths of London. The bond they slowly form over time is what they both want and crave...but what did it all mean for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

Notes: Oh my god. This is my first ever actual fic, let alone a regency!au, I hope you like it @kindnessinpain2000 , time got away from me this month, but this was fun to create! I really loved all your requests, but this vibe really stuck in my mind. I think I’ll probably do 1-2 more parts if you love this...Happy Holidays love! Also, I know the title is from a John Keats poem he wrote in a letter in June 1818, to George and Georgiana Keats - which was first published in 1925, but I swear it’s something they’d exchange in this fic, so I’m going with it. 

Warnings: Honestly none, maybe just some major slow burn, and a touch of the typical moody Jughead we know and love.

X

It was 1819 and spring was finally here. As he approached Pembrooke, hired on as a tutor by one of the wealthiest families on this side of Oxford, he couldn’t help but miss the city. The constant change of faces, never-ending booksellers and his students. He taught underprivileged teens and young adults how to read. Watching each come alive while reading his favorite literature was fascinating to him. Leaving London for permanent employment at a country house didn’t spark anything thrilling for him, but the financial security felt like a need due to unforeseen familial issues that recently arose. Little did he know his entire future would be upended soon enough.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones III was an academic who had a way with words. Compared to others of a similar age, he was incredibly well educated. With a swath of floppy dark brown waves, a stare that could pierce one's soul and an air of mystery behind his eyes. Women of all ages noticed him. He was never one for romance, he could be, but no one intrigued him longer than a few minutes. That is until he walked into the entrance hall of the country home. He was greeted by The Lord and Lady Pembrooke and more specifically their only daughter, Lady Veronica.

As the weeks passed and time turned to months, he fell into a simple routine, or as simple as one could get existing within this environment. His mornings consisted of tea, reading alone in the study prior to making his way to the north library for daily education. He tutored Lord Pembrooke’s young nephews from Spain, who now lived in England year-round. Although compared to his typical London pupils, they had been exposed at an early age to some of the best literature, art, music, mathematics, and sciences one could afford. However, just like his former pupils, the boys still had that spark in their eye and an excitement for learning. Most days were spent this way, with evenings in the library, where he often read aloud to the family and distant relatives or friends of the Lord and Lady who spent weekends in the country.

During the seemingly endless evenings immersed in a book, he grew to look forward to Saturdays most. This was when Lady Veronica read to the boys in the afternoons while he prepared the lessons for the following week. Oftentimes he found himself distracted and lost in thought while she took over the study with her voice, which was so unlike him. Where were these thoughts creeping in from, why her of all people, it’s not like he had a chance to ever publicly declare he had these thoughts about her. They were from two very different backgrounds, while he was well off and had some slight social advantages, her father would never allow for their lives to intertwine romantically.

It was after one of these weekend afternoons, while he was lost in a recently published science essay for the boys Monday lessons, that he looked up just as Lady Veronica passed by the desk and softly dropped a small envelope on his never-ending stack of textbooks. After they shared a mutually discreet glance, she was gone from the room. Although he was anxious to rip the parchment open and delve into whatever she had written to him, he slowly collected his papers, books, quills, sure to not forget her mysterious note and with haste escaped to his living quarters in the north wing. Once inside, he settled at his chair near the window to unseal the unassuming note. He was immediately caught by her graceful and quickly scrawled words. It was not known that he had a fondness for the romantic sonnets of the past and present, but more specifically Lord George Byron. How she had known this, he assumed was purely coincidental.

And like music on the waters    Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean’s pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull’d winds seem dreaming:                Meet me in the garden at half-past dusk tomorrow...LV.

Moving from the window to his desk, removing a quill, some parchment and settling in to contemplate how to reply. He needed to write something in such a way that conveyed every thought of her that occupied his mind, without seeming entirely too infatuated or overbearing,  he scrawled down, not his own words, but Percy Bysshe Shelly.

Thy gentle words are drops of balm

  In life’s too bitter bowl;

These choicest blessings I have

       known.

Harriet! If all who long to live

 In the warm sunshine of thine eyes, -F

After sealing the small note, Forsythe needed to find a moment to slip it to her unnoticed. The family resided in the east wing, which he rarely ventured to. It needed to be inconspicuous; however, he could hardly ask her lady’s maid, Elisbeth to hand off the note to her without stirring up whispers among the others. He decided to wait until after their shared family meal, and while he selected a book to read that evening. She routinely wandered the library and would choose favorites for him to read passages from, while Lord and Lady Pembrooke said their goodnights to the boys prior to joining for the evening. Tonight while he handed off a Wordsworth’s An Evening Walk and Descriptive Sketches, to her, they shared a quick glance and brushed fingertips. With his small token of admiration tucked inside the cover.

The night passed excruciatingly too slow for him. The following day, while he enjoyed the time spent delving into their expansive literature collection, he wanted nothing more than to somehow speed time and space up to get through the next day. Although he had a leisurely day of riding with Lord Pembrooke in the northeastern Cotswolds, on which Pembrooke sat with all of its stately, silent power - his mind was consumed entirely by Lady Veronica throughout the afternoon outing. Lord Pembrooke continued to engage in conversation with him throughout the day gone, most of which consisted of him trying to convince Forsythe into participating in his humorous antics with his valet and the young men who rode along. It was a pleasant escape from the normal academic rigors of the last weeks, but he wanted nothing more than for dusk to finally arrive.

With time finally on his side, he made his way out the north side exit to the sweeping gardens south of the home, he couldn’t help but feel a small sliver of anxiety. This is not something he normally did. Secret stolen glances, mysterious garden strolls with a woman of her caliber were just not things Forsythe Pendleton Jones III participated in. But there was something different about Lady Veronica. She was an enigma. Other ladies of a similar age were already well acquainted with love and romance, oftentimes already marrying a gentleman of significant family power and notoriety. Yet, here she was, sharing mutual glances with him over literature. Discussing the works of today’s most influential authors and poets with him in the study throughout the days. How had fate placed her in his path, was this to be a fleeting moment or the start of something more.  

Lost in wandering a section covered in soft moss and wildflowers near the outskirts of the garden, he hadn’t heard her approach. Suddenly she was next to him and he was unable to form a coherent thought to create a sentence. Luckily for him, she took the lead, “Hello Forsythe, I see you have found yourself in my absolute favorite section of my mother’s garden, shall we walk?” She slipped her graceful hand into the nook of his arm and thus began their secret conversations.

As they wandered aimlessly throughout the Pembrooke’s unparalleled garden, they shared slowly about their favorite topics, uncovering what made their minds operate. When each realized, unbeknownst to them, that this was not going to be a singular incident. They were discovering that there was another soul in the universe that related to their own mind, even heart, so closely. Just as they were rounding another corner of the labyrinth they had aimlessly strolled into, thunder was heard above. Soon enough it was a ceaseless rainfall. Removing his tailcoat and draping it over her small frame, they found refuge from the summer storm, in the small garden pavilion.

While waiting for the rain to cease, they sat in comfortable silence. Each reveling in the absolute quiet that always happens during a particularly hard rainfall. While she watched the garden and contained all the words that he too was holding back for fear of breaking the magic spell that fell over them. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander again. To all of the countless times he had admired, not just her mind, but her outward beauty as well. She had dark hair, just a shade darker than his own, nearly the color of a raven’s feathers. With facial features that he saw as almost exotic compared to other women he saw while living in London, yet her face was also so familiar to him. Lost in his own mind yet again, he hadn’t noticed that she glanced over while he leaned back against the pillar of the stone pavilion. With a smirk on her face and a devilish glint in her eye, “Forsythe, dare I say we escape this cold night and make a run for shelter?”

After giving hardly any thought to the inquiry, “Oh, Lady Veronica, I thought you would like to stay here, with me and exist in this freezing realm of silence forever?”

With a laugh and a shake of her raven-haired head, she said, “I should never leave if I didn’t have to Forsythe.” Taking her hand, he whisked her into the storm across the garden, in the direction of Pembrooke.

As they ran towards the warmth of the fireplaces and dry clothing that awaited each of them inside. Unknown to each of them was what fate truly did have in store for them. The neverending hours wandering the gardens, learning the deepest feelings of one another. The endless laughs exchanged over comedic books, reading poems, literature and countless notes covertly exchanged. What it all meant for their own futures - both together, and singularly.

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you do one where reader is Veronica's shy girlfriend and reader has a panic attack and veronica comforts her

Authors note: It took me really long to post it & I'm very sorry about it. Hope you like it, nonnie!!

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sun shone through the delicate curtains, bathing the bedroom in a warm, golden light as you stood at the warderobe trying to figure out what to wear to the elegant dinner. Today was a special day - the annual family reunion was coming up. Normally you were excited to see your family again, but this time it was different. This time you were bringing your girlfriend with you, and that was making you increasingly nervous.

Veronica wasn't like the other women you'd dated before. She was more mature, more experienced and almost twenty years older than you. Even though you had fallen in love with the lawyer, you weren't sure how your family, especially your father, would react. They were traditional and conservative, and the idea of you as a daughter dating an older woman would probably be met with very little approval.

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot in the bedroom and began to prepare. You put on a simple but elegant black suit and as you looked at yourself in the mirror and waited for the hair straightener to warm up, you couldn't help the doubt that rose within you. What would your parents think? And your siblings? Would there be an argument?

While you were lost in your thoughts, you didn't even noticed Veronica coming into the room. Only when her hand gently touched your shoulder and she pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek did you return to the present. "Ready for today, darling?"

It didn't take long for her to get a response while placing a hot cup of tea in front of you. "I'm nervous, very nervous." You spoke, leaning back, your head resting on her stomach. "Don't worry, love. We can do this together. I look forward to meeting your family."

You smiled weakly and took a sip of the warm drink before getting to work straightening your hair. Veronica was always so confident and reassuring, even in the most difficult moments. She gave you the courage you needed to get through this day.

After you got ready and took one last look in the mirror to correct yourself, you walked downstairs where your girlfriend was already waiting for you, ready. She grabbed the car keys and together you made your way to your family house. The drive there felt like an eternity and you could feel the nervousness in your stomach as you got closer.

Finally you reached your parents' house and the lawyer parked in front of the driveway. Your heart began to beat faster as you got out of the car and walked with Veronica towards the front door. When you opened the front door, you could already hear the muffled voices of your family inside.

With a deep breath, you entered with your girlfriend and were immediately greeted by your mother, who hugged you with open arms. "It's good to see you again, my child," she said lovingly. You returned the hug, forcing yourself to smile even though your insides were raging with nervousness. Then you turned around and saw your siblings also walking towards you, smiling.

"Y/n!! You're finally here!" your younger sister shouted, taking you into a big hug as well. "And who is this?" She added, pointing to Veronica who was standing behind you.

You swallowed hard and turned to your girlfriend, who was standing quietly behind you, a friendly smile on her lips and a slight air of authority surrounding her. "This is Veronica, my girlfriend." You introduced nervously, searching for her hand, which you quickly found.

There was an awkward silence, followed by curious looks and whispered conversations. You could literally feel the tension building in the room and your heart began to beat even faster than before. But then your mother stepped further forward and smiled warmly at her. "It's nice to meet you, Veronica," she said kindly, holding out her hand.

Veronica returned the smile and shook your mother's hand. "Thank you, it's a pleasure to be here," she replied politely and a sense of relief washed over you when you saw how kindly your mother responded to her. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The air was heavy with tension as you all gathered at the dinner table. Your parents, your siblings and you. And of course Veronica, your girlfriend, who is now getting to know your family for the first time. She sat next to you, her grip on your hand under the table light, and you could feel her meeting the tension with ease. Just like she had learned as a lawyer.

Your father, a serious man with a sharp look and a stern expression, immediately started asking questions as soon as the food was served. "Veronica, it is? How long have you known each other?" he asked, fixing her with a piercing gaze.

Your girlfriend took a sip of her wine with pleasure as she met him with a smile. "We've known each other for about two years," she replied calmly, squeezing your hand when she felt it start to shake. Your father, on the other hand, frowned as he examined her. "And how exactly did you meet?"

You felt an uncomfortable pressure building up inside you. These questions were not just curious, but had an underlying threat. You knew how strict your father could be, especially when it came to such personal matters.

Veronica paused for a moment before answering him. "We met in court. She was testifying in a murder case, as she was the lead detective on that case. I'm a lawyer, we worked together at the time."

Your brother, who was sitting next to you, looked at her with a skeptical look. You could practically feel him trying to read between the lines, looking for any clue that something was wrong with her. Meanwhile, you felt more and more uncomfortable. The pressure that your family was slowly but surely building seemed to be crushing you. You knew they were worried, but it felt like they were suffocating you in the process.

As your father asked more questions, you felt your breathing become shallower. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest and you could feel a panic attack building up within you. You tried to calm yourself, but the tightness in her chest became more and more intense.

Suddenly you couldn't think straight anymore. Your family's words blurred into a slurred murmur and you felt tears gathering in your eyes. "I... I have to... excuse me for a moment," you mumbled and jumped up before leaving the dining table and walking into the garden.

Your hands were shaking as you leaned against the pillar of the patio, trying to take a deep breath. The sounds from the dining room were muffled, but you could still hear the quiet hum of your family's voices.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself, but the pressure in your chest kept getting stronger. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you fought against the overwhelming feeling. Veronica hurried after you as you stormed out of the dining room and found you sitting on the patio, trying to calm your troubled thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly as she walked over to you and sat down on the stairs.

You sighed as you played with the rings on your fingers, your hands sweaty and shaking. "I'm sorry you have to endure this. I didn't want you to feel like you were being interrogated."

She let out a deep breath and wrapped an arm around your shoulders before pulling you closer to her. "It's okay, after all I didn't become a lawyer for nothing. You don't have to apologize, I'm doing this for you and you know I wanted to meet your family."

You smiled weakly, grateful for her support. "Thank you for being here and doing all this," you said and she squeezed your hand gently, looking deeply into your eyes. "I love you, and I'm sure your parents will like me. They're glad you have a family that cares about you."

You felt somewhat strengthened and determined by Veronica's words. You knew you had to pull yourself together to go back and face the challenge that lay before you. She stood up and held out her hand. You accepted it with a grin and she pulled you up, placing a quick kiss on your lips before heading back into the house, where you prepared to face the stares and questions of your family again.

As you approached the dining table, you noticed your father walking towards you. His expression was still serious, but there was also some relief in his eyes.

“Come here, my child,” he said gently, hugging you tightly. "I'm sorry if I put pressure on you by asking your girlfriend questions. I've been thinking about your relationship with Veronica for a long time, and I have to say, I see more clearly now. She's a remarkable woman, and I see, how happy she makes you."

You were surprised and touched by your father's words. A wave of relief and gratitude washed through you, and you knew that you had finally found the acceptance and support of your family.

With a smile, you turned to Veronica, who was standing next to you, and took her hand. He also turned to the older woman. His look was serious, but also full of recognition. "Veronica," he began, "I hope you take good care of my girl. She means everything to me and I trust you will make her happy."

The person addressed smiled warmly and nodded resolutely. "I'll take good care of her, I promise," she spoke, holding you tightly in her arms, and in that moment you both knew that you would not only take care of yourself, but each other as well, no matter what.

As the family reunion progressed and you both returned to the dinner table, you found yourself becoming more and more relaxed next to Veronica. You laughed with your parents, swapping stories and enjoying each other's company. Despite the initial concerns, everything felt just right.

At the end of the day, as you headed home, Veronica gently placed her hand on your thigh and smiled. "They seem really nice," she remarked quietly as she drove calmly through the streets. You nodded and smiled back, a tired but pleasing smile also reflected on your lips. "Yes, they really are. And I'm so glad you get along with my dad."

And as you enjoyed the sunset together on the way home, you knew that with Veronica by your side, you could do anything - even the family gatherings that were about to happen more often.

[prettylittleliarsstuff]

Veronica: you need to be nicer to your friends

Y/n: but my friends are dumb and they need to know

[adrenaline-roulette]

He’ll save every one of us Chapter 3

Brian May x Reader with side notes of Roger Taylor x Original female character 

Preview: “There was a contract type thing. Is it binding if it was written on greasy, fish and chip paper?”  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s still binding.” “You’re killing me Brian! Aren’t boyfriends supposed to be supportive?”

Chapter three: Kick him out!

“I just don’t understand how he can miss so many practises, and yet Bree won’t agree with me, and kick him out of the band?” You mutter, sitting behind Roger’s vacant drum set. Brian had invited you to Queen’s band rehearsal, with the promise of dinner afterwards. He had been raving about a small fish and chip shop, which he had been going to since he was a child. Once you had mentioned you had never been there, he had done everything in his power to ensure you would go, this had meant cancelling Friday night scrabble with the band, much to Freddie’s anger. Freddie was convinced the only reason why Brian had, conveniently, double booked his Friday night was because Brian knew he would never be able to beat his tripple word score for ‘Innuendo’ which had won him the game only last week. You kick the bass drum pedal twice, in an attempt to release your frustrations, though it does little to help. “I hate to be the barer of bad news Y/N, but didn’t Jake create the Midnight Librarians? Maybe Bree is worried about trying to kick him out of his own band?” Brian suggests, strumming a few chords on his guitar, making sure she was perfectly tuned, as always.

“Well, I mean yeah, he did, but, but… Why should that matter?”

“Because technically, if you were to kick him out of the band that he created, any money you get from the gigs you guys do, would go straight to him. If you signed any sort of contract or anything, saying you agree to be in the band with him.”

“Fuck, there was a contract type thing. Is it binding if it was written on greasy, fish and chip paper?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s still binding.”

“You’re killing me Brian! Aren’t boyfriends supposed to be supportive? Not to find flaws in my wonderfully thought out plans!”

Brian rolls his eyes, resting the Red Special down on his guitar stand. “Your wonderful plan was to stop playing in the middle of your next gig, walk up to him with a beer in hand, shout into the microphone, ‘Get the fuck off stage Jake, you’re fired.’, then pour the beer on his head.”

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!” You smirk, as you swivel around in circles on the drum stool. Brian was right, you ran the risk of losing all the extra cash you were making with your gigs this summer. Granted it wasn’t your only income, but the café you worked at had been giving you less and less shifts this past month, and with college about to go back, you had to save as much as you could!

“Plus, if he came up with the name, then he could make it so you were no longer able to use it…”

“Aha! Saved! I came up with the Midnight Librarians!”

Brian makes his way over to you,  his tall frame looming over you as you grin up at him, head tilted all the way back just to see him, bloody hell Roger had this stool set low! “Has he really missed that many rehearsals?

   You frown, trying to figure out when the last time Jake had shown up for practise had actually been. Granted, he had shown up for the all your other gigs so far, ever since that first night where you had met Brian. So that was better than nothing… “I don’t think we’ve rehearsed with him in close to two months. I mean, he came to rehearsal once, drunk as a skunk. Spent half an hour wondering around my apartment, searching for paracetamol, threw my pack of smokes out of the window, then collapsed in the bath and slept. That was a, productive, afternoon.”

Brian chuckles, resting a hand on your shoulder gently, rubbing soothing circles over your shirt. “Well, it sounds to me like you don’t really have grounds to kick him out, especially not without Bree’s agreement. He’s been coming to the gigs at least, I won’t comment on how well he sounds, but at least he’s been there. That makes it a little bit tricky to kick him out on the grounds of him not showing up…”

The door to the practise room swings open, just as you pout up at Brian, a warm breeze filling the small space. “Afternoon...” Roger smirks, strutting in, glancing over at Brian and your close proximity.  “I see you’ve been warming the seat for me, why thank you Y/N.” Brian rolls his eyes at the leering tone in the drummers voice, and you simply shake your head, pressing your lips against Brian’s when he leans down to meet yours.

Freddie bursts through the door next, the door nearly hitting poor Deaky in the face, as he lets it swing shut behind him. “Shit! Deaky I’m sorry, I thought you were further behind me than that!” Freddie yelps, as Deaky opens the door slowly, a dazed look across his face

“My life just flashed before my eyes…” He mumbles, blinking slowly. Roger howls in laughter at Deaky’s melodramatic response, Brian and you grinning from ear to ear.

Once Frddie has checked over John, making sure he hadn’t actually hurt his favourite bassist, you leap up from the stool, gently pushing Brian away from you in your haste. “Thank god, she moved!” Roger smirks, skipping over to the vacated seat, twirling his drumstick in his right hand once seated.

“Deaky help me! Brian is trying to use logic on me again!” You giggle, racing up to the young man, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Over the past month and a bit, not only had you grown exceptionally close with Brian, you had come to know the other band members quite well also, with Deaky well on his way to being one of your closest friends.

“Better be careful there Bri, looks like Deaky is about to run off with your woman.” Freddie grins, brushing his long, dark hair back behind his shoulder, and gliding past the two of you, as you hug.

Deaky chuckles, as you releases his arms from around you, while you do the same, still standing close to each other. “You’re right Fred, Deaky and I are going to run off and elope. Sorry Brian, Deaky has won my heart!”

“Typically people don’t warn others about when they are going to run off and elope, they just sort of, do it…” Brian shrugs, a smile paying across his lips, as he fishes his sixpence coin from his back pocket, holding it carefully between his ling fingers.

“See what I mean! He keeps using logic! I can’t take it any longer!” You cry dramatically, fanning your hand in front of your eyes as if pretending to fight off tears.

“You know, he is right…” Deaky half smirks, and your eyes grow wide in their sockets.

“Are you on his side now? I can’t have both of you using logic against me, that’s just not fair!” You cry, stepping away from Deaky, pressing your back up against the door, in an excellent imitation of a frightened cat.

“If you want someone illogical, Roger may be your best bet.” Brian grins, ducking out of the way of Roger’s expertly aimed drumstick. The wooden stick barely missing Brian’s wild mane of curls as it flies through the air, before landing neatly by your feet.

“I am not illogical! And I don’t want to date Y/N!” Roger grumbles, scowling at the tall guitarist to his left, bitter at his missed shot at his head.

You glare at Roger, before crouching down and picking up the lonely drumstick. “This is mine now.” You declare triumphantly, as you slip it into your front pocket. If Roger didn’t want to date you, then there was no chance in hell he would grab for the drumstick with where it was now. “What do you mean you won’t date me Rog? I’m a catch!” You laugh, sticking your tongue out at the grumbling blonde.

“Wouldn’t Bree complain if you and I started dating? Wouldn’t Brian?” He countered, looking down sadly at his lonely drumstick.

“I doubt Bree would care, and Brian is the one who suggested it!”

“Alright fine, how about I date you, and Brian can date Bree?”

“But that leaves Freddie and Deaky left out! Let’s just swap entirely! Roger, you and I are together. Brian you get Bree, Deaky you and Mary are a couple now, and Freddie you get Veronica!” You can’t help but laugh at the shocked expression on everyone bar Roger’s face. None of the men seem to know how to respond to what you had just decided upon. “Come on lads, it won’t be that bad! Think of all the cute quadruple dates we could go on!”

“I’m suddenly really regretting starting this who conversation.” Brian shudders, lifting an eyebrow at where you had stored Roger’s drumstick.

“Besides, Mary has already told me that if she and I weren’t dating, then she would be all over Brian again. She once said something about missing his freakish tallishness. Though at the time she was attempting to reach something in the top shelf of the pantry.” Freddie chimes in.

“To be fair, I too miss Brian’s freakish tallishness when he isn’t around, and I don’t feel like climbing on a stool to reach what I want.” Deaky smirks, as he makes his way over to where he had left his bass, clicking open the latches on the case.

“Hey, Brian..” Roger half whispers, half shouts, causing the taller man to turn on his heel, heading towards his friend. Roger beckons him closer with a few frantic hand gestures, and Brian leans down, so Roger can whisper in his ear. You watch the two exchange their whispered conversation, eye narrowing into slits as the two occasionally peer over their shoulders to look at you. You’re not sure whether to be nervous or annoyed at the secrecy.

“Thanks Rog, I’ll keep that in mind.” Brian smiles, as he steps away from him, before heading over to you, both hands nestled in front pockets, causing his shoulders to hunch as he walks.

 Roger busies himself with ensuring his drum kit is still perfectly set up, while Freddie and Deaky discuss what their new set list should be for their first gig as a new band. “May I help you, May?” You smirk, looking up at Brian as he leans his shoulder against the wall beside you, entwining his fingers between yours.

“Just wanted to finish what we started, before we were so rudely interrupted.” He breaths out, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. You smile against the kiss, pressing your body closer to his, as he wraps his arms around you waist, yours falling over his shoulders. You allow your eyes to flutter shut, the warm, safe feeling that came from being in Brian’s embrace, wrapping around you like a woollen blanket. That feeling however, came crashing down around you, when you felt Brian’s hand move from where it had been resting on your left hip. Before you have time to process what he’s doing, his fingers have slipped into your left pocket, wrapped around the stolen drumstick, and pulled it free.

You pull away from his lips, playfully glaring up at him, Brian had just accomplished the ultimate betrayal. “Sorry luv, we can’t have a drummer with only one drumstick.” He teases, brushing his lips across yours one last time.

“How about we get him a set of bongos’ instead? That way he won’t need drumsticks at all!” You suggest, grinning wickedly at the idea. You wonder what would happen if Roger were to walk into the rehearsal room one day, and find his drums gone, and bongos’ in their place. You would have to talk to Freddie about orchestrating that little idea.

Brian throws the drumstick towards Roger, the wooden piece being aimed with far less precision than Roger had initially thrown it with/ “Thanks mate, you’re the best!” Brian waves him off, before giving your hand one final squeeze, as Freddie clears his throat.

“Deaky and I have come up with a basic outline for our new set list, let’s see how far we can get through it this afternoon…” Freddie begins, before Brian raises his hand, something all the band had begun doing when they wanted to speak. It caused less arguments, and made it so everyone could actually hear what was going on. Freddie doesn’t allow for Brian to speak this time however. “Yes, Brian dear, I know that you and Y/N will be leaving at five o’clock. Don’t worry, we haven’t created a four hour set list.” Brian lowers his hand, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laugh softly, before heading towards the old sofa pushed against the far wall, there was a knitted blanket draped over the back, which you had discovered was mostly there to conceal the rather large tear that had formed in the fabric. Beside the sofa was a bar fridge, which played host to what beer had been on sale recently, and a couple of bottles of water. From what Brian had told you, he couldn’t quite recall how long the water had been I there. Knowing you would be here for a while, you make yourself comfortable on the sofa, laying on your side with your head propped up on your hand, watching the four men take their positions. “We’re starting with Keep yourself alive. Y/N, tell us what you think won’t you dear?” Freddie grins, as Roger counts the band in, music filling the small practise room in a crescendo.

The music seeps into your very being, and you can’t keep the smile off your face, this must have been the song Brian had been raving about these last few weeks. He refused to give you any details, other than it was a brand-new song, and he thought it sounded incredible! He was right! “Keep you satisfied…” Freddie sings quietly, as Brian and Deaky play the last few chords to the song, Roger twirling his drumstick once, just for show.

“Holy shit…” You whisper, staring wide eyed at the band before you. Four sets of eyes stare back at you, all unblinking, as if daring you to speak first. “You guys, that was incredible! Do you have any idea how far you guys are going to go? You will make it big with this type of music, everyone will know the name Queen!”

Freddie laughs gleefully giving Deaky a sturdy hi-five, as Roger throws one stick in the air, his bright blue eyes sparkling a the knowledge of people loving their song. Brian steps over to you, reaching his hand out to you, your own hand moving to clasp his, allowing him to help you to stand. “You really liked the song?”

“Of course I did, it was amazing. I never knew you could compose like that, you’ve been keeping secrets from me.” You tease, swinging your hands gently back and forth, between the two of you, your fingers locked tightly together. “Queen will be big, no, bigger than big! You guys are going to be stars! And you, Brian May, will shine the brightest.”

Read Chapter Four

Reread Chapters One Two

My Masterlist

[gotboredwrote]

Mini-Us // JFM

Pairing: Joseph Mazzello x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.3K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff, swearing Summary: Y/N and Joe are ready for the “Bohemian Rhapsody” premiere in every way but one – Y/N has no idea what to wear to such an important event in Joe’s life, and Joe has no idea until the morning of. Thankfully, John and Veronica (Tetzlaff) Deacon are there to rescue the situation. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: In case this isn’t obvious, these stories are completely fiction, so please, PLEASE take it with a grain of salt that I am saying Deaky was involved with the “Bohemian Rhapsody” shoot. For the sake of this little blurb, I would like to imagine our dude and his wife-dude were involved, at least at the premiere. It should also go without saying that we as Queen/Deaky fans completely respect his choice to stay in retirement and remain a legend. Also, me posting two days in a row is not going to become normal so haha sorry enjoy anyway!

Masterlist

~

All the nerves buzzing around the room were infectious and electric – everyone’s adrenaline was sky-high knowing that the world would soon be able to appreciate all the hard work the boys, the producers, the crew, and Queen themselves put in to make this project a reality. The amount of detail and fist-pump-worthy music that was crammed into the two-hour film was enough to keep even a child with the world-record for the shortest attention span focused and entertained. It was a crowning-achievement for all involved, and no one could change their minds on that, including critics. Everyone had gathered in the lobby of the hotel the morning of the premiere to have the events of the day spelled out to them, that way things went as smoothly as possible. Everyone was with their plus-one’s, talking excitedly about the night’s events. Small talk being made here and there by crew and cast members who did not really know each other well, but enthusiastic nonetheless. At one point, Lucy made her way over to you and started excitedly babbling about her gown for the evening, and you smiled and complemented her choices whenever she took a breather and you had a moment to respond. Once she finished talking, she asked you to do what she just did – and all you could respond with was an averted gaze and flushed cheeks. At first, Lucy initially took that to mean that you were wearing something scandalous and that would make Joe react the same way you just did, with a little less aversion and a little bit more gawking. However, the polar opposite was true. When you spoke your truth, she entered full on crisis-mode, which made everyone spin around to listen in to your conversation.

~

“What do you mean, you FORGOT?” She was not screaming at you because she was mad at you, she just genuinely could not comprehend the fact that you forgot an outfit to wear to the premiere.

“H-honestly, I really don’t know. I was packing stuff for myself and Joey and I even had a list, but I guess that never made it on the list. This is so unlike me! I mean, I even picked out a special pantsuit with dinosaurs all over it for the Jurassic World premiere, and Joey wasn’t even in that! Ugh, you can’t even understand how frustrated I am with myself right now!”

It was at this point that the whole aggregation of people who were in the lobby, including those that had nothing to do with the premiere, turned to look at the two jabbering ladies. The main cast and crew noticed there was some tension in the way words were said and the way bodies were standing, so they made their way over. Joe, breaking the silence from the peanut gallery, said “Everything alright, girls?”

“Yeah, Joey, we’re just-”

“NO! Things are NOT fine, Y/N, don’t lie to him!”

At this point everyone was looking at you guys like you were speaking a foreign language because you both were exclaiming something is wrong, but would not elaborate on what said thing was. Eventually the glare Lucy kept giving you, along with purely concerned faces from Joe, Rami, Ben, Gwil, Allen, Brian, Roger, John, and their wives, forced you to break your silence and explain just what was going on. “Well, you see, in-in my haste to get here in time for the premiere with everything Joe and I needed for the weekend, it somehow slipped my mind to pack a gown, or any kind of professional outfit for that matter, for-for the premiere tonight. I did bring some stilettos, but unless leggings and a cropped tee shirt are acceptable, I’m kind of shit out of luck. Y-yeah…” To your surprise, Lucy was the only one who was not calm. The boys of the cast and the band seemed pretty neutral about the whole thing, and the plus-one’s among the bunch did not seem to take any real interest in your problem at all. The only one who actually seemed to want to help you in some way was Veronica Deacon, the wife of the man Joey portrayed. She listened carefully to your explanation, sauntered over to John, and asked him a question with some seriously convincing puppy-dog eyes. John’s reaction was simply a smile that brought out the crinkles by the corners of his eyes, which preceded a small squeal from Veronica who then made her way over to you. At this point you were sitting with Joe, Lucy leaving a few minutes prior to latch onto Rami’s arm, on one of the lobby couches going over the options you had about squeezing in a shopping trip in between the other stuff you needed to get done today. You both her the clicking of her small, dark green heels, and looked up.

“Hi, darling. I couldn’t help but overhear what you were talking, er, rather enthusiastically discussing with Lucy. Have you figured out a solution yet?”

You sigh, eliciting an upper-arm rub from Joe. “No, I haven’t, and honestly I don’t know how I’m gonna fix this. I’m not a forgetful person, if anything, I over-prepare for everything. And I am not missing this premiere.”

“And you aren’t going to miss it, dear. I just spoke with my John and I think I have a solution for you. And I promise, I will not be offended if you decline.”

“I truly have no reason to decline, Mrs. Deacon, not after everything you and John have done for Joey and myself these past months. Whatever you want to suggest, I am all ears.”

“Alright, but there is one condition – Joseph; I would need you to stay here and be okay with letting Y/N ride with me to the premiere, and I’ll send John with you.”

Joe simply looked at you adoringly, yet with a tinge of melancholy, gave you a small peck on the lips and said “She’s all yours as long as I get to walk the red carpet with my best gal.”

~

The beginning of the day went off without a hitch on everyone’s end. Each pair or group of people ran their errands, stopped for bites to eat, and made their way back to the hotel around 2:30pm to get ready for the premiere. Veronica was sat patiently in the lobby, chatting with John about various things, such as their children and something to do with money, and waited to see you and Joe pop back through the front doors of the hotel. Within seconds of your figures gracing through the doorway, Veronica grabbed John and explained the circumstances of what was about to happen, and then quickly ushered you back up to their room, John and Joe falling behind but eventually catching up with you. Once in front of the Deacon’s door, Veronica ran inside, grabbed everything John needed, and practically threw it out in the hallway. Joe’s face was the definition of deer-in-the-headlights, which got even worse when John simply started walking away asking Joe to take him to yours and Joe’s room. Veronica ushered you inside her room before you could ask any questions, dragged you over to the large bed her and John were sharing, pushed you to sit down and grabbed your wrists excitedly.

“So! My plan!”

“Honestly, Mrs. Deacon, you were starting to scare me a little bit. I think Joe is also pretty mortified right now,” ending your sentence with a lighthearted laugh.

“I sincerely hope you know that wasn’t or isn’t my intention, sweetheart. I just got so excited when John agreed to my idea for you that it kept bubbling up like a fizzy drink! Oh, also sweetie, please call me Ronnie. There is no need for formalities at this point.”

You continued to sit in front of Veronica, genuinely confused as to what was currently going on, but enjoying every second spent with her. You could see why John considered her his best friend.

“Since you’ve been on set quite a bit, I am sure you were aware that anything the boys had that fit the ones portraying them were loaned over for the duration of the film, so at least some of the costumes were accurate, right?” You nodded, but not following where she was going with this train of thought.

“Well, when the writers addressed that bit to them, they also turned to the wives and said that there would be a couple girls for two or three scenes that would be portraying us! Imagine that! So, they asked us if we could do the same! You know, bring some of the clothes we wore back in the late seventies, early eighties to see if they would fit those girls!”

You continued to nod, starting to get an inkling of an idea of where she was headed with her words.

“I actually still have those clothes with me! I didn’t keep a lot of them, my body changing after having six kids, as you can imagine. Which I am not complaining about! My children are my greatest accomplishment! But it’s common knowledge that the body changes with age and extreme conditions, and I would say bearing children is one of said conditions, wouldn’t you agree? Any who, I am going on a severe tangent, dear. My point is that you are a similar size to what I was back in those days, and I cannot help but wonder if something that I have would be worthy of trying on! I know that some of the patterns are a bit, how would you say, dated? But I have a couple things that are solid that just might do the trick. Would you like to see for yourself?

By the time she was finished explaining her idea, there were tears of gratitude spilling out of your eyes that you simply could not control. Now it was Veronica’s turn to be scared of you because she genuinely thought she said something that made you this upset. All you could do before words would form was grab her hands and hold them to your chest so she could feel the rapid beating of your heart. Eventually, the words you wanted to say braved the world, and you were able to choke out a thank you.

“I ser-seriously don’t think you *hic* understand h-how much this means to me, Mrs.- Mrs. Deacon. Ronnie. Wh-whatever. I was already eternally in your debt f-for everything else, but now it’s e-eternity plus one.”

The laugh of relief that escaped her throat at your words was enough to make you laugh just as hard, and at that point the plan had gone into full effect. Her room became a walk-in closet itself, and all that was left to do was find something that fit, text John to bring your heels up so Joe would not see you in advance. You glanced down at your hands, which had been trembling slightly ever since Veronica let them go, and immediately calmed down at the sight of your perfect-for-you engagement ring. This plan of Veronica’s was actually really good preparation for the wedding that would be in one year’s time.

~

It was 4:30, and it was time for everyone to get in their respective cars to head over to the premiere. Joe and John were forced to head out before Y/N and Veronica so they would not see you in advance of stepping onto the carpet, which worked smoothly. Eventually the cars all made their way to the venue, and everyone had made it to the premiere except for you, Veronica, Lucy, and Rami. John noticed your car pull up in front of the start of the carpet and tugged Joe’s sleeve to get his attention focused on the most important thing. The car came to a gentle stop, the driver hopped out, came around, and opened your door. Joe held his breath because he had no idea what was happening, and he was honestly slightly worried that something was wrong. But all that worry went away when he saw you stiletto-clad foot plant onto the carpet, a stark black against a bright red carpet. He was able to take in each element of your presence slowly and meticulously as you stepped out of the car, seemingly in slow motion. First, he noticed your shoes, which he had seen before, but for some reason looked different with all the anticipation. They were three-inch stilettos that had crisscrossed laces from the start of your toes, up the top of your foot, coming to a stop as a thicker band at the start of your ankle. The bottom of the shoe was no more than half an inch thick, which made him wonder just how the hell you walked in those without falling flat on your face. Then he noticed the finite amount of jewelry you were wearing. Nothing overly fancy, just the emerald-leaf promise ring on your right-ring finger, your engagement ring on your left-ring finger, and the gold-diamond tennis bracelet that hung semi-loosely on your left wrist he had bought you for your anniversary gift to go with the engagement. No other jewelry, and he could not help but think that it was just the right amount for you, considering you did not consider yourself a flashy person. Before he looked at your dress, his eyes made their way to your head, where he noticed your signature lack of makeup – again, not a flashy person, and your hairdo. A simple far-reaching side part, with the lesser volume side tucked behind your ear, and the more voluminous side bouncing gently with each step you took, your natural Y/H/C shining in the afternoon sun. Finally, he looked at the dress you were wearing, finally realizing what Veronica’s plan was all along. By today’s standards, the dress was not “in,” but boy, did you make it work. It was a full-length, thin, flowy light-blue denim dress that stopped right at the top of your feet, which he had to admit he had never seen before. There were no slits on either side, which was different from the normal gowns you wore to events. The dress hugged your curves just to the point where you could tell where Veronica was smaller than you, but not by much. Hip accentuated somewhat, but nothing provocative, the same happening at your waist, and the top laying just right on you. The dress was completely off the shoulder, top of the dress coming all the way down to the halfway point of your upper arms, hugging you just enough to stay in place but not be squeezing your arm enough to leave pesky lines. The simple denim was accentuated by a snow-white border of lace across the top all the way around, with the same pattern around the entire bottom of the skirt, as well as complimenting the ends of the flowy sleeves that went right past your elbows. It was… simply stunning. Gracefully you made you way over to Joe, who had not said anything to anyone since your car arrived, including you. You knew it should not have made you concerned, but it did. Especially considering you were now on your own, as Veronica had sauntered to John, peppering him with kisses after not having seen him all day and asking him if she did a good job. He seemed to think so, as he was staring at you both with a look that Veronica could not pin point. Once you were planted in front of Joe, nervously awaiting his response, you started to panic, thinking he thought you looked terrible. In an effort to get him to say SOMETHING, you spun around on your heels, prompting the skirt of Veronica’s dress to spin lightly in their air, revealing your bare legs underneath. After Joe had still not said a word and was still gawking at you, you finally broke your silence with a question.

“Are you not happy with how I look? I actually thought this dress was beautiful and was so excited that it fit and matched the heels. I’m really sorry you don’t like it, Joey. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“…are you actually being serious with what you just said?”

“I mean, you aren’t saying anything, so I thought maybe you-you hated this…”

“Y/N, I truly do not think I have ever seen you wear a dress that matched you as well as it does and looked as miraculously stunning as it does. I mean, you always look good in everything that you wear, and you know that I prefer you when you’re as comfortable as you want to be. But, like, I-I’m honestly stunned. You look absolutely ravishing, babe, I- wow. I feel like I’m drooling, am I drooling?”

Joe always knew how to make you a giggling mess, but you appreciated his comments nonetheless. You gave him a swift and passionate kiss that ended with you both grinning ear to ear on each other’s lips. You then wrapped your arms loosely around his waist, and his around yours, his head resting on yours, peppering kisses to your hair while you turned and mouthed a “thank you, Ronnie” in hers and John’s general direction. They both simply smiled and you could not help but notice that Veronica has some of the same eye crinkles that John has, and it made your heart flutter. Joe eventually pulled you away to hold your hand and escort you over to the carpet where the rest of the main cast was about to make their grand entrance, and Joe did not want you to leave his side the whole walk. The members of Queen and their wives followed suit behind them. Throughout the walk on the carpet, you kept your mind occupied with thoughts about Veronica and John’s relationship. It fascinated you. Despite everything they went through in their personal lives dealing with the grandiosity of Queen, they still managed to have a simple, loving, domestic life that was still as passionate, full of care, and days where they still seem to be wearing honeymoon-tinted glasses. Their relationship started in a slightly similar manner, wherein John was in the middle of the start of a long-fledged career that was going to bring temptations. But no matter what, he remained faithful to his best friend. You glanced down at the ring on your left hand again, then looking at Joe with doe-eyes, who, despite being preoccupied with about one hundred cameras pointed his way, still managed to glance your way. He gave you a sweet smile that basically confirmed the question that was swimming around your mind in the back of the Deacon thoughts: will Joe and I be like them? And with that simple look, you knew that the answer was a solid yes. Meanwhile, a little further behind you and the cast, Veronica and John were actually having a conversation similar to what was going on in your head.

“Ronnie, honey. I can’t help but notice something about Joe and his fiancé.”

“What’s that deary?”

“With Y/N wearing your dress, and Joe in that particular suit, I can’t help but realize that they are ironically similar to us, both in their actual personalities and their looks. Like from back in the day. I have to make it a point to ask Joe that I would be honored if their first dance as a married couple was to ‘You’re My Best Friend.’ They embody that song more than any couple I have ever met, and I mean, it just seems appropriate, y’know?”

“I couldn’t agree more, Johnny.”

[6rookie-writer0110]

melissa hasting x male reader and Spencer Hastings x male reader.

Melissa and y/n have been together for a while (2-3 years), Spencer being in love with y/n, and they start to have little glances, kisses, hugs, touching until one night reader sees Spencer in her bikini.

‘I cant be with melissa anymore I want you’

‘I want you too’

poolsex and s following pregnancy.

Veronica Hasting standing beside him ‘she Can never know about our hookup’

flashback to reader pounding her in the bathroom of a bar or in her Office when he was her intern.

‘agreed’

That's crazy 😳

[lorirwritesfanfic]

WIP Folder Tag

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @missameliep 😊❤️

My WIP folder is a complete mess because I factory reset my phone twice lately (don’t even get me started on that 😓) and I think I lost the outlines of my THM and PM series.  I’m using this to reorganize everything, so please bear with me, my very long list and my obsession with organization and lists 😅

Series WIPs

Choices WIP Folders

America's Most Eligible: Who To Trust (Multiple Relationships)

Chapter 5: Adam

Epilogue: Trust No One

Bloodbound: Wanted (Multiple Relationships)

Chapter 13: Making It Right | Jax x Samantha

Chapter 14 | Adrian x Scarlett (F!OC), Samantha [n*fw]

Chapter 15 | Adrian x Scarlett (F!OC), Jax x Samantha [n*fw]

Chapter 16: The Little Sister | Jax x Samantha, Natalia Holden (HSS F!MC), Lily Spencer

Chapter 17: Vampires Don't Exist | Michael Harrison x Natalia (HSS F!MC), Jax x Samantha

Desire & Decorum: Meant To Be (Multiple Relationships)

Chapter 21: Minefields And Battle Scars - Part 2 | Hamid x Daphne, Dominique Foredale, Felicity Holloway, Theresa Sutton

Chapter 22: Losses | Alisha Hastings (F!OC), Ernest Sinclaire

Chapter 23: Just Say It | Hamid x Daphne, Annabelle x Veronica [n*fw]

Chapter 24: Like Paris In The Rain | Hamid x Daphne

Ride or Die: On The Road | Logan x Carla

Chapter 13: Business As Usual [adult content]

Chapter 14: Just Another Day [adult content]

The Royal Romance: For The World To Know | Liam x Jade

Chapter 13: Decisions [adult content]

Chapter 14: No Matter What (Hana & Jade friendship fic)

Chapter 15: The Bachelorette

Chapter 16: His Fling [n*fw]

Chapter 17: Aftereffects [n*fw]

Chapter 19:The Wedding [adult content]

(no, I didn’t skip a chapter. Chapter 18 is already posted)

The Royal Romance: The Five Stages (multiple relationships)

Acceptance - part 1 / Her Fling | Drake x Jade [n*fw]

Acceptance - part 2 | Drake x ?

The Royal Romance/Rules of Engagement: The Rebel (multiple relationships)

Chapter 14: The Line Begins To Blur | Leo x Hana, Madeleine [n*fw]

Chapter 15: The Queen’s Approval | Leo x Hana, Jade Bourbon (TRR MC)

Chapter 16: A Little Competition | Leo x Hana, Drake x Hana [n*fw]

Chapter 17: Breathless | Leo x Hana [n*fw]

Love Island The Game WIP Folder

Season one: Unforgettable Summer (multiple relationships)

Chapter 3: Crossroads | Levi x Jen, Levi x Jane

Chapter 4: Too Good To Be True | Levi x Jane [n*fw]

Chapter 5: Betrayals - Part 1 | Levi x Jane, Levi x Cherry

Chapter 5: Betrayals - Part 2 | Levi x Jane, Erikah

Chapter 6: Come Clean | Levi, Jen

Chapter 7: Talk | Jen, Jane

Chapter 8: Be Mine | Levi x Jane [n*fw]

Requests WIP folder

AU-gust Writing Challenge (2019)

A College Romance - Part 2 | Liam x Jade (College AU / Arranged Marriage AU)

A College Romance - Part 3 | Liam x Jade (College AU / Arranged Marriage AU)

A Promise - Part 2 | Hamid x Daphne (Childhood friends AU / Arranged Marriage AU)

A Promise - Part 3 | Hamid x Daphne (Childhood friends AU / Arranged Marriage AU)

The Protector | Leo Rys x Madeleine Amaranth (Superheroes AU) [adult content]

Unfortunate Circumstances - Part 2 | Hamid x Daphne (Single Parents AU) [adult content]

Untitled WIP | Annabelle Parsons x Veronica (Professional Rivals AU)

Ways To Solve A Conflict - Part 2 | Thomas Mendez x Ayla Day (Professional Rivals AU/Kinktober) [n*fw]

N*FW Sentences

Untitled WIP 1 | Colt Kaneko x MC

Untitled WIP 2 | Colt Kaneko x MC 

Untitled WIP | Jax Matsuo x Samantha 

Random headcanons that became WIPs

Kinktober inspired [n*fw-ish]

Cravings | Rafael Aveiro x Evelyn Bennington (F!MC)

Speechless (Follow up to The Letter) | Annabelle Parsons x Veronica Dantas (F!OC)

Silly Love Stories Inspired

Heartfelt Apologies | M!Raleigh Carrera x Tiffani Liang (MC) [n*fw]

Drunk In Love | Jax Matsuo x Samantha Holden (BB MC), Michael Harrison x Natalia Holden (HSS F!MC)

Other

Bridgerton/The Duke and I

What Happens At Night | Simon Basset x Daphne Bridgerton [n*fw]

Choices: Blades of Light and Shadow

Curious | Nia Ellarious, Mal Volari, Ixora (F!Orc!MC) [n*fw-ish]

Soft Side (Follow up to Toughen Up) | Nia Ellarious x Mal Volari

Choices: Open Heart

Untitled WIP (Follow up to Distant) | Rafael Aveiro x Evelyn Bennington (F!MC) [adult content]

Love Island The Game - Season Two

Like A Fool | Lucas Koh x Rosalie (MC)

The Wayhaven Chronicles

Trouble Sleeping | Nate Sewell x Stella Lovejoy (F!Detective)

Breakfast | Nate Sewell x Stella Lovejoy (F!Detective)

Art In Motion | Nate Sewell x Stella Lovejoy (F!Detective)

Original stories

Friendly Advices

Character sheets: Larissa (MC), Dylan, Chris (brother), Madison

Novel concept/outline

In Bloom

Character sheets: Brooke (MC), Mark, Eileen (sister), Paige (antagonist)

Novel concept/outline

Tagging: @lilyoffandoms @itslaniquelove @xxrainbow-princessxx @darley1101 and anyone else who feels like doing this