#I gotta thank her for that comment all the fear and anxiety I would have had over the way she treated me is massively negated by that-

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[caterpillarinacave]

Gotta give a shoutout to my 2nd grade teacher who looked me dead in the eye and said "you don't have a disability" with utmost confidence, permanently marking the end of me advocating for myself. I have been laughing at you for over a decade.

[frvnkcastles]

I was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has abandonment issues and she's scared that frank will one day just get bored of her and leave?

love your work 💙

’TIL THE EARTH STARTS TO CRUMBLE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re wired to always assume everyone will leave you. Frank is determined to change that.

Warnings: Abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the support anon! This was easy to write because this is something I also struggle with MAJORLY. I feel you, you’re not alone <3 It really sucks but the right people will stay and reassure you always!!

You didn’t want to be too clingy, you really didn’t. But when you’ve found someone like Frank, you’ve gotta cherish every moment with that person and make sure they won’t leave you, right? That was what you told yourself, anyway, not that you’d actually reveal what was going on inside your head to him directly. To you, it just seemed like opening up about your issues would only give him more reason to walk out on you, it would only push him away, and that was the last thing you wanted.

You had been this way for as long as you could remember. Desperate to be liked and loved, terribly scared of being left alone or rejected. It was all the same with people you dated and people you befriended, the constant checking that everything was alright and you were still doing good. You had learned the hard way it was too much for some people when your ex had done exactly what you had tried to stop him from doing — abandoning you.

So, you tried to tone it down. You tried to reason with yourself. Frank wasn’t going anywhere. He loved you and cared about you, and if anything, he had baggage, too. You appreciated him regardless, and you knew the feeling was mutual. It was just difficult to convey that message to your brain, the damn thing endlessly feeding you lies and doubt about the foundation of your relationship.

It was just a matter of time. It had to be. Just like everyone else, he’d leave you.

You managed to suffer in silence and cry about your fears in private for a while, but in a sick twist of fate, Frank began pulling away. He thoroughly explained to you his latest mission, told you everything he was going to have to do and how he wanted to keep you safe from his enemies. But it was in one ear and out the other. You smiled and nodded, promised you understood, but it didn’t take you long to start freaking out. This was how it started, the drifting apart, the building distance between you until he’d have to cut his losses and cut you off.

He left at night, which meant that most days you got to enjoy his company, only for your time together to be shadowed by the impending anxiety. And the nights you spent alone, your pillow wet with tears as you wondered when he’d stop returning home. When you woke up in his arms in the morning, you felt comforted and reassured and you swore to yourself you wouldn’t repeat the cycle that night, only to end up breaking your own promise.

A week passed with you slowly stopping eating and sleeping, an unhealthy habit that you were able to hide with Frank being gone. But he wasn’t stupid, and eventually, he picked up on it.

”Make sure you eat somethin’ tonight, aight? That sandwich I made ya was still in the fridge”, Frank commented while packing his bag for the night, shuffling around your apartment whereas you were seated on the couch, watching him bounce from one room to the next.

”I’ll try”, you spoke faintly, a yawn interrupting you, and stopping in his tracks, Frank looked over to you and frowned with his whole face.

”You didn’t sleep much last night, either”, he pointed out, hoping that his observation would be enough for you to open up, but you only gave him a half-hearted shrug in response.

”It’s fine”, you whispered, dropping your stare from Frank’s piercing eyes to your hands as you picked on your nails. You felt like you could throw up any second now, and the walls were closing down on you, inviting panic and terror into your soul. This was your least favorite part of the day and it didn’t seem to get any easier with time, but asking Frank to stay seemed so selfish and obsessive.

Figuring that it wouldn’t do any good to push, Frank nodded and finished packing his duffel bag. Once he was finished, he walked over to you for your nightly kiss on the top of your head, his routine of saying good night and goodbye to you.

But tonight, you just couldn’t help but act on your instincs. As he leaned down to kiss you, you closed your eyes and wrapped a fist around the front of his shirt to hold him close and not let him pull away. When he tried, he was stopped by your vice-like grip, and confused, he looked down at you only to find sheer fear twisted on your face.

”Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” he asked with concern, crouching down in front of you, his head tilted so he could catch your eyes. ”Talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here”, he reassured you while lifting his hand to caress your cheek, his thumb catching the stray tear that rolled down from the corner of your eye.

”I don’t want you to go. I’m so scared you won’t come back. I know, I know it’s just a matter of time before you get sick of me or bored of me and leave for good. I’m not good enough for you, I’m not interesting enough, I’m not pretty enough—”, you babbled, all the emotions you had been bottling up inside finally bursting out of you.

”Baby, baby, where’s all this comin’ from? I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Hey, look at me”, he was genuinely surprised, but his voice was firm as he took a hold of your jaw and lifted it so that your eyes could meet. Shakily, you opened your eyes, embarrassed to face him but there was not even a hint of judgment or annoyance in the brown depth of his gaze. ”You’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re more than good for me, you’re far more than my miserable ass deserves. And whaddya mean you ain’t interesting? You keep me on my toes all the time. Don’t even get me started on the pretty part, you know I fuckin’ adore you, head to toe”, he raved on, passion behind every word, and you so badly wanted to believe him.

Sniffling, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. ”I thought that admitting I was scared you’d leave me would just push you away. Or worse, you’d stay with me out of pity”, you admitted quietly, averting your gaze in shame, but Frank was having none of it, and quickly turned your head back to him.

”Oh, sweetheart”, he sighed, pulling you into his embrace, tightly folding his strong arms around you. ”I’m stayin’ with you because I love you. You’re everythin’ to me and I couldn’t do this without you. I’m not tryna belittle your feelings and fears, but I promise, it ain’t gonna come true. I’m stickin’ with you for as long as you’ll have me, I swear on my life, sweet girl”, he vowed while holding you against his chest.

”Do you mean that?” you asked with a wavering voice, ”everyone always leaves me.” Your words broke Frank’s heart, and he wished he could have made you see yourself through his eyes, wished you could have read his mind so that you’d know exactly how he felt about you. He considered himself the luckiest bastard in the world for being able to share a space with you, to kiss you and hold you, and he wasn’t going to walk away from that no matter what.

”Not me. You’ll see. I’m here to stay”, he insisted, pulling back just so he could cradle your head in his large hands and shower your face with quick but sweet kisses, from your forehead to the corner of your eye and from your nose to your jawline.

”Good, ’cause I really love you and it would break me”, you chuckled sadly, unable to fight a smile as Frank peppered your skin with kisses.

”I’m real sorry people haven’t ’preciated you before. But I’mma make sure that head of yours quiets down for a second, yeah? I ain’t gonna let you down”, he confirmed with dedication, and as he gave you a solemn look that was far from joking, you gave in and nodded.

You wanted to believe him, but you both knew it was easier said than done. But Frank wasn’t going to give up — he was going to show you again and again that he was serious about you, that he really was in love with you, and maybe, some day, you would accept that as the simple truth.

[magici-if]

How do the ROs act around an MC who's just really shy romantically during the pining stage 😔😔?

(I can imagine that sort of MC trying to pursue Evander and then failing miserably because no courting experience)

damn u got evander spot on :( poor MC would just be pining after him and he wouldn't even notice 💔

heres everyones reaction (assuming the ROs also like MC) !

Martin would initially be glad MC is shy, 'cause it'd be easier for him to pretend he isn't totally into MC. With a flirty MC he'd have no chance at hiding it, he'd be trying so hard all the time to grunt or not smile at MC's comments, that he'd start avoiding them. But with shy MC, he can't even pretend to be annoyed at them, he'd just become even shyer in return. Martin and MC would just bounce off each other's awkwardness and their conversations would be reduced to a mess of "What-" "Uh-", usually ended by Martin grunting "Uhh gotta go."

Demetra always makes fun of Evander for being oblivious in love but she's the same really, specifically only when she's involved. As in, even Evander would probably be able to tell she likes MC, but she couldn't. So, with a shy MC, she'd be very endeared and either tease them to see their reactions, or do things for them to see them smile for her or get flustered. She'd just start doing anything to get reactions out of shy MC, her favourites would be whispered thank yous, awkward attempts at making conversation and smiles. She usually automatically flirts with people she's attracted to, so with shy MC it would be that except multiplied a 1000 times 'cause, according to her,

"I just think it's funny to see their reactions."

but in reality she'd get mushy all over and couldn't help but grin when she'd set her eyes on MC, though quick at hiding it.

Evander wouldn't notice MC likes them, like at all. He'd immediately think MC hates him LMAO; and that they're different around him because of that. They'd still have a soft spot for MC, but be totally clueless that it's 'cause they like MC. Evander would still like MC but no one, and I mean no one, would know, (yes not even him). Evander and Demetra get actually very close during the story, so she'd probably notice and sit down to have a conversation with Van about his feelings.

"You do realise that's literally what liking someone is like, right?"

"Oh."

And only there and then would Evander notice. Dem would also be the one to tell him about MC's feelings, 'cause those two poor souls would never end up together otherwise.

Harley would notice MC is shyer around her and first of all be completely smitten 'cause that means maybe MC likes her back after all? Then she'd just do anything in her power to get them to feel more comfortable around her. In general she'd assume MC's shyness around hers stems from not a lot of experience or low confidence on their part, so she'd try to affirm MC often. She would also subconsciously be a little quieter around MC in fear of annoying (scaring) them by being too loud or straightforward. She'd also just blush a lot around them.

Echo would definitely be happy MC is shy, she'd be emboldened and endeared by MC's personality around her. She'd try to be a little more talkative around MC and take on the responsibility of taking the first step, trying to get MC little presents such as flowers or new pens/notebooks for the Academy. She'd also just be so happy to see MC get awkward or blush around her, 'cause it's always been the other way around for her, so she'd take it as a little win. She'd also find the courage to ask Harley for tips 'cause according to Echo, anxiety fears her and she's the queen of talking to people.

Dominic would be slightly relieved MC isn't very straightforward because of the interesting nature of their relationship. It would be a lil hard for him to improve his relationship with MC because deep down he thinks their relationship won't and can't go anywhere; so a shy MC will have a harder time with that opposed to an MC who'll just follow him everywhere and constantly flirt. At the same time he'd want to spend time with MC but he'd have a hard time trying to keep their relationship hidden and/or appropriate to their roles in the show. He'd do something he shouldn't be doing, like touch MC's hand, and then he'd berate himself for it and promise himself he won't don't it again, just to soon fall in the same trap.

[hailthegodsong]

OUR LOVE IS BORN

Masterlist

Chapter 10 ~ Secrets

Content Warnings: kissing, self doubt, manipulation/ reader being gullible, comments on eating behaviours, insecurity, bullying, slight nudity, descriptions/ mentions of car accident, drunk driving and injury, cougar (the animal not woman lol), near animal attack, fear, chronic pain, mentions of fear of driving, pining.

Josh greeted me at my front door the next morning with a small daisy in hand, and a bright smile stretched across his face.

"Goodmorninggg," I said gently as I tried to rid the layer of sleep still clouding my mind.

"Hi!" He shouted excitedly.

"Shhh, I think my dad's still asleep," I laughed, admiring his early morning perky attitude. "And thank you," I said, taking the flower from his fingers.

I could see the car's engine vibrating in front of my house as we wandered down the front steps, and a bubble of anxiety brewed in my stomach.

"Sammy swung his head into one of our amps last night, so just a fair warning about his... face," Josh grimaced as he opened the passenger door for me.

I slipped into my seat, wildly concerned as I turned around to see Sammy sitting in the backseat, smiling sheepishly at me with a large, reddened and swelled mound on the side of his forehead.

"Oh my gosh Sammy, how on earth..." I trailed off.

He scratched the back of his head, "I don't even know. I was on the floor trying to find Jake's pick, and I kinda stood up while turning, and smack," he let out a loud, boyish laugh.

"You should'a heard the sound it made," Jake remarked, "Should'a heard the sound he made," he laughed.

"Shut up," Sam quipped, and Josh giggled from beside me.

I turned back around, not realising that we had even begun driving, and took a deep breath to distract myself from the cars speeding past either side of us.

"So Layla, I heard you had a little date last night," Sam teased, "Ya got a boyfriend now or something?"

I blushed, hard. Only now would I be using the sight of traffic ahead as a distraction.

"Mmm, no. No boyfriend," I awkwardly chuckled, while I nervously tucked a hair behind my ear.

"Oooooh Layla's got a crush," he cooed, and he began to make kissing noises from the backseat, only causing my cheeks to redden further.

"Leave her alone Sam, you're just mad you can't get any," Josh interrupted, quick to turn the nob on the volume up, blasting whatever Hendrix album they had playing a few notches higher.

Sam scoffed, "Fuck off Josh," earning everyone in the car a laugh, and me a reprieve from my nervous and embarrassed thoughts.

What was going to happen today if I ran into Adam? What would he say to me? Or would he ignore me?

"Oh and Layla, I was meaning to ask if you wanted to come over tonight to study for the maths exam tomorrow. I'm so fucking unprepared. Stressed out of my mind," Josh groaned.

I laughed, "Aw Joshy, don't worry, I can come over and teach you. I'm sure you're not as unprepared as you think."

"Oh I so am," he clarified.

"Okay well, I'll teach you whatever you need."

To my surprise, when I looked back out the window, we were already at school, as the lengthy conversation had kept me distracted enough to not even have the time to dwell on the fact we were in a moving car.

I thanked Josh for the lift and told him I'd see him in math, as I had health class with Jake first thing.

"I just gotta get my books from my locker, I'll only be a sec," I told Jake.

"All good, I'll come with."

I made my way quickly to my locker, only to see Adam standing right before it, brows furrowed and looking down at his phone.

My steps faltered slightly, but I didn't want to cause concern to Jake, so I kept moving, bracing myself for whatever was to come.

Adam looked up once I had made it to my locker, and locked eyes with me pleadingly.

"Layla," he said breathlessly, pulling a small bouquet of flowers out from behind his back.

"Wha-" I started, taking the flowers as they were shoved into my hands.

"I'm so sorry, Layla. I was... I shouldn't have- I've just... never been with a girl like you. But I really want to make this work. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it work with you," he rushed out.

I stood in shock, before slowly peeking behind me to see Jake standing awkwardly a foots distance away, and knowing that he'd heard everything made my cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When I looked back to Adam, he was staring at Jake with an irritated expression, eyebrows raised and jaw clenched.

"Um, I'll wait for you outside the door for class, Layla," he said hesitantly. I turned again to give him a nod and an apologetic smile.

Adam cleared his throat and I looked back at him.

"Forgive me?" He asked pleadingly.

"Of course I forgive you," I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck for a hug.

How could I not?

I felt him relax as he wrapped his own arms around my waist, before lifting me from the ground.

I squealed, clutching onto him tightly as he swayed on the spot. He gently placed me back on my feet and gave me a meaningful kiss.

Pulling away, his eyes searched mine earnestly, before he spoke. "Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked.

Shocked, my mouth hung agape for a moment in disbelief, until a gentle smile grew. The feeling was like no other, the feeling of being wanted.

"Yes," I giggled, my smile now toothy and bright.

He gave me a big kiss before we pulled away from each other.

Heat festered at my cheeks as I excitedly fiddled with my hands and rocked back and forth on my feet, "Alright well, I've gotta go to class before I'm late," I chuckled nervously.

"Okay, have lunch with me today?" He asked.

I thought of Josh, and how much fun I had eating lunch with everyone under the tree in the field. But I was Adam's girlfriend now. Not Josh's.

"Yeah alright! See you there," I exclaimed, planting a quick peck on his lips before I bounded off to class.

"Everything go okay?" Jake asked me as I approached the classroom door.

"Yep!" I chirped.

"What was he apologising about?" He asked, trailing behind me as I walked into class and found my seat.

"Oh nothing, we just had a misunderstanding yesterday," I dismissed.

"Misunderstanding about what?" He asked, handing me a textbook from the shelves beside us.

"Doesn't matter now," I said quickly. "How are you feeling for the health exam on Friday?" I redirected.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair and tipping it backward slightly, "Ahhh I don't really care if I fail."

"You don't wanna go to uni?" I asked curiously.

"Not really my thing. Wanna see where my guitar can get me first, and if it's a dead end then I'll start giving a real career a proper thought."

"Being a musician is a real career," I argued.

"You know what I mean though."

"Yeah, I do. I reckon you can do it though. You have some real talent, all of you do."

He smiled softly, and a small powder of pink dust his cheeks, "Thanks."

After health class, I made my way to maths, both giddy to see Josh, and nervous to tell him I wouldn't be having lunch with him at the same time.

I avoided the topic for the majority of class, but as I realised we only had five more minutes until lunch, I knew I couldn't hold it off any longer.

"Hey uh, I'm having lunch with Adam today, so I'll meet you at the car at the end of school, if that's okay?" I said, though it sounded more like a question that I was heavily unsure about.

"Oh, umm, yeah okay!" He said, though his mannerisms were anything but natural. "But um, you know who he sits with and stuff right?" He asked, a bit quieter.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know, like Oliver and stuff, all the others aren't too different from him," he warned, and I felt a deep weight of dread sink to my stomach.

I had forgotten about Oliver. But it was too late to back out now.

"Oh right, yeah it'll be okay," I said as convincingly as I could.

He smiled tight lipped, "Okay, but you know where to find me if you need me right? Or you can call me if anything..."

"Yes, Josh I get it. You don't have to worry, I'll be fine. Plus, Adam's my... boyfriend now. I can't exactly not sit with him during break," I cringed as the words left my mouth.

His eyebrows furrowed for no longer than a split second, though the look of surprise didn't leave.

"Oh! Wow, that's... cool. Um, I'm happy for you," he said excitedly, but for some reason, I could tell that excitement was the last thing he was feeling.

Probably because he hated Adam so much.

"You're, um, you're happy though right?" He asked me, and I thought for a moment. When I was with Adam, I was always still slightly nervous, but I felt happy and wanted. So yes, I was happy.

I smiled, "Yeah, I am."

And in an instant, his smile turned genuine, "Okay, good."

The bell went only a few moments later, and I bid Josh goodbye to go and navigate Adam in the busy school cafeteria.

"Layla! Over here!" I spun in the direction and saw Adam waving his hand over his head, standing from a table in the back corner.

I waved and began walking over, bubbles of nerves steaming in my gut. What if his friends didn't like me? What if they thought Adam was out of my league? What if they think he's settling? What if-

"Layla, these are my friends, friends, this is my girlfriend, Layla," Adam introduced, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me to the seat beside him on the table.

A few of the boys whooped and clapped boisterously, and I already regretted coming to sit with them. I noted how most of the girls stared at me but didn't say anything, and I felt wildly intimidated.

A few faces I recognised from the bonfire night, though I doubted any of them recognised me. Oliver though, was nowhere to be seen, and I let out a sigh of relief at the fact.

Adam began chatting to one of his friends across the table, as I pulled out my container of stir fry for lunch.

"Hey, I'm Harper," one of the girls in front of me introduced themselves. She had ashy-blonde hair and was one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen, eyes piercing blue and makeup perfectly done.

In fact, every girl on the table was outstandingly beautiful, and I felt a wave of insecurity wash over me. I looked nothing like any of these girls', and it was clear that I didn't fit in.

"I'm Layla, it's nice to meet you," I said, smiling.

"Yeah," she said plainly. "So how did you and Adam meet?" She asked. A few of the other girls around us had joined in on the conversation now, intently awaiting my response.

"Oh um, I was on a run and we bumped into each other, literally," I said with a laugh. "And then, yeah."

"Awww that's so cute," one of the other girls said.

"Wow that's a big container," Harper remarked as took the lid off my container to start eating. "You gonna be able to eat all that?" She asked with a laugh.

The jokey-comment made me frown. I thought this was a normal portion?

I noticed that all the other girls at the table had absolutely nothing in front of them, and became incredibly self-conscious.

"Hah, I guess you're right. I don't know why it's so- well, why I got such a big one."

What the fuck was I even saying? Why was I stuttering so hard, and why was I feeling so uncomfortable?

"Mmm, that smells good, mind if I have some?" Adam asked as he wrapped his arm over my shoulders.

"Yeah go ahead," I said, sliding the container over to Adam, my appetite now completely gone.

"Ayyyy," Adam cheered and I looked up to see Oliver approaching the table. I kept my head down, fishing into my bag for a bottle of water to aid my ever-drying mouth.

"Whas' going," Oliver greeted as they dapped each other up. Much to my dismay, Oliver took the seat right next to mine, leaving me sandwiched between him and Adam.

"Hey, Lilah, nice to see you again," he greeted, and I subtly shuffled closer to Adam's body, so that I was squished up against his side.

"Hi, but um, it's Layla," I said quietly.

He looked taken aback, "Well there's no need to be rude, is there?" He asked, looking down at me menacingly. What was this guys problem?

"Sorry," I said, keeping my head down in embarrassment.

I wanted to go home.

I sat in silence as the rest of the table talked in broken conversation, watching as my lunch was devoured by Adam, and wished to God that the end of lunch bell would ring any minute.

"What's this from?" Adam asked, and I followed his gaze to the daisy Josh had given me this morning, being twiddled between his fingertips.

Without thinking, I lied, "Oh I just picked it on the way to school."

He hummed, before refocusing his attention to my food, taking the last bite and pushing the empty container back to me.

"Thanks," he planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

"No worries!" I lied, watching him pull out his own lunch.

"So Layla, how are you liking America so far?" One of the girls with long, straight brown hair asked me.

"Yeah, it's really cool! Very different but I'm having a good time," I said generically, not thinking it would be appropriate to verbalise the true differences between America and Australia.

She smacked the gum in her mouth, "Different like how?"

"Mmm like culture and slang and stuff, you know?" I asked, genuinely unsure of how to answer the question. Wasn't it obvious that two countries on opposite sides of the world were going to be different?

"Mmmm no, I don't," she said, tilting her head to the side, and I furrowed my eyebrows at her attitude. "By the way, your hair is all curly and frizzy on this side," she said with a smile, as if she was looking out for me.

I blushed manically and used my hands to try and flatten the spot, moulding the loose curls back together.

"Hmmm, it's not going away, did you forget to straighten it today or something?" She asked.

"No, I don't straighten my hair, thanks though," I said, now finding it incredibly difficult to keep a smile on my face.

She paused chewing on her piece of gum and stared at me with her eyebrows raised. "Oh, that's... okay, you do you, girl," she said, judgement booming from her tone.

The other girls at the table giggled, and one of them even whispered to the other, while maintaining eye contact with me.

Unable to take it any longer, I flashed her a quick smile and turned to Adam, "Hey, the bells gonna go soon, and I need the bathroom, so I'm gonna go..."

"Okay, talk to you later," he said, giving me a quick kiss before I got up from my seat and threw my bag over my shoulder.

"It was nice meeting you all," I lied, mostly to the group of girls whom I had spoken to for most of the lunch.

The only response I got were dismissive glances and fake smiles.

Not even glancing towards Oliver or any of the other boys, I sped off through the cafeteria, taking a deep breath once I was alone in the school halls.

Once out of sight, my eyes burned, and a lump in my throat formed painfully, urging me to find the bathrooms quicker.

I clumsily stumbled inside, hoping to God that nobody was inside, and to my luck, the dingy stalls were all empty.

I let the sobs wrack through my body. I was so embarrassed. So humiliated. They were probably all talking about me in that moment. Talking about how much food I ate and how ugly my hair was and how fucking weird I was.

I let myself sulk in the empty bathroom for another five minutes before I checked my phone to see we had a few minutes until the bell.

Luckily I hadn't worn any makeup to school today, so I didn't need to worry about any dripping mascara as I messily wiped away the salty wetness from my cheeks.

I took a few deep breaths to regulate my breathing and anxiously tried to flatten the curls around the side of my face.

If only it were a bit straighter.

My stomach grumbled hungrily, and I huffed at the sight of my empty container in my bag.

The bell rang, and I fixed up my appearance a little more, splashing a bit of cold water over my eyes to help the redness fade, and once I was happy with my appearance, I filtered out of the bathroom.

"Hey, girl! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," Aanya greeted me as I walked into art class.

I sighed in relief, a real smile gracing my face as her genuine nature, "I know right, I feel like we've just been too busy with study for exams."

"Mmm so true. So what's-" she started, but paused as the teacher demanded everyones attention to explain our task for the day.

Once we were dismissed to draw our base sketches for the charcoal portrait's, Aanya continued.

"As I was saying," she laughed, "What's been going on in the life of Layla?"

"Well... remember that guy I was texting the other week? Adam?" I asked and she nodded eagerly. "Well, we're official now..." I said shyly.

"What?! Since when?" She exclaimed loudly.

"Shhh," I begged, looking around the other students, hoping they couldn't hear her. "He asked me this morning," I said, peeking down at my bag to see the multicoloured flowers peeking out past the zipper.

"Awww, did he get you flowers to ask?" She asked.

"Well, I'm not sure. He was also apologising for yesterday so I don't know if the flowers for that or for asking me," I pondered with a little awkward laugh.

"What was he apologising for?" She asked, and though I had arguably known Jake for longer, I felt far more comfortable telling Aanya about the events that unfolded at his house.

"Ugh it's so embarrassing," I said, and I noticed she had abandoned her sketch to listen to me with her full attention. "Basically," I began, while sketching the outline of my portrait's hairline, "He invited me over to watch a movie- this is yesterday after school by the way," I clarified and she nodded.

"So he drove me to his and showed me around the house, and we went to the living room to watch a movie. I put on The Breakfast Club-"

"I love that movie," she commented, making me laugh.

"Me too! Anyways, he was under the impression that... I wasn't there to just watch a movie. So he started kissing me and stuff which- you know, I didn't mind," I giggled. "But he kept trying to go... further," I insinuated.

Aanya grimaced.

"I know. And I kept moving his hand and stuff, not really wanting to go there yet, and I don't know he just wasn't taking the hint," I said. "And then eventually I like, pulled away 'cause it was going too far for me, and he was all like 'I thought you knew what I meant when I asked to come watch a movie,'" I put my pencil down and hid my face in embarrassment.

"And it was sooo awkward, I was so embarrassed," I groaned.

"You were embarrassed?" She asked, and I nodded. "Why? He was totally out of line Layla, surely you know that, right?" She asked sternly.

I looked back at her, "Well, I don't know. Now that I think about it, it does sound kinda obvious. Anyways he seemed a bit irritated and offered to watch the rest of the movie anyways but I told him I had to go."

"Jesus Christ, Layla," she said, "That's so wrong, please believe me when I tell you that you did nothing wrong there, he was out of line and should be embarrassed by his behaviour," she told me sternly.

"You think?" I asked, still unsure.

"I know."

I took a deep breath, "Alright then, I guess you're right. Anyways, he showed up today with flowers, apologising and telling me how he messed up, so it was really sweet."

Aanya looked at me skeptically, "Hmm okay, at least he apologised. Which Adam is this? He goes here right?" She asked.

"Yep," I replied, "It's Adam Holmes."

Her face morphed into one of complete disgust, "What? Why are you dating him? He's a total man whore," she said, making me recoil slightly. She noted my reaction and immediately apologised.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that... but Layla, he's kinda known for breaking girls' hearts and stuff. He's a total sex-then-dip kind of guy. I don't know if..."

"You sound just like Josh," I complained, "Trust me, he treats me really well and acts differently around me than how you guys describe him," I argued.

Aanya looked like she wanted to say something else, but held it back, "Okay, well if you're happy then I'm happy. But don't take any more shit from him like what happened yesterday. 'Kay?" She asked, more like an order than a question.

I laughed, "Okay, I won't."

We spent a few more minutes discussing our artworks and what our plans were once the outlining sketch was over, before falling into a comfortable silence.

"So, what's going on in Aanya's life?" I asked.

She groaned, hard, "Nothing. Unlike yours, my love life is barren."

"No more contact with Danny?" I asked.

"Nope, none," she said sadly.

"Hmmm okay, I'll see if the boys have another group thing going on if I can invite you, I'm sure Danny would love for you to come. Maybe I can even bring you along to band practice one day after school," I thought.

"Ooh that would be cool, but I don't want to impose on them, only invite me if they really don't mind," she said anxiously.

"They wouldn't mind, but I'll make sure anyway," I clarified. "Wait," I laughed, "Isn't Danny like way too young for you?"

"I'm young for the year," she exclaimed happily. "Plus, I'm a December baby, So I'm nearly two years young for the year."

"What? So you're telling me I became friends with a literal child?" I joked, and we both laughed for a bit.

"Shut up," she warned. "Anyways, so I'm nearly exactly one year older than him," she stated happily.

"Wow, you guys are just made for each other then," I joked and she rolled her eyes.

The rest of the day rolled by smoothly, and I thankfully felt comfortable on the car in the car ride home.

I had nearly forgotten I was going over to study with Josh when we parked outside of his house.

The boys filtered past me into the house, while I stood waiting at the threshold, for Josh to get the car parked properly.

"You can go inside y' know. You're always welcome in our house, never gotta wait for one of us to answer the door or anything either," he said, touching my elbow lightly to guide me into the house and towards the stairs of his room.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna just impose or assume or.." I trailed off.

"Always welcome. Never question it," he clarified. "Now, I thought we could study on the dining table, but looks like Mom's doing some baking, which for some God damned reason means she needs to use every flat surface she can find. So, we'll have to use my room if that's alright."

"Yeah that's fine," I said, cringing as my stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of baking.

Josh turned to me and smirked as we made our way up the stairs, "Hungry?"

I smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, a little."

"Good, 'cause I'm starving," he commented, swinging his bedroom door open and b-lining straight to his chester drawers, where evidently, there was a stash of chips and other processed foods hidden amongst what looked like his underwear.

He threw me a packet of barbecue chips and took a few other packs out to sit on his bedside table.

"Mmm thanks, these are my favourite," I said, ripping into the bag.

"I know," he said, making me blush a little.

How did he know that?

"I don't know if there's enough space on my desk for both of us so you can take the desk and I'll just sit on my bed," he suggested.

His desk and bed were only separated by his bedside table, so working together would still be achievable from our different spots.

I welcomed the familiar smell of Josh into my senses, and let it calm me deeply as I took a seat on his desk chair and pulled my books from my bag.

"You know, the last time I was here, you were half-conscious on your bed, telling me you'd tried to sell Jake when you were kids?"

Josh barked a laugh, "Oh God, I remember that. Don't remember telling you though. Don't remember much from that day actually."

"That's probably a good thing," I joked.

"Fuck, do I even wanna know what I said?" He asked.

"Mmm," I pretended to think about it for a moment, "Probably not."

He giggled, with a faint blush on his cheeks, "Alright, let's get working then. Wanna do that practice paper Sir gave us today?" He asked.

"Yep good idea," I said, pulling the papers from my bag, as well as my calculator.

We sat mostly in silence, only speaking to check we both got the same answer on each question. I would frequently have to stop and show Josh how to work something out properly, but I didn't mind. The best way to learn was to teach.

"What, why?" Josh asked once I had explained a particularly difficult question.

"Because the angles are alternate. So angle of elevation and angle of depression are the same angles. Then all you've gotta do is use those angles with those opposite side lengths to use the sine rule to find x."

"What the fuckkkk," he groaned, falling back onto his bed.

"Hang on, lemme find the formula sheet to explain it to you," I suggested, filtering through the copious amounts of papers strewn over his desk, in search of the formula sheet.

"While you do that," he started, bounding off his bed, "I'm gonna go take a piss."

I scoffed at his vulgarity as he wandered off, before focusing back on looking for the paper.

I decided to sort through each paper individually to find it as for some reason it had become totally lost beneath them all. Paper after paper, and I let out a frustrated sigh.

"Where is-" I mumbled, cutting myself short when I pulled a small, lined piece of paper. I didn't recognise this?

I flipped it over to see Josh's handwriting scribbled in all directions over the page, drawings and doodles filling in the gaps.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, I flipped the paper back over, but not before I saw my own name.

Glancing back at his door to make sure he wasn't there, I slowly turned the paper again and read its material.

It looked like maybe lyrics for a song, or a poem, but by the messy chords written around and paired with words, I settled on the chances it was a song he may be writing. But that didn't explain the amount of times my name had been written on that flimsy piece of paper.

Shocked, I stared at the paper, reading as many words as I could as quickly as my eyes could travel.

Was this song about me?

It couldn't be.

But why was my name written over every spare inch of the paper?

"Find it?" Josh asked as he wandered back into the room and I jumped, shoving the paper back under the messy pile.

"Mmm no, can't find it anywhere," I said, trying to mask my emotion.

"Oh," he laughed, "Here it is."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, snatching the paper off his bed, trying my hardest to ignore what I had just seen to continue with our study time.

After another rough hour of maths, we both decided to call it a day, wandering downstairs into the living room where Ronnie, Jake and Sam were sitting around lazily, watching the TV.

"Hey," they greeted as Josh and I joined them on the soft couches.

"Wanna go practice?" Josh asked.

Jake and Sam both agreed, getting up from their spots, and making their way downstairs to the garage.

"Come watch us?" Josh asked.

"Yeah of course," I said happily, feeling glad he offered as I didn't want to assume and intrude.

Like usual, I settled on the old couch as the boys took their places by their instruments.

"What about Danny?" I asked.

"We're just gonna do a bit of jamming, see if we can come up with something, so it's not too urgent to have drums."

"Ahh, okay."

The boys started playing and I admired how Jake and Sam's playing complimented each others tremendously, and how Josh often inputted lyrics and melodic hums to flow against them.

Though, the peaceful music was often interrupted by their constant bickering as they argued over riffs and timings.

"No, no, no, Jake it's gotta be like," Sam instructed, playing a funky bass line.

"What? No, 'cause you can't just- like this Sammy, listen," Jake argued, drowning his bass out with his guitar.

I stifled my laugh at their antics as I curled up tighter on their couch, covering my mouth with a pillow.

"Hey, what are you laughing at?" Sam demanded jokingly.

I giggled, "You guys are funny."

"Well, what d'you think sounds better then? Jake's shitty version or mine?" Sam asked and Jake rolled his eyes.

"Hmmm," I thought, "Maybe a bit of both. Start with that funk tune Sam had but instead of ending it down low let it flow into Jake's higher section," I suggested.

They looked at me with raised eyebrows before back at each other.

"Two three four," Sam counted, before they played the melody I had suggested and in my opinion, it sounded amazing.

Bright smiles were shared across the room at the sound, and Josh started humming out a tune overtop as they continued to jam.

"MmmmMMmm, you're in and out of fashion, mmmMMmm," Josh sang, even adding a "ta ta ta ta," to fill in for where Danny would be.

I laughed as they continued on, Jake playing a superb guitar lick, before repeating what I had suggested, until the music faded out slowly, as they ran out of ideas.

"Quick! Write that down," Jake yelled, but Sam was already jotting the chords on a piece of paper.

"Hmmm, we might have to keep you around Layla, girl. Gonna make us big," Jake complimented, and I blushed.

"Alright enough of that, let's perfect Talk on the Street, we still haven't gotten that solo fixed up," Josh instructed.

They played a few more impressive songs, and bickered endlessly until I finally called it a night. Josh walked me back to my house and told me he'd be right there the next morning to pick me up for school.

"Hey, Dad!" I yelled as I walked into the house.

"Hi Sweets, how was school?" He asked from the kitchen.

"School was good, watcha makin'?" I asked, watching him chop up vegetables on a cutting board.

"Soup for dinner tonight, don't got the energy to cook up anything nice," he said bashfully.

"That's fine, soup is yum."

I helped Dad with the rest of dinner, and poured us each a bowl while he laid cutlery on the coffee table.

"Mmm this is really good, Dad," I complimented, after a spoonful as we sat around the coffee table together with the TV playing in the background. "How's work going? You liking the new job still?"

"Yeah, loving it. The role is perfect for me. Oh! And speaking of, I heard the producers discussing new bands and artists, and I thought I might be able to set something up with your friends next door. They play music right?"

I perked up at his words, "Yeah, they do. I was just over listening to them practice, they're really good! You should definitely set them up," I said excitedly.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do, but no promises."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks, Dad."

We sat silently eating and watching the TV for a bit longer until I was reminded of the fact that Mum wasn't there. And she hadn't been here for a while.

"Hey uh, where's Mum?" I asked and Dad sighed deeply.

"I'm pretty sure she's working," he said plainly.

"Do you... do you know whats going on with her at the moment? She's never home anymore. I mean, I couldn't even tell you the last time I saw her," I asked.

"I don't know sweetie, I think she's just finding the new move a bit tough. Hopefully she comes around soon. I'm sorry you haven't had much time with her," he apologised.

I wanted to say something about how the move was months ago. Something about how she had a family at home she was abandoning, but that wasn't Dad's fault.

"S' okay. Not your fault," I mumbled.

Suddenly, he perked up, "I know, why don't we have a barbecue one of these weekends once your exams are over? You can bring all your new friends and your mum and I can bring our work people too?"

I smiled, "Yeah that sounds like a great idea!" Excitement bubbled in my stomach, I had two pieces of good news to tell Josh now.

After dinner, I cleaned up in the kitchen and got myself ready for bed. As I was hanging up my wet towel after the shower, I glanced at my phone for what felt like the first time all day and saw that I had left Adam on delivered for over two hours. Shit.

Adam Wanna redo that movie at mine on friday? no funny business this time wanna make it up to you

Layla yea sure id love to

Adam okay cool see you tomorrow at lunch?

I felt a pit of guilt for abandoning Josh at lunchtimes, considering that he was there for me when I didn't know anyone else, and an even deeper one for sitting with Oliver despite how he had treated me.

But I had no choice.

Layla yep see you

The rest of the week went by painfully slowly.

Exams were rapidly deteriorating my physical and mental health, as it seemed I hadn't seen the sun all week.

Trapped at home studying, in a car, or in an exam hall was most likely the most depressing week of routine I had ever experienced.

Luckily, I had grown accustomed to lunch with Adam and his friends. I learned quickly what to say and what not to say to avoid any conflict, and managed to stay out of Oliver's road completely, learning to wait a few minutes until after the bell so that I could see where he was sitting and avoid him.

A part of me wished that I could tell Adam everything about Oliver, and make him see the truth about his awful friend. But I couldn't.

The idea of Adam choosing him over me, which wasn't completely unlikely, restricted me from any chance of confrontation.

The movie night at Adam's went perfectly, and ironically, almost mimicable to how I expected it to go the first time.

We had takeaway dinner and snuggled up on the couch watching a movie peacefully, and when I walked home, my phone was thankfully on enough battery to navigate me home.

Then the weekend came by like a saving grace from my studies, and Saturday morning blessed us with sunny skies and warm breezes.

Adam wasn't free to do anything all weekend, so I was left at home with Dad, meandering aimlessly around the house.

As I floated around my house, opening up windows to let the fresh breeze inside, I got a text from Josh.

Josh hey i found this really cool new hiking trail about an hours drive away wanna come with me today? jake and sam are being lazy

I laughed and texted back immediately.

Layla hahah yeah id love to what time?

Josh I can come pick you up in thirty mins?

Layla okay cool see u sooooon

I hurried to get ready, already excited to both see Josh and to spend some time out of the house.

As I tied up my boots, Josh knocked on the door and I ran over to it, swinging it open happily.

"Hellooo," I greeted with a big smile. I was in an incredible mood today.

Josh somehow smiled brighter than ever too, "Hellooo, you ready to go?" He asked.

"Yep!" I chirped, throwing my bag over my shoulder and yelling 'bye' to my dad. "So, where we going?" I asked as we walked down my front steps to Josh's car.

"It's this off roading place up past Saginaw. Just gotta follow the I-75 North and then turn West when we get to Standish. You know where that is?" He asked as he opened the passenger door for me.

I laughed, "No idea, but I'll take your word for it."

Josh chuckled, "Choose a CD from the glove compartment," he instructed, leaning over and opening the drawer for me to filter through.

"Okay thanks!" I said happily.

"You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood today Miss. Smiley," Josh teased.

I laughed, "I'm excited to be outside. Exams killed me this week."

He hummed in agreement, "Some nature'll fix that up nice and quick don't you worry."

Josh switched on the engine and we drove off and out of Frankenmuth with ease. The freeway was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday, so my anxiety was thankfully low.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Josh exclaimed, twisting in his seat to reach into his back pocket where he pulled out a mostly squished, little, pink flower. "Oh. It looked better before I sat on it, I swear."

I laughed and took it from his fingers, "Thank you, I'm sure you picked the prettiest one."

"'Course, prettiest flower for the prettiest girl," he flirted, and my face heated up.

Was it really moral for him to be making comments like that while I was in a relationship? Probably not. But that was just how Josh was, his flirty personality had been carried with him since the months ago that I had met him.

I let out one small chuckle, which came out more like a, "Hmph," before I leaned over and turned Fleetwood Mac's 'Rumours' up a little higher.

"What you got planned for tomorrow?" Josh asked.

"Nothing so far, might try and find a job, I'm in desperate need of some money," I laughed.

"Ooh that's cool, where you gonna apply to?" He asked.

"Probably nowhere outside of Frankenmuth, 'cause I don't have a car and the bus to Saginaw takes like over an hour," I said. "And I'll just apply wherever's hiring, I don't have much of a preference."

"That's exciting, want me to come with? I can make sure you don't miss any places..."

"Yeah if you're not busy doing anything else, that would be so good," I said truthfully.

"Sure. You free tomorrow night too?" He asked.

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"Well, I know it's last minute, but we got this really cool gig to open for a local band in Saginaw. I don't know how the fuck Mom got it for us, but anyways. I can drive you up there if you wanna come?"

"What? That's great Josh! Of course I'll come! That's so exciting," I practically bounced in my seat. "Oh! And I forgot to tell you oh my gosh I've been so busy with exams all week how could I forget?"

"What is it?" He asked with as much energy as I had shown.

"Okay, so you know how my dad works for that event management company?" I asked and he nodded his head. "Well, he told me he heard the producers that the company works with talking about recruiting new bands. Dad said he would talk to them, put in a good word for you guys," I beamed.

"No way! That's huge Layla! Do you know anything else, or just that your dad is gonna mention us?" He asked, absolutely vibrating with energy.

"No, he said no promises so don't get your hopes up too high, but I promise, I'll tell you as soon as I find out."

"Okay, you've gotta tell him we say thanks, even if it doesn't work out. Man, I'm so excited to tell the boys," he buzzed.

"And..." I drawled out.

"More good news?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Yep, next weekend I think, Dad wants us to host a barbecue at our house. And I can invite whoever I want. And he and Mum will invite who they want too, which basically means the adults are gonna be way too intoxicated to notice any of us drinking too," I said.

"Whoooo! And it's after exams," Josh exclaimed.

"Yep! So you'll come?" I asked.

"Of course I will," he replied dramatically.

"Jake, Sam and Danny can come too, and tell them they can bring their friends if they want. Usually Dad likes a big turnout at these kinds of things. Hurts his ego if barely anyone shows up," I explained.

"Okay, I'll let them know when we get home then."

Excitement bubbled in my stomach as we pulled off the freeway, and we soon pulled into a little dirt bay on the side of the road.

"No car park?" I asked.

"Not out here in the wild, baby!" He yelled, swinging open his door and jumping onto the dusty trail.

I hopped out and followed him to the trunk where he had stashed his hiking backpack.

"Now, did you pack enough water? I've got a few more bottles in here just incase but don't wanna bring too many incase it slows us down."

"Yep, I brought two," I confirmed, showing off the sides of my backpack where both water bottles sat in little net holders.

"Great, and food. Did you pack anything to eat?" He asked.

"Yeah, an apple and a little chicken lettuce sandwich."

He furrowed his brows and shook his head, "No, no that won't be enough." He reached into the trunk and pulled out various tinfoil-wrapped items, shoving them deep into his unzipped backpack.

"Alrighty then, I got two little towels in my bag for us to sit on too when we find a place to stop and rest," he added.

"Perfect! Let's go," I said excitedly.

Josh threw his bag over his shoulders, shut the trunk and locked the car before walking over to me and showing me the trail we would be following.

The weather had grown significantly hotter as Summer approached, and as the sun beat down upon my head, I thanked myself for wearing a cap.

The trees in the area were very tall, and once we entered the bush, they protected us from the sweltering heat of the sun.

"Fuck, it's hot today," Josh commented. "Watch out for the drop there," he warned, pointing to a little step down in the natural trail.

"I know, I love it," I said, soaking in the heat and the feeling of sweat on my skin. I knew it sounded gross, but the humidity reminded me of home.

Birds I hadn't heard before called to each other in the treetops as we wandered through the thin track until it widened enough that we could walk side by side.

I pointed out sparrows on the track as they landed on branches beside us, peering through the branches curiously. Josh managed to make me laugh for almost all of the walk, puffing me out far more than I usually would have been.

"Woah Josh, look," I said, as I spotted an amazing view through a break in branches. We had scaled the area quite high, after most of our walking was on a slight incline, making the view infinitely more beautiful.

"Fuckkkk, I didn't realise how high, we'd gotten," he commented. "Looks so good though. Hey, do you see that stream down there? It's like aqua blue," he admired.

"Oh yeah, I see it. Does the trail lead there?" I asked.

He shrugged, "No clue, let's find out."

We walked and talked for another two hours before we came to a clearing.

"Holy shit," Josh said.

The track did lead to the water source, and before us was the clearest water I had ever seen, glistening in the sun and trickling past the rocks at the bank smoothly.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen a river this beautiful before," I said, wiping a layer of sweat from my forehead.

"It looks fairly deep too," Josh commented as he wandered to the riverbed and leaned over the edge.

The river wasn't too wide, I obvserved- only about five wades through the water to make it to the other side.

Josh dropped his backpack and pulled his boots and socks off hastily.

"What are you doing?" I asked bemusedly.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He asked rhetorically as he stretched his arms to his back and grasped his shirt, pulling it off his body and throwing it on a pile on the grass by his bag and shoes.

"You can't be serious," I said. Next to go were his shorts, and I adverted my gaze as soon as I saw him grasp the waistband.

"Oh, I so am," I heard him say before a loud splash sounded in the silence of the clearing. I whipped my head back to him, where he now stood in the steady stream, the water level just touching his upper chest.

He lowered the top half of his body under the water and emerged moments later, hair soaking wet as he ran it backward away from his face.

He let out a pleasured gasp, "Layla, you've got to get in, it's heavenly."

I crossed my arms, standing still in my spot, "You're crazy, Josh."

He waded towards the bank to be closer to me, "Come on, aren't you hot?" He asked.

I huffed, because yes, I was absolutely boiling.

I glanced at the pile of his clothes and then back to him again before groaning in defeat.

"Alright, fine," I said hastily as I toed my boots off, "But if I get a brain-eating amoeba, I'm blaming you," I joked as I pulled my hair out of its ponytail.

He laughed, "Nothing to hurt you here, running water's always clean," he argued as I took my backpack off. "See?" He asked as he bent down to scoop up a mouthful of water with his mouth before gulping dramatically.

I shook my head at him, "You're so weird."

He only flashed me a bright toothy grin in return. He spun around in the water to give me privacy while I stripped my shirt and shorts from my sticky body before I too jumped into the water.

The water shocked my muscles as soon as I made contact, but I welcomed the cold into my overheated body.

The water reached above my chest, so practically none of my body was on display other than my shoulders and head.

Josh turned around at the sound, and I dipped my head beneath the surface, revelling in the cooling water.

I resurfaced, my hair already slicked away from my face as I smiled brightly at Josh.

"You're right, this feels so good," I said.

Josh nodded and smiled, before dipping below the surface again. I could see his swimming figure beneath the clear water and I watched as he stilled for a moment, worried he had begun to drown, before his hand shot out in front of him.

He resurfaced with none other than a fish in his hand, shaking rapidly in his hold,

"Holy shit Josh, did you just catch that with your hand?" I asked loudly.

He laughed, "Hell yeah I did." He waded through the water, the fish still in hand, and I soon realised that he was coming right for me.

"No, no, no don't let that thing get anywhere near me," I shrieked as I swam away, kicking waves of water in his face as he followed me.

"Hey!" He shouted as I kicked water into his face.

He let the fish swim back into the river gently, before pushing his forearm through the water, sending a wave my way, which absolutely soaked me.

I gasped, flinging more water his way, and we were soon in a full-blown giggly water fight.

"Okay! Okay, truce!" He yelled through waves of water, and I paused my assaults.

Out of breath, I chuckled, "Okay, truce."

We lazed around the river for another ten minutes, until Josh climbed out back onto the bank. I had abandoned the need to advert my gaze, and I watched selfishly as his wet underwear clung tightly to his butt.

Back still turned, I watched as the clear droplets of water cascaded down his muscles, flexing when he reached up to run a hand through his soaked, slick-backed hair.

He pulled one of his towels from his backpack and wrapped it around his waist, while I quickly looked away and reprimanded myself for my own thoughts.

I had a boyfriend. And I was staring at someone elses butt shamelessly. Seriously, what was wrong with me?

"You getting out now too or gonna soak a bit longer?" Josh asked me, kneeling down and fishing out items of food from his bag.

"I'll get out now too," I replied, feeling my stomach twist in hunger. He threw a towel my way from the bag, which landed right by the edge of the bank, before practically burying his head in the bag to allow me to leave the water unseen.

I quickly pulled myself up and out, and wrapped the towel around my body, sighing at the feeling of the warm sun on my wet skin.

I wrung my wet hair out to help it dry faster and wandered over to Josh, taking a seat on a small rock next to him. He wordlessly handed me the sandwich that I had made, and I hungrily bit into it.

"Thanks," I said around a mouthful of food.

"No problem. There's more sandwiches in my bag, so just let me know if you want any more."

We sat eating in silence for a while, watching as birds flew around the clearing we were in, and admiring the beauty of the area.

"Don't you think this grass looks like satin?" I asked, digging my toes into the soft green spines.

He hummed in agreement. "You nervous to go job hunting tomorrow?" He asked.

"Mmm, a little bit," I replied.

He hesitated for a moment. "Why don't you have your driver's licence yet? That way you could go to Saginaw for more jobs. Is the legal age older in Australia or something?" He asked.

The question silenced me. I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't come up with a believable lie quick enough to redirect the conversation.

"I don't really like driving and cars and stuff," I admitted. "Scares me a bit," I muttered quietly.

"Oh," he said, clearly unsure whether or not to ask more questions, and I was grateful for his attention to help me stay comfortable. "Is... doe- why?" He asked.

I took a deep breath, catching sight of two monarch butterflies twisting and tangling in a frightful dance above the stream.

If I was going to ever tell Josh, this was probably the best time to do it.

"I um... I got into a car crash a couple years ago. It was pretty bad," I stated plainly.

I could see him recoil in my peripheral vision, and I furrowed my eyebrows, hoping he didn't think of me or treat me any differently than usual.

I focused instead on the way the sun beamed on the clearing and the way the trees in the distance swayed in the gentle breeze.

Deep breaths, I told myself.

"W- fuck, Layla. Were you... were you okay?" He asked, now looking at the side of my face.

I swallowed, "Not really," I chuckled humourlessly.

"Shit, I don't know what to say. Who was um, who was driving?" He asked.

"I was uh, on the way home from a party in an Uber, and a... drunk driver ran a stop sign. Pretty fast," I explained, itching a spot on my head.

Though the conversation was deep and painful, I wasn't feeling uncomfortable like I usually was. Instead, it felt incredibly good to get it off my chest. Even better than when I told Sammy about it.

"Jesus, is that why you-"

"Holy shit, Josh. What is that..." I interrupted, as past the river and in the hide of bush, I saw the outline of a feline animal emerge. Josh followed my gaze and froze.

"Fuck that's a cougar," he said in alarm, and I felt the blood drain from my head.

The animal stepped down and out of the bush towards the bank, watching us closely as it neared. Though the bank was wide, it was definitely not wide enough to stop that animal from leaping across it for a meal.

"Okay, Layla, get up and stay behind me. But don't cower. It'll know if you're scared," he spoke, taking my arm as he stood, positioning me behind him.

I watched in fear as he maintained strict eye contact with the animal which sniffed the air, the breeze carrying out scents towards it.

"Layla, can you grab me one of the towels from the ground, try not to crouch too much though," he instructed, and I quickly stretched my arm to take the towel and hand it to Josh, whos hand was open and waiting behind his back.

In a burst of energy, Josh stepped forward, waving his arms manically and screaming like a madman.

He stretched the towel over his head, which I assumed was to make himself seem bigger in the face of the animal.

Josh turned completely animalistic, screaming as the real animal cowered slightly, flinching at Josh's deafening yells before it finally turned and ran into the bush.

Josh watched until the animal was completely out of sight before turning his back on the area and quickly making his way to me.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Layla. They aren't usually sighted this close to the roads," he stressed, running his hands over my hair and arms. "You're- you're okay though, right?" He asked, but all I could do was laugh.

Maybe it was the adrenaline speaking, but that was the most exhilarating experience I had ever had.

"That was so cool Josh oh my god!" I exclaimed. "I can't believe that just happened. That was so fun!"

He looked at me in bewilderment, before cracking a small laugh too, "Holy shit you're insane."

"Hey," I argued, shoving his shoulder.

"Well I'm glad you were enjoying yourself, but we should probably head out. Can only get lucky so many times," he chuckled.

I laughed, "Yeah, you're probably right."

We both changed back into our clothes with our backs turned to each other, and threw our rubbish back into our bags before throwing them back over our shoulders.

"Oh my god I still can't believe that just happened," I gushed, and Josh laughed beside me as we made our way back onto the trail we came from.

We trekked the next few hours back to the car, joking about what had just happened, and once we made it back to the car, the exhaustion kicked in.

The metal rod in my thigh had made itself known, by greeting me with its aching throbs, and I thanked the heavens we were finished walking for the day.

We shoved our things back into the boot, and I gathered my now dry hair in my hands to put back into a ponytail, but frowned when I felt my wrist was empty.

"Ugh," I complained, "I must've lost my hair tie in the water."

"Oh that sucks," Josh said as we got seated in the car, "Why do you need to put it back up?" He asked.

I shrugged as I clicked my seatbelt on, "I dunno, just thought it probably looked crazy after the river water."

He shook his head, "Nup, looks great to me. Nice and curly."

I smiled at his comment, comparing his comment to that of the girls at Adam's lunch table.

We soon drove off and were back on the freeway on our way home, and the mixture of worn off adrenaline, my utter exhaustion from the hike and the quiet hum of the Madness album in the CD player had me falling asleep within minutes.

As we drove back to Frankenmuth, I tried my hardest to keep my eyes on the mostly empty highway before us, as I fought off the temptation to look at Layla while she slept.

She looked so pretty and so peaceful, her wild curls cascading down and around her face, as she lay in the crook between the door and her seat.

Fuck, what a day.

I didn't know which was more of a surprise, Layla's admittance at being in a car crash, or the fucking cougar that nearly made us its next meal.

I ran a hand through my somehow still damp hair and took a deep breath.

Was that what Layla had been keeping from me? It lined up well, explaining the deep scar on her stomach.

I never got much of a chance to ask, but if my assumptions were true, it must have been horrific to leave her with such a deep injury.

My heart tightened at the thought.

It even further explained the panic attack she had, most likely triggered by our near accident.

Fuck, that must have been terrifying.

And embarrassingly, the more I thought about it, the more obvious it became. It explained her inability to drive to school with us the following weeks, and it also explained her obvious anxiety every time she did have to drive somewhere.

Layla was still carrying some dark memories from that period in her life, which unquestionably motivated her hesitation to tell me, and I couldn't even handle thinking about what she must have been through. What she was still going through.

We arrived back in Frankenmuth faster than when we left it, and I looked over to Layla who was still sound asleep. The last thing I wanted to do was wake her.

After burning gas in a few pointless loops of town, I eventually pulled up at the curb in front of her house, keeping the engine on incase the change in vibrations woke her.

Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind as I sat silently, listening to her deep, steady breaths as she slept. Though the most prominent thought I had as a result from today's events, was the undeniable sense of gratefulness I felt that she trusted me enough to tell me.

I had been an idiot in the past, getting angry at her for not opening up, and I hoped she believed me when I told her how sorry I was to ever hurt her. To ever push her.

But knowing that she trusted me enough to tell me now, had a feather of peace settling in my stomach, one that I hadn't known was caught adrift until now.

Knocking on the car window made me jump, and I looked over to see Layla's dad standing by the car.

"Hey, Mr. King," I said quietly, after opening the door, not wanting to wake sleeping Layla. The sun had begun to set now, and the dusk air entered the car through the open door.

"Hi Josh, wh-," he stopped when he saw Layla's sleeping form in the passenger seat. "Shit, is she okay? Did something happen?" He asked frantically, and despite my respect for the man, I shushed him.

"Shh, she's sleeping," I explained, cringing at my own actions as they unfolded.

He looked at me incredulously, "Sleeping? Wha- Layla can't sleep in cars. Just tell me the truth boy, is she hurt?"

His words filled me with an immense sense of pride.

Layla can't sleep in cars. But she slept in mine, while I was driving. I was smiling like an idiot on the inside.

I tried to hide my joy, "I promise you, she's just tired. I didn't want to wake her though, I've just been sitting here letting her sleep," I explained.

"Are you sure?" He asked, rounding the car and quietly opening the passenger door. I nodded and watched in displeasure as he lightly shook her shoulder to wake her.

Her brows furrowed and she groaned in annoyance, though she didn't wake from her slumber. This seemed to be enough evidence that Layla was truly asleep rather than the victim of something like a harsh concussion, as he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Alright, I'm sorry for doubting ya, Josh. You're a good boy. Thank you for taking care of her," he praised, as he reached over and unclipped her seatbelt.

I cringed as he scooped her into his arms, praying she didn't wake, and by the looks of it, he was too. When he successfully lifted her from the car, I got out and opened the trunk, grabbing her hiking bag and following him as he carried her up to the house and through the open door.

I left the bag by the threshold, and Layla's dad nodded with a smile, mouthing 'thanks' before carrying her out of sight to her room.

I sighed, closed their front door and made my way back to the car, shutting the trunk and the passenger door, before driving up the road a few metres to my house.

"Hey, honey, how was it?" Mum yelled from the kitchen as I made my way back inside.

"Yeah, really good fun!" I shouted back, running up the stairs to my bedroom.

A bubbly happiness was brewing in my stomach from the day, and I beelined straight to my desk, rummaging around multiple pieces of paper for the right piece. I discarded important school papers to the floor until I found the little one I was looking for.

I pulled a pencil out from the drawer and hastily wrote in the spaces between my messy scribbles a few more lines, inspired by Layla's words, 'hills of satin grass and maidens fair', and 'sparrow of the dawn'.

And overtop of all the writing, the words:

Our Love is Born.

Tag List ~ @wrldabomination @peaceoftheland @asacredthebread @jessiebronze2 @godly-sinsx

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hello my dear!! Since you were stuck between 2 for my TP ship, i thought I'd put in for Round 2 please haha 🤭 You already have my description! I'm so excited to see what you come up with!! 💖

Tysm for all the hard work & time you put in!! 🫶🏼

Yes thank you for your request again lovely!!! 💗

I ship you with….

Eugene Sledge!

song recommendation: Beautiful- Bazzi

- Okay I Think we all kinda saw this coming tbh 😭like you guys just make so much sense together, it would almost be wrong NOT to ship you with him LOL

- i’m sensing a bestfriends to lovers trope for sureeee

- you guys would probably meet each other through mutually friends, like his friends are friends with yours and one day out you guys end up all meeting up and hanging out, when he met you though, his jaw would be to the actual floor, he would think you are so beautiful and angelic, like an angel almost “Hi, I’m Eugene” with the biggest doe eyes everrrr, he would be so nice and cute that whole day, like if you need anything ever he would be at your beckon call

- by the end of the day when you guys parted ways, Sid would be teasing him like “Genes gotta crush” and he wouldn’t even try and protest against it, because, well, he does in fact have a huge crush on you, and to sid, genes silence said a lot about how much he really liked you, “why didn’t you ask her out then if you really liked her?”

- After a little conspiring between the two boys, they both came up with the conclusion that he would ask you out the next time all of you guys hung out, and sid would be his official hype man (ofc)

- When the time came and it was time for him to ask you out, he completely froze, like he couldn’t say anything, the fear of you rejecting him completely held him back from saying anything to you, at the end of the night you’d ask him, “Are you mad at me? Did I do something? You haven’t talked to me all night”

- And that’s when he knew he really fucked up, that last thing he ever ever wanted was for you to think he was mad at you, “no, no never, i j-just-” and that’s when you finally shut him up with a kiss, funny thing is, sid had already told you prior about Genes crush on you and the plan to ask you out, “If he gets nervous just kiss em or something!” and so that’s exactly what you did

- actually the cutest couple ever, you guys would be so good for each other, and both of you even the other one out so well, like yin and yang, you both teach each other how to be better people and those kinda relationships are always so healthy!

- let’s also talk about how good of a bf he is to you, like he’s so secure and warm, whenever you’re having a bad day, you can always go to him, plus he can definitely understand when you have bad anxiety sometimes or really just all of the bad things that do come with ptsd, you guys would be each others rock in moments like those

- Gene is the walking definition of, “ If he wanted to, he would” because this man never fails to try and make you feel like a queen everyday you’re with him, yk how some bfs will start to get “comfy” after awhile and completely forget to bring flowers, or open doors, or any of the little things like that? yeah gene will ALWAYS do those things for you, he proves that chivalry is not dead yet 😭

- Dude we all know gene doesn’t really like fighting, like bar fights are overrated as hell to him, but say you guys are out at a bar or something, and snafu makes a comment abt you that makes you extremely uncomfortable, Gene is literally gonna beat the shit outta him, like no one talks about his bae ever, even if they might not expect it, he will get ACTIVE for his girl 👏🏼

- it might not be super visible, but gene is sooo passionate for you, like he would honestly do anything for you, he would take a bullet for you if he had too, his love for you runs DEEP and he shows that to you everyday in so many different ways

- you make this man NERVOUS, like you are so sexy and fun, you give him a full on fever sometimes, and he is constantly wondering to himself how he landed such a pretty girl like you

- and don’t even get me started on when you are dancing around him, or wearing some sort of revealing clothing, his whole heart literally stops, no words can come out of his mouth, The expression on his face is pure awe, his face would get as red as his hair, and he would suddenly get so shy, like he would be starstruck seeing you like that

- you guys would be a dog family, it would be so cute, just like you guys settling down on the country side, with a bunch of animals, maybe even a few kids, y’all’s family would be so nice and warm to be around, everyone in the whole community would like you guys

- some nights, it’s hard for him to sleep, his ptsd really comes in unsteady motions, and some of those times are at night, right before he goes to bed, and when that happens you guys usually stay up together and talk about all sorts of things, just to take both of your minds somewhere else and maybe on some nights you guys will even go out for a drive, and just enjoy the nice night breeze

- both of you are always willing to stand up for what’s right, that’s why you guys are such a good couple, if someone is being mistreated and one of you see it, one of you is gonna say something, while the other is going to be backing them up 100%

- canon: okay imagine you and gene have a kid, and that kid comes home with a black eye or something, and they tell you and gene that they’ve been getting bullied at their school, you and gene will IMMEDIATELY go up to that school looking for that kid 😭 Gene will be the one trying to talk to the faculty, like cussing them out, while you’re trying to find the little shit that punched your kid LOL

- okay, so here me out, but i think you would introduce him to true crime, and true crime series and stuff like that, and he would enjoy it so much, on each others free time both of you could watch a whole season of a true crime series if y’all’d wanted to

- canon: one night, while you guys are out at a bar, you are just dancing, having a ball, but for Gene, he hasn’t danced ONCE, all bc he is a little mortified to embarrass himself and doesn’t want you to think he’s weird, you would say something like later into the night “Why aren’t you dancing with me?” and he would be like “I don’t really know how to” and you would be teaching him all the fun dances and dance moves, and by the end of the night he’d thank you for helping him get out of his comfort zone

- on special occasions, or even on random days, he would write you a small romantic poem, it would be so nicely written and heartfelt, that’s one of the little special thing he does for you, because you are so special to him, this man loves you with his whole heart and would do anything to see your beautiful self happy

Thank you again for your request lovely!! I hope you enjoy!! 💛

[nobodysdaydreams]

Sophie, I gotta say. Your comments on my work have been above and beyond and are so wonderful. BUT A WHOLE GOOGLE DOC???? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕😍😍😍😍

My wonderful friend, thank you so much! Praise and enjoyment of this level deserves a worthy response so without further ado...

My comments on Sophie’s Wonderful Chapter 16 Comments (I'll have to do Ch. 17 later):

First off, I love you that you love my stuff about the Helpers and what happens to the kids (the show just put it in the background, so I wanted to explain that a bit better). As for Milligan, he might have mentioned an Institute employee, but they had a lot to figure out (especially with the whole Kate reveal thing) so Garrison wasn’t exactly at the top of his priority list. at least not at the time.

“AND HE THINKS MR. BENEDICT IS JUST GOING TO GIVE HIM BACK TO HIS AUNT NO QUESTIONS ASKED.”

^I mean, his Aunt is his legal guardian. It would take a lot of effort for Mr. Benedict to fight for him (not that he wouldn’t). I like that you enjoyed the way I wrote Sticky. I don’t know if I’d say he’s the hardest to write, I actually think Reynie might be the most difficult to write for me, but it’s hard to say.

“Oh my goodness, Bods, you somehow nail this kid’s inner monologue so well every single time!! (I say as if you aren’t amazing at writing each and every character you try your hand at)”

^^ And... then I reread this right after I say Reynie is most difficult (mainly because he's the one that's most stereotyped as the "good, unflawed, angelic golden boy", so his conflicts and flaws are less obvious) but I'm glad you like what I wrote for him! Sorry that part about him wanting to live with Miss. Perumal, but being realistic made you cry.

And yes, Kate did tell them right away (and poor Nicholas of course blamed himself for what Nathaniel did).

I'm glad you liked the set up. I wanted to find a good way to begin the narration and account for the character movements that would end with them where they were at the end of Episode 1x8.

"Bods. Bods, I need you to understand that I absolutely adore how you handled Sticky’s family. I am so very over the moon about how you fixed it from being incredibly frustrating in the way the Show decided to go, while not completely ignoring what we see on-screen!!!!! You pulled in elements from the Books, and you weave such complex and satisfying stories for everyone in between the Show plot holes. I’m still crying over this"

^I'm so glad because I LOVED writing this! Sticky deserved a better story arc ending after they almost made him give into the Whisperer. And I also loved having Nicholas talk to him about it, because Nicholas understands how important family is, and how this is a complicated decision for Sticky (his aunt is toxic to him, but Sticky still cares about her, and there were other factors, but it doesn't excuse her actions), because Nicholas lived through that!

"Oooooooohhhhh, Bods. Your psychological and logistical explanations are fantastic. You put so much attention into every aspect, and it makes my analytical brain incredibly happy. The differences in anxiety, the way the Emergency adapted to mess with all kinds of people, the irrational fears. Beautiful"

^I LOVE thinking and writing about the Whisperer and Brain Sweeper's effects on different people. It's so much fun. Also your comments about the Washingtons just showing up on Mr. Benedict's doorstep was funny. No amount of security can keep away a determined parent (or apologetic guilt driven aunt).

So I'm not gonna copy EVERY quote about the Sticky scene (we'd be here all day), but I loved writing about how ending the Emergency had changed her, and Sticky connecting it to his own situation.

"The way you write her dialogue is heartbreaking. We don’t even know this woman’s name and I am instantly sobbing on her behalf. She’s so scared for Sticky, and she seems so sad. She lost her sister, who she was so close to once, and she almost lost Sticky."

^Okay, I'm really glad you liked this! I try to make all my characters seem like real people, and I was worried people wouldn't like me giving Sticky's aunt a slightly more sympathetic take, even if it was a more realistic and relatable one. But I'm glad it landed! (And yes she and Sticky both need hugs).

"THEY BOTH WANT TO TRY TO BE BETTER. AND HE’S WILLING TO GIVE THEM A CHANCE. THIS IS LITERALLY ALL I WANTED AND MORE FROM THE SHOW THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH BODS" / "AND NOW WE GET AN EXTRA SCENE FROM THE AUNT’S PERSPECTIVE I WAS SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT HERE. JUST SPINNING IN CIRCLES REPEATEDLY" /"And then all the things you hinted at with his parents, and how you referenced that his mom was in a wheelchair, so many little leads and Book details!!!"

^It's all I wanted from the show too. As for the extra scene, that's mostly insurance. (Not sure if you've seen my post about Reynie and Sticky and the concept of an "unbalanced plot", but I can elaborate on that if you're curious.)

"Everything you write adds so much detail and depth and sympathy and such a complex view of how these characters are people. They feel real, like flawed, imperfect humans who are trying their best, but still make mistakes. I cannot stop thinking about how fantastic all of these characters have become in your hands"

Friend 🥹. I am hugging you through my screen rn. Thank you. 🥰

"AND THE SQ LINE. I WAS THINKING ABOUT IT. AND I’M CRYING ON THE INSIDE." / "SHE KNOWS KATE. SORT OF. AND SHE STILL REMINDS HER OF SQ."

^Yep. It all comes back around. And I'm glad you liked the way I rewrote some show scenes. It's tricky, because now that I finished chapter 17 and am jumping back into show content, there are some scenes where I don't include new plot details, but cutting them feels wrong (I do cut most of the kid's stuff since this fic focuses on the adult plotlines, but I don't want them cut completely, you know what I mean? It's tricky, especially since they are separated from the adults a lot in season 2, so I might just write mostly about the adults for the first three episodes and cut back to them later, especially since I didn't copy in their dialogue or movements. But we'll see).

"And she’s already started the paperwork!!! And she goes right into calling her mom Reynie’s grandmother!! And she wants to see him!!! THEY’RE A FAMILY"

^YES THEY ARE!

"And then Constance!! / Nicholas wants so deeply to make sure Constance is safe and loved. With all his heart he’s trying to do what’s best for her, and even though some of it is because of what happened with Nathaniel, he is aware of what his emotions are, and he appreciates Constance for herself!!!"

^Ah yes, he Constance and Nathaniel parallels (laughs in chapter 17...)

"And Constance has learned that her “colleagues” are different than she was expecting!! But she still doesn’t say it out loud because she’s still so defensive (Although I’d bet Mr. Benedict can read between the lines pretty well at this point)"

^AND DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE REFERRED TO HIS FRIENDS AS HIS COLLEGUES??? Our favorite theater kid (derogatory).

"Sticky saying he wants to go to Boatwright feels infinitely better in this context"

^I'm glad 🥰

“I see where this is going,” groaned Constance trying her best to act unimpressed and unemotional about the whole situation.”  / ASKFJKDFJKDSKJHDFSJKSDKJHDSJKDSFKJHDF OKAY / Poor Nicholas is such a disaster of emotions right now, but he doesn’t want to burden the others. He’s trying his best

^Poor Nicholas just got rejected by his brother and his daughter. He's... he's really going through it. I hope no one decides to take advantage of that /j.

"Curtain and Garrison trying to out manoeuvre each other with their crazy mind games is simultaneously very funny and very sad"

^It's sad, but incredibly fun to write, because (and you won't realize this for a bit) but my gosh Curtain and SOS Garrison are so similar, more than they realize.

"And then she thinks maybe Nicholas doesn’t care about using and hurting children!! Someone needs to put Garrison far far away from all this disaster and help her get over her trust issues. I have no idea how this woman sleeps at night."

^ Pills. Lots and lots of heavy sleeping pills :D👍🏻

"(However, it’s interesting that Curtain yells almost as if he’s panicking about where the kid is. You’re on a boat, my guy. Where could he have gone? You can really see how this makes Curtain’s downward spiral take a turn for the worse)"

^Curtain is such a bad father, and yet he loves his son. It's fun to write but your "he's...he's on a boat. Where do you think he'd have gone?" comment made me laugh...

"Isaac! He may not be there, but I do love him and some day I will finish my notes on how awesome Isaac and Lindsey’s hero moment is, because I still get giddy whenever I think of it"

^I'm glad you liked their subplot. Isaac and Lindsey are gonna fade back a bit, at least for now until I figure out what I want to do with them, but their hero moment was amazing (though poor Jackson and Jillson would disagree).

"Oh dear, Curtain’s first (And admittedly possibly absent-minded) reaction is to fire everyone except Garrison"

^Because she's his friend 🥺. And she's moved so many ethical boundaries to appease him, he figures she of all people wouldn't dare.

"You know, Bods, when you started hinting at this I was a little scared of it being Auguste, and now that he’s confirmed I’m so scared of what is going to happen next / However Curtain certainly deserves it for checking that he won’t be legally prosecuted for kidnapping and then taking him along for a ride without asking"

^He's studying abroad! ⚓🛳️

"Oh my oh dear. Poor SQ has literally no clue what’s going on. He’s such a mess!! I really want to give him a hug too. That must be so stressful for him :( / I KEEP FORGETTING THAT CURTAIN SWEPT HIM AND IT SCARES ME EVERY TIME I HAVE TO CONSIDER THE IMPLICATIONS"

^SWEPT HIM? Sophie, you keep harping on this. We have no evidence of what went on in that chapter. For all you know, maybe SQ really did fall. I see no reason to assume the worst.

"It’s infuriating how if you take Curtain’s vague explanations about Nicholas out of context they actually sound kind of semi-sane"

^I REALLY love this comment. More than you can imagine. Because it's Curtain's truth, he believes it, so of course it sounds sane to him.

"SQ!!!! NOT EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT. STUPID BENEDICT FAMILY TRAIT OF EXTREME GUILT HARBOURING. SOMEONE HELP THIS CHILD"

^This comment also made me smile, though I'll keep the reason to myself. But yes, SQ has picked up on his father's habits and he needs help. (But I'm glad you liked the Curtain and SQ hug).

"Why is the whole of North America grouped like that? Adjkdjdfjkdjk. Like, if you get made in Georgia, then Canada is out too. It doesn’t really matter, but it’s such a funny wording thing it struck me as so silly"

^Because I don't know if Stonetown is in the US or Canada, so I'm covering my bases.

“He’d lost two perfect and loving parents, he’d always struggled to make friends and connect with other children, and now thanks to Nicholas, he might have lost his chance to go to the college that he wanted” / HOW ARE YOU SO CLOSE BUT ALSO SO VERY OFF THE MARK MY GOOD MAN???? He gets REALLY close to figuring things out, but all of his ridiculous, ingrained mental blocks are making him very blind to some very important facts

^Yeah. Like, no Curtain. Your brother destroying your evil plans isn't the reason your son is having difficulty going to college. YOUR EVIL PLANS are the reason your son is having difficulty going to college.

"“It was a quality Curtain secretly admired, and one that he had never been able to apply to himself, especially considering what he’d just lost” Also so very very excited by this line. It’s utterly gorgeous."

^Had to explain the back handed compliment somehow (and Curtain does mean it as sincere, even if it doesn't come off that way).

"Oh, Garrison. She is so scared, and she’s really desperate to leave, but it’s kind of interesting, because she’s missing so much of who she is since she brainswept herself, it’s kind of like this horribly unhealthy symbiosis with Curtain. Curtain is the only one who remembers the SOS, and therefore who she actually was for so many years, and he’s so forceful that he’s affecting a lot of her decisions. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s kind of railroading her into who he remembers her as (Emphasis on remembers). So I wonder who she’ll be once she actually gets away from Curtain. And whether or not she realizes it, he is a big part of her life, and I feel like having the last remnants of who she was (However twisted they are) stripped away is going to have some kind of effect on her…"

^She is missing a lot of who she is. And she's not the only one. Astute observation...

"The explanation of it being like a backup location for the Institute is genius!! I just assumed Curtain had more money than he knew what to do with and was also paranoid"

^I mean...he is paranoid and he does have more money than he knows what to do with. But the construction would take way more than a year, so I had to come up with something else.

“ “Those are Dr. Curtain’s lemons!” Jackson reminded him, “And you shouldn’t be stealing and throwing other people’s property!” ” Is an incredible line. I adore it so much, and it is something I can definitely see him saying. Like, visually. Astonishing / "AND THEN THE DEWEY LINE. I CAN’T EXPRESS HOW EXCITED I AM BY THIS AND ALSO CONFUSED AND SO VERY VERY AFRAID. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS, AS I’VE TOLD YOU. AND ALSO I FEEL REALLY BAD FOR WHATEVER TEACHERS HAD BOTH OF THEM AS STUDENTS IN THE PAST. AND ALSO THE KIDS. THEY NEED BETTER PARENTS"

^I love giving background characters the more insane plotlines. And I adored writing that line, because it is a very Jackson thing to say.

"THE ALPACA. BODS. YOU HAVE SUCH A FASCINATING RELATIONSHIP WITH THE ALPACA. WHY IS IT SUCH A PLOT POINT????? /j /j /j /j /affectionate /love you"

^Um...because he's the most complex and iconic character in the entire series? The fic is really about him if you think about it. /j /unless...

"Bods… I know I’m always saying that you make me like all these side characters, and talking about how talented you are, and not that you aren’t talented, but… I still really hate Marlon. / You gave him depth!! (As much as you could) And you made him more human!! (But he’s still awful)"

^You still hate him because I hate him. I can make any other character redeemable, but Marlon's interactions with Jackson and Jillson reminded me of some of my former coworkers, so I don't like him.

And thank you for enjoying my psychology rants! 🥰🥰🥰

"Something about Garrison being so upset that Curtain used the Happiness on a child gives me a smidgen of hope"

^Enjoy it while it lasts.

"AND HE FIRED GARRISON. I DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD EVER ACTUALLY DO IT. FEAR / Buuuuuuut he’s still keeping her. IT MAKES ME SO SAD. / They could have been such amazing friends, and now he’s literally keeping her prisoner at his cult against her will, and she’s terrified what he’s going to do D:"

^Yeah...the breakup of their friendship was slower than the others, but wayyyyy more destructive.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. OH NO / Garrison’s using the technique on him :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( :( / And he wants her to, because he’s so alone. He misses her, he misses his friends, he misses his brother. / “Curtain felt it again. That feeling he got whenever people complimented, praised or supported him. The feeling of the world around him getting brighter, calmer, safer. Finally, Garrison was acting like his friend again. She wanted to support him. She wanted to help him. She cared about him. And the more Curtain listened to her voice, the more he wanted to keep hearing it.” / THIS IS BARELY EVEN THE TECHNIQUE. HE JUST IS HORRIBLY HORRIBLY LONELY AND NEEDS A HUG /I can’t even express how sad I am over this. You write pain exquisitely well, and it’s such a burst of colours and emotions and sensations in my head. It’s like a gorgeous painting, and there’s this tinge of incredibly textured melancholy in each and every scene. A whole collage of memories and feelings that is truly magnificent. I know I’m rambling like a crazy person, but these are the only words I’ve got right now to tell you how much I’m enjoying your writing"

^I just kept all of this because I loved writing about the parallel attempts of them trying to use the happiness on each other and failing (like I said, more similar than they realize). And yeah... the Isaac thing really does make Curtain upset, because he realizes she betrayed him too. So he's hurt and angry all over again. And it gets worse each time it happens.

"SQ. Buddy. Buddy boy. Fandom’s child. You need some help. / He keeps wanting things to be “normal”, but he doesn’t even know what that means. He’s been living a fabricated “normal” his whole life"

^He really does need some help. The poor boy. But don't worry. I sense some help might be (slowly but surely) on the way...

"HE HASN’T THROWN YOU OUT BECAUSE HE’S A DELUSIONAL MANIAC BUT HE STILL LOVES YOU AND VALUES YOU AS A FRIEND / AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH / SHE’S SO SMART / I LOVE HER SO MUCH. SERIOUSLY SHE’S BECOME SUCH AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER TO ME BECAUSE OF THIS. I KNOW IT’S PROBABLY GOING TO HURT HER IN THE END BUT I AM ALSO ROOTING FOR HER. I’M SO CONFLICTED RIGHT NOW / Oh, oh, I want her to be happy so bad. SO BAD."

^I am forever so excited and pleased that so many people like Garrison because of my fic. Wasted potential in the show. Also her reaction to Curtain trying this on her is less angry than Curtain's, because she views him as an enemy not a friend, which did make me a little sad.

"Somehow you can so perfectly hit on the “wet cat” way the Show writes Mr. Benedict as well as his more triumphant, masterful moments."

^The poor nervous absent minded man. He's brilliant, kind, and wonderful, but oh... oh does he need therapy. And Rhonda and Number Two.

"Can’t articulate how much I love your work"

^I think you did a pretty good job... you did make a whole google doc (I love you so much for that)

"The ending of “Who?” / AHHHHHHHHH / Because they don’t KNOW who Garrison is!!!!!! /The dramatic irony!!!!! THE PAIN!!!! THE AGONY!!!!!!"

^I loved writing that. Especially because a lot of the character's don't interact with her and then in the root cellar they are like "hello Garrison", like...the show could have done more with that! (Or maybe not, because they couldn't get the actress back for long, which makes me sad).

"I swear, my notes are getting less and less coherent every time. This is a teensy bit rushed because I won’t let myself read the next chapter until I get this out, but please know!!! Even if it’s not up to par with my previous notes it’s not because I don’t like it!!!! It’s because I like it so much I’m really bad at actually saying it. To paraphrase Jane Austen, If I loved your work less, I might be able to talk about it more :) "

^This was perfect Sophie. I love your reactions, and thank you for enjoying my fic!

@nobody33333333 You've forced my hand

My S.O.S. notes have become too much for Tumblr to handle, so until I figure out a better system, I shall be sharing them like THIS (Chapters 16 & 17)

I don't know if anyone else cares to see my unhinged gibberish, but if you do, there it is :)

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

[elles-archives]

Ransom Drysdale x Wife!Reader

In for a Penny Part: Eight

Word Count: 1322

Series Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Spoilers for Knives Out, Talks of pregnancy, Murder, Swearing, Potentially dark themes (but not really), Death, Nausea, Anxiety. (I may add more as the series progresses)

Part Warnings: Talks of being sick, Murder confessions, Language.

Series Summary: When Harlan Thrombey is found dead, the last person you would think is responsible is. The only problem is how far do you go to protect the ones you love the most.

(A/N: I just want to say thank you for all the love this series has gotten. Feel free to comment any constructive criticism as well (Just don't be too mean please.) - Ellen  )

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the Taglist

Ransom decided to mess with Marta. After buying her a full plate of beans and sausages, he announced that he wanted her to tell him what happened to Harlan. He knew that there was no way she couldn’t live without him knowing. He secured that by filling her up on greasy food first.

As she was eating, I sat in silence allowing Ransom to ask and say what he needed to.

“So why?”

“Why?” Marta looked at him confused as she continued to eat.

“Why?” Ransom repeated. “Hey, this is everything. There’s gotta be a bigger reason why and you know it.”

“Well, how about it had more to do with you guys than with me.” Ransom hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Did he tell you anything?” Marta asked. Not breaking eye contact with Ransom.

“Only that I wasn’t getting a cent.”

“That’s because he wanted you to build something from the ground up.” Marta said.

“Build something from the ground up?” Ransom raised his voice slightly. “Yeah my mother built her business from the ground up with a million-dollar loan from my grandfather. My father owns none of it, she made him sign a prenup. He lives in fear. And I know that’s what my grandfather was trying to protect me from by doing this and I know I shouldn’t day this out loud but when he told me I…” Ransom paused and shook his head slightly. I placed my hand on his thigh to comfort him, sensing he was becoming upset. “I coulda killed him.”

I sighed. I felt really bad. This whole situation was really fucked up and for once I didn’t know how to fix it. “When we left the party and drove home, I was thinking everything through. I felt this clarity, lying in bed next to Y/N/N. That here on out I was going to have to provide for us two by myself… and that felt good.”

I gently smiled at him when he removed my hand off of his thigh and held onto it with a tight grasp.

“Marta, I know three things.” Ransom continued. “One, I know he didn’t commit suicide.” Marta looked at him nervously.

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t think it, I know it.” He squeezed my hand again under the table. “Because I knew my granddad. Maybe you and I were the two who knew him so you’re not gonna bullshit me on this because two I know lying makes you puke.” Marta gave him a blank look. “That mafia game last 4th of July.

“And three I know you just ate a full plate of baked beans and sausage.” Ransom’s Boston accent was sticking out and despite the seriousness of the situation, I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to pounce on him there and then. Ransom moved the plate away from Marta as a look shock on her face. “So, look me in the eye and tell me what happened to my grandfather.”

“You asshole.” Was all Marta said in response.

“Marta, tell me everything.” Ransom didn’t give up.

Marta looked at me. “Did you tell him?”

“Listen, just tell him the truth. You know as well as I do that he deserves at least that. I can promise that nothing will happen to you Marta, but you have to tell him.” I couldn’t miss the look of betrayal in Marta’s face, and it was enough to almost make me feel bad. Until Ransom squeezed my hand again and I knew that I was doing the right thing.

It was hard to hear it all again. Here exactly what happened that night and I could see Ransom deep in thought the entire time. He didn’t once let go of my hand and he kept his gaze on the table.

The only thing Ransom said was about how he thought that he was the only one who could beat Harlan at GO. I wasn’t sure how that was relevant but decided against saying anything, after all, hearing about Harlan’s death was a lot for anyone, especially him.

“I'm not telling the family shit. You're not going to jail. That detective is not going to catch you. And you're not giving up the family fortune.” Ransom paused for a beat, glancing at me before continuing. “Think about what Granddad did to see this through, this was what he wanted not just for you but for his family, and for him. And yes, for you. You've come this far. Let me help you go all the way.”

“This isn't you. You could turn me in right now and get your cut of the inheritance. Why?”

“Because fuck my family. They don't deserve any of this. I can help you and we can fool them all and get away with it... and then you will give me my cut of the inheritance. The perfect ending, we all win. You, me, Y/N and Harlan. Deal?”

Before Marta could reply her phone rang. I saw that it was Meg. I took one look at Ransom, and he silently told me that he knew the family were about to manipulate Marta. It didn’t take much for Marta to promise to put Meg through school. I internally groaned. If they knew Marta would support their ‘needs’ then they would take her for everything.

When Meg hung up on Marta, I saw her confused look. She stared straight at Ransom almost begging him to help her. So, he did. He asked her the same questions that I did, making sure she wouldn’t get caught.

Eventually, Ransom went to drop Marta off and I went home. When I got in I went straight to bed. It had been a long day and I just wanted to settle down and go to sleep. Before I drifted off though I heard Ransom come home. He walked upstairs and I sat up in bed to wait for him. He appeared at the door but didn’t say anything as he made his way over to me. He leaned down and gave me a kiss before leaving the bedroom again to get ready for bed.

“I have a confession Y/N/N. A confession which you will hate me for.” Ransom muttered as he stood in the bathroom door.

“What are you on about Ransom, I could never hate you, you know that.” I asked him, slightly confused.

“Oh, for this you probably will.” Ransom sighed. I looked at him, I could tell he was extremely nervous.

“Come here, sit down and take a breath.” I told him. He slowly made his way over to me and sat down. I sat behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders before slowly moving round to his side. Eventually, he laid down and held onto me tightly.

“You know how I told you I hired Blanc?”

I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

“It’s all my fault. I swapped the drugs and took away the naloxone.” I tensed in his arms but that made him grip me tighter.

“Why Ransom?”

“He was giving everything to her. I am his Grandson. My mother is his daughter. We may all be pricks and entitled shits, but we are his family.”

“Omg, Ransom.” I tried to get away from him.

“I was sent a note. I thought it would be proof of Marta’s guilt but turns out she switched the meds around again. That tox report would prove that Harlan killed himself and someone knows it was me in the first place. I can’t let that happen.” I froze in shock.

“No one can ever know Y/N/N. I have to deal with this. And know you know, it’s your choice if you help me or not.” Ransom wouldn’t let me out of his grip and for the first time in our relationship, I was scared of him.

Taglist: (Crossed out won't tag.)

@bval-1

@dietmountainhoneydew

@cevansgurl

@ttae-yong

@princess-baby18

@ccmarvelxx

@tenaciousperfectionunkown

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@mechixx

@booklover2622

@lesbians4levinson2021

[thefanficmonster]

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it. 

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went? 

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him. 

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

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[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[dumbass-extraordinaire]

Duck, Duck, Grief

The newly reopened wound on Aubrey’s thigh throbs dully as she limps away from the base of the ruined Mt. Kepler and back towards the gate.  She hears a voice in the back of her mind, the sensible one that sounds a lot like Duck, telling her that walking on an injured leg is a bad idea and that she’s only gonna make it worse.  A louder, more vicious voice tells her she deserves it.  This one doesn’t sound like Duck.  She ignores them both and keeps walking.  The night air is cold, numbing her exposed arms and face.  Aubrey is grateful for it.  Having a body feels like an impossible task right now.  Thinking is out of the question, because thinking means acknowledging everything that just happened- 

(gone all gone all gone he’s gone he’s gone it’s all your fault why couldn’t you heal him useless you didn’t even try you told him to leave he was supposed to leave now he’s gone it’s your fault)

-and she wasn’t ready.  Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her ears were buzzing and it was too cold and she couldn’t breathe-

(he’s on the ground his eyes are open he doesn’t see you he isn’t breathing why isn’t he breathing his hands are cold he is never cold he is always warm warm warm warm smile warm laugh cold)

“Miss, are you okay?  Can you hear me?”

There is a voice above her-

(it is not his voice you will never hear his voice again your fault all your fault dead dead dead)

-the voice continues, but it is not talking to her anymore.

“I think she’s in shock-- Oh god, she’s bleeding, oh that’s real bad, aw jeez,” warm hands grip her arms and lift her to her feet.  She doesn’t remember falling to her knees.  That explains why her leg feels like it’s on fire-

(burning burning the house is on fire there is a man in a mask her dad is on the ground burning)

  She is vaguely aware of being half-carried over to an ambulance.  They sit her down, telling her to put pressure on the wound, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.  She does this without comment, cannot open her mouth for fear that the words will come tumbling out and never ever stop.  She does not move.

…

Duck and Minerva had just finished taking down the abomination and were making their way over to Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake when they saw the top of Mt. Kepler lift into the air, then came crashing back down, shaking the earth and causing the telescope to creak and sway a little, which in all honesty was really terrifying.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Duck yelped as the ground shook with the aftershocks of the mountain’s collapse.  He lost his balance but Minerva grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall over. 

“Duck Newton You Should Be Careful!  Core Strength Is An Integral Part Of Any Hero’s Skill Set!” She exclaimed cheerfully, clapping a hand onto his shoulder with almost as much force as the mountain’s collapse.

“Thanks Minnie,” he wheezed, rubbing his sore shoulder.  Sarah ran up to them, her eyes wide with shock.

“What the hell just happened to the mountain?” she asked, her face pale with fear.

Duck scratched his head.  “Honestly, Sarah?  I got no earthly idea, but we should probably go find out,” he sighed.  “C’mon, we got a ways to go.”

The group of four made their way across the field towards the parking lot, Minerva still giving Leo a piggyback ride on account of his injuries.  When they reached the front gate, Sarah paused and turned to Duck.  She looked as exhausted as he felt.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, “As fun as this has been, I think I’ve just about maxed out my daily limit for weird.  If it’s all the same to y’all, I think I’m gonna head on home.”  She points to him, “Don’t think this means I’m gonna let you off the hook about this, mister.  I expect an explanation.”

He salutes her playfully, “Yes, Ma’am.  I’ll have that report on your desk by Monday.”

She smiles and says, “See ya around, Newton,” before turning and walking into the night.

Duck, Minerva, and Leo do the same, making their way to Duck’s government-issued truck.  He chucks the extra broadsword into the truck bed, slings Beacon back around his waist, and slides behind the wheel exhaustedly.  A part of him waits for Aubrey to call shotgun before remembering with a start that she isn’t with them.  He’s so used to having her and Ned as back up in life threatening situations that their absence right now is disconcerting.  He’s more than a little anxious to see them again; they’d all been so busy with their own situations the past few days that they hadn’t had much of a chance to hang out.

“What A Fine Chariot This Is, Duck Newton,” Minerva booms jovially, slapping the roof of his truck.  There is the distinct sound of crumpling metal.

Duck squints blearily at her as she squeezes into the passenger seat, mentally cycling through the five stages of grief as Minerva buckles her seatbelt.  He turns the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot.

… 

The closer they get to Amnesty Lodge, the more nervous Duck gets.  Not for the first time since the whole Sylvain mess started, he resents Kepler’s location in the Radio Quiet Zone.  Usually he didn’t mind not having a cellphone, but right now he would give just about anything to call Aubrey and Ned and make sure they’re okay.  The herd of ambulances and police cars heading towards the Lodge do nothing to quell Duck’s mounting anxiety levels.

His anxiety turns to dread as he turns onto the dirt road leading to the lodge and sees the crowd of townsfolk gathered in front of the gate, an ambulance parked off to the side.  He jerks the truck to a stop and jumps out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition as he scans wildly for his friends.  Minerva moves to follow him, but he stops her, telling her to watch out for Leo.  Things are complicated enough without throwing an honest-to-fucking-god alien warrior into the mix.

When he finally does see Aubrey’s colorful shock of dyed hair, it is both a relief and an extra source of stress.  A relief because she’s alive, and a source of stress because she’s sitting in the ambulance.

Duck rushes over to her, his heart dropping into his stomach as a list of every worst case scenario runs through his head.  Someone found out about the lodge, someone went through the gate who wasn’t supposed to and went on a rampage, Agent Stern arrested someone, someone got hurt, someone got killed.  At least Aubrey is okay.  And while he doesn’t see Ned anywhere, Duck isn’t too worried about the old guy.  He’d survived ramming into a Pizza Hut sign with a jetpack, as well as the explosion of said jetpack immediately afterwards.  The man was damn near unkillable.  He skids to a stop in front of Aubrey, his momentum almost causing him to crash into the side of the ambulance.  He takes her in, noting the bandage on her leg and the shock blanket around her shoulders.

“Y’okay, kid?”  He asks, “Aubrey?”  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him or even seem to register his presence.  

That’s his first clue that something’s wrong, because he’s seen her like this before, after the whole ordeal with the Pizza Hut sign.  The hollow, haunted expression on her face is nearly identical to the one she’d worn that day.  It scared him then and it scares him now.

“Aubrey,” he repeats her name.  “C’mon kid, ya gotta talk to me.  I just got here, I’m way outta the loop.”  Nothing.  She just keeps staring blankly ahead.  He crouches down in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.  Again, nothing.  Shit.

He stands back up and starts pacing, raking his hands through his hair, “Aubrey!”  He snaps.  The longer she stays unresponsive, the more nervous he gets, “I need you to say something, kid, you’re fuckin’ scaring me!”  Try as he might, he can’t quite keep the panic from bleeding into his voice.

Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and his heart breaks.

Aubrey looks absolutely wrecked.  Her eyes are bloodshot and ringed black with smeared mascara and eyeliner, her face blotchy and tearstained.  Disconcertingly, both her irises are a bright, piercing orange.  Duck figures this is something important, something he should ask her about right away.  He doesn’t, though, because he couldn’t care less about whatever earth-shattering event made Aubrey’s eyes change color.  He doesn’t care about all that world-saving, chosen one stuff, and he never has.  He cares about people, his people, and right now that’s Aubrey and Ned.  They’re the Pineguard, his family, and he would rather die than see them hurt.

“D-Duck,” Aubrey whimpers, her voice fragile like his ma’s best china.  “Duck, I couldn’t…h-he…”  She shatters, then, curling in on herself as she sobs.

“Hey now, uh,” Duck has never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying.  But this is Aubrey and she needs him, social anxiety be damned.

He sits down next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance, shifting so that he’s almost facing her, and puts his arms out, “Do you-- Ooph!”  Before he can finish his question, Aubrey collapses against him, sobbing into his shoulder.  Duck freezes for a moment, unsure, before wrapping his arms around her.

“I-It’s all,” she hiccups, “it’s all m-my fault, Duck, I-I couldn’t…”  She dissolves into sobs again, too distressed to continue.  Her shoulders shake with the force of it.

Duck pats her back awkwardly.  “Aw, Aubrey, I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says, “I don’t think-- don’t blame yourself, kid.  I’m sure you did everything you could.”  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she starts crying even harder.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs her tighter instead.  He hates himself a little for that, wishes to god that the words didn't stick in the back of his throat like old gum on the underside of a picnic bench.  Aubrey hiccups, and Duck rubs her shoulders soothingly.  He’s never seen her like this before, never seen her this broken.  Sure he’s seen her cry, seen her upset, but never like this.  Something is very, very wrong, and Aubrey’s clearly in no shape to tell him what, so he scans the crowd for someone who can.

Finally, he makes eye contact with Jake Coolice.  Which, okay, not exactly ideal, except for the fact that he’s standing next to Mama, who’s engaged in conversation with Detective Maygen.  Duck jerks his head towards the matriarch of Amnesty Lodge, hoping Jake picks up what he’s putting down.  The neon-cloaked Sylph looks confused, and he points at Mama and mouths her name in a silent question.  Duck nods emphatically.  Jake smiles and gives him two thumbs up before tugging on the sleeve of Mama’s duster to get her attention.  The older woman turns to Jake, who points in Duck’s direction.  She squares her shoulders, like she’s preparing for battle, and makes her over to the ambulance.  

The first thing Duck notices is how tired she looks.  The second is the blood on her shirt and hands.  

His blood turns to ice in his veins, “What the fuck happened?” he demands, “Are y’okay?”

Mama sighs, her whole body moving with it, “It’s not mine,” is all she says, and her shoulders slump in something a bit too much like defeat for Duck’s taste.

“Whaddya mean, whose is it then?” he asks, panic setting in.

She exhales softly through her nose.  “Duck, honey, I’m real sorry,” she begins, “now I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, ‘cause it ain’t no one’s fault.”  Mama pauses, looking up at the night sky before running a hand down her face.  There is dried blood under her fingernails.

“Whaddya mean, Mama, what happened?  What don’t ya want me blaming myself for?”

She looks pained, “Duck, sweetheart--.”

“No!  Don’t baby me, I aint a fuckin’ kid,” he snaps.  “What. The. Hell. Happened.”

“I-it was Ned.”  The response comes not from Mama, but Aubrey.  She pulls aways from Duck, exhaling shakily and wiping her eyes.

Duck stares at her.  “Whaddya mean, did he get hurt or somethin’?” he asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question and hoping to god that he’s wrong, “Aubrey?”

She shakes her head.  “No, uh,” she takes a shaky breath, “Shit, I can’t do this.  Mama, uh, can you explain, please?”  Her voice trembles as she gives the older woman a pleading look.

Mama gives her a sad smile, “Sure, baby.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey sniffles.  Duck puts an arm around her and she buries her face in his shoulder.

Mama takes a deep breath, “Duck, ya said ya didn’t wanna be babied, so I guess I better just say it outright.  Ned ain't hurt, honey.  I’m so, so sorry, Duck, but he’s dead.  Ned’s dead.”

The words hit him like a punch in the gut, leaving him breathless and gasping.  

That can’t be right, Ned can’t be dead.  Ned ‘Cowardly’ Chicane, the only one of them with any sort of self-preservation instinct, the guy who just the other day had assured Duck that he didn’t need to worry about him getting hurt because he quote-unquote, “knew when to get the hell outta Dodge” was dead?  No way.  This had to be to work of the shapeshifter, or some sick practical joke.  It couldn’t be true, because if it was, it would mean Duck had failed.  It would mean that something happened and he hadn’t been there to take the big hit.  It would mean that Ned had taken the hit instead.  And he can’t handle that.  What’s the point of being the “Chosen One”, the so-called savior of the planet if he can’t keep the people he cares about safe?  

“Duck?”  Mama’s voice cuts through the haze of grief and shock clouding his brain.  He doesn’t respond, “You with us?”

He wants to argue, wants to break down and scream at the injustice of it all.  But he doesn’t, because he’s not the only one grieving Ned’s-- he’s not the only one affected.  Aubrey’s here too, huddled against his side like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.  God, she’s so young, still just a kid, really.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, truth be told, but that’s not in the cards.  The least Duck can do is be strong for her.  He’s good at being strong.  So he pushes aside all his grief and anger and self-recrimination, packing them away in a cardboard box in some dusty corner of his mind to deal with later.  Aubrey comes first.

He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Mama, I’m with ya.”  He runs a tired hand down his face, “What, uh, what happened?”  His voice trembles right at the end.  He clenches his jaw.  

Mama glances ever so slightly at Aubrey.  “I’m fine,” is all the young woman says.  Mama looks to the night sky, as if hoping the stars can tell her how to make this easier.  Whatever she was looking for, it isn’t there and she faces Duck once more.

She does that thing again, squaring her shoulders like she’s getting ready for a fight, “The Abomination, it took Ned’s shape an’ then spilled the beans about everything on television.  The lodge, the gate, Sylvain, all of it.  That’s why all these folks are here,” she gestures to the crowd of townspeople.  

“Ned, he killed it and came down here to try and divert ‘em, send ‘em on a wild goose chase.  It sorta worked, actually, he got rid of about half of ‘em.  He starts talkin’ folks down, tryin’ to get the rest of them to see sense,” she laughs bitterly, “And it mighta even worked, too, ‘cept then the glowing coffin shows up and out pops Dani.  And she’s all feral, completely outta her mind after being separated from the hot springs for so long.”  

Her mouth presses into a thin line.  “And then she, well… She charged these here folks, and Ned, he tackles her.  Thing is, you get a buncha scared folks with guns in one place, well, someone’s bound to get hurt.  And tonight, that was Ned.  He got shot, and by the time the ambulance got here it was too late.  There wasn’t nothing any of us could do,” she looks over at Aubrey when she says that.  “And that’s… that’s the whole story.  I’m sorry,” she gives him a sympathetic look, “Y’alright, Duck?”

Duck says nothing, just nods sharply.  Because how do you respond to something like that?  What do you say when someone’s been ripped from your life and you can’t remember the last thing you said to them?  What do you say?  What can you say that would be enough to encompass the raw, gaping wound that takes the place of your heart, the way your stomach drops, when you think of all the things left unsaid?  What do you say?

As it turns out, “Let’s go home,” is a pretty good start.

[mischiefmanaged71]

Turning Tables (3/8) - Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Joaquin work together to track down the Flag Smashers, but yet again, she is the middle woman between Bucky and Sam as they butt heads. 

Author’s Note: Continuation of the story into Episode Two of TFATWS. Love the banter between Sam and Bucky, especially when Walker turns up and they team up to direct all of their anger at him. Joaquin is my man, my soft boi. I need more of him in the next two episodes, otherwise, I’m going to be a wreck for a while. Let me know in the comments if you’d like to be tagged! There will definitely be two more parts…who knows, maybe I’ll add more or individual one-shots!

Warnings: anxiety, the smallest drop of fluff

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem! Reader

You leaned back in your chair, feet crossed in front as Joaquin read through documents at his desk. Following up on leads was the top priority right now with the rise in communications of the revolutionaries’ known as the Flag Smashers. 

Word Count: 2.4K

Joaquin stood by his word and incorporated Sam and Y/N in the investigation. They had been at the Airbase for a total of 3 hours and 49 minutes, reading through documents and following up leads using the database resources. 

You rest your hands on your stomach as you shut your eyes for a moment. The bags under your eyes had become more noticeable in the past couple days, what with sleepless nights and long hours. All of which led you to grow closer to the coffee machine in your small apartment.

The nightmares had grown worse in the past week, haunting more than the occasional dream. Sometimes it was just the darkness that irked you, which you’d usually resolve with a bit of light. More recently, they formed into horrific events where you couldn’t save Sam or Bucky. The worst instance was last night’s terror.

This time, Joaquin showed up instead. 

Instead of the usual guilt that strung you up, an aching sorrow and horror overwhelmed you as you lost control. 

The fire was everywhere.

It burned until nothing was left.

Until the last edge of life was gone.

Even as you grasped for the tip of control to stop it, the flames extended further and further.

You couldn’t stop them,

And that terrified you.

It had its grip on your throat, ever-so-slowly compressing your windpipe as you clawed for the surface.

“Y/N?”

You inhaled sharply, opening your eyes to Joaquin’s concerned gaze as he leaned across the desk.

“You alright? You dozed off there.”

You nodded your head, slacking your jaw to recognise your feet touching the ground, the cabinets along the walls and lastly, the man sitting behind the desk.

His concerned gaze is glued to your widened eyes which scan the room, almost as if you weren’t completely aware.

“Yeah...I haven’t been getting much sleep is all.”

Joaquin nodded, returning to the words on the document,

“I’ve noticed. You’ve been a bit jittery the past couple days.”

“And...that’ll be the caffeine.”, you trailed, as you stood and stretched your limbs out.

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

Joaquin glanced up from the desk, shaking his head as a smirk grew on his face. The bruise under his left eye had slowly been healing from the past mission, along with a large cut along his forehead.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Oh really? Then what’s the face for?”

“What face?”, he laughed and stared at you incredulously.

You leaned your hands against the back of the chair as pointed at him,

“That face that says I’m judging you.”

“This is not a judgemental face. This is the face of someone who is concerned about you.”

You’re quiet, allowing Joaquin to continue as you grip the back of the chair. Averting your eyes to the floor, your stomach plummets. Thumps palpate in your chest as your blood seems to pump harder.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You gulped down your anxiety, making eye contact with Joaquin so as to convince him and yourself as you spoke.

“...Yeah. I’m fine.”, you nodded your head and smile with the lack of enthusiasm that brings his attention to it. Joaquin cocks his head to the side, trying to see deeper into your mind.

“Y/N-”

The door bursts open as another uniformed soldier leans in the doorway.

“Lieutenant, I’ve got an update waiting for you, Sir.”

Joaquin stood from his seat, nodding his head at the officer.

“Alright, thanks, you can hand it over.”

The soldier nods his head, leaving the folder on the desk before shutting the door. You huff out a sigh at the tension and silence filling the office. Joaquin gathered up the remaining papers on the desk into neat piles, tidying the space.

“Look, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m electing not to sleep and I’m getting more work done.”

“You can’t live like this, Y/N, you’re gonna run yourself into the ground.”

“Yeah well right now, I’d rather not face those fears. Got bigger fish to fry right now.”, you purse your lips and nodded towards the folder.

You exit the office, wandering the first level of the base offices. Your arms press against the railing as you drop your head and listen to the bustling of people and machinery echo across the base. Slumped over the railing, you concentrate on counting your breaths as you hear Joaquin’s feet stomp closer to you.

Joaquin leans next to you on the border as you refuse to move, knowing that your façade of calm will chip as soon as you look at him.

“Y/N, if somethings bothering you, you should tell me. I know you feel that keeping it to yourself is better than admitting it but trust me, it’s a lot worse.”, he leaned down to meet your gaze as a stoic blank expression overcame you.

Your throat tightens and clench your jaw to suppress the sob building in your chest. 

You’ve always been alone with your thoughts, threatening to crack under the constant pressure behind your skull. The Avengers had been an unconventional setting but you created close relationships with a few of them. Some you lost along the way because of uncontrollable things but you wonder. 

You wonder if maybe something was wrong with you.

If it was your fault why they always left.

Why no one stuck around for long.

Tears glimmer, threatening to fall but you exhale a long breath out, turning to him. You twiddle your fingers, jaw clenched as you choke out the words in a whisper.

“...okay.”

Joaquin’s posture straightened as you stepped away from the railing and nodded your head in agreement.

“I’ll try. For you, Flyboy.”

He hummed and a small smile grew on his face at the nickname. 

“That’s all I ask.”

Looking over his shoulder, you recognise a familiar face. 

“Hey, Wilson.” you called over Joaquin’s shoulder, causing Sam’s eyes to flicker between the two of you.

“Hey, Y/L/N. I see you guys are spending extra time together…”, Sam implied with a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam’s implications, nudging his arm.

“It’s about time he kept me in the loop.”

He recognises the dark circles under your eyes and how tired you look but elects to ignore it. 

“You alright?”, Sam asks.

You look up at Joaquin as his lips twitch upwards in a small encouraging smile. His hand slides across the railing, hovering next to yours as you reply.

“I’m right where I need to be.”

You trail off as you notice Sam’s stiff posture and tension as he glides his hands into his pockets.

“How are you?”

After the huge declaration of America’s new ‘Captain America’, you were infuriated with the SHAM. Walker had done nothing to deserve that shield. 

It was Sam that Steve chose. 

It was Sam that deserved the shield.

You can only imagine how upset he is feeling. 

Sam almost shrugs, tilting his head as he doesn’t know how to express all of his feelings about the situation.

You all glance towards a screen as a poster of John Walker holding up Steve’s shield is shown.

“Seems like a good guy. You met him?”, Joaquin asks.

“No.”, Sam replied.

“Thanks for doing this on such short notice.”

“Yeah. No sweat. I’m just finishing up the checklist. You’ll be all good to go once you land in Munich.”

“I’ll be in the air with Joaquin so you can keep us updated…”

You trail off because your attention phases to Bucky Barnes’ entrance. With the fury in his step, you can practically visualise the daggers Bucky is sending towards Sam as you descend the stairs.

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”, Bucky interjects.

Bucky follows Sam, cutting him off to interrogate. 

“Hey, hey, look, I’m working, all right? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait.”

Bucky narrows his eyes,

“You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Sam is aghast, “No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen. You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?”

“Steve didn’t want this.”

“Oh, my God. What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ’em I changed my mind? Huh?”

Joaquin rests a hand on your shoulder, bringing your attention back to him,

“I’m gonna go ahead and set up before we leave.”

You nod, acknowledging him, gripping his hand,

“I’ll be right there.”, sending him a reassuring smile.

You watch as Sam and Bucky tussle in an argument over the shield and then the mission.

You find yourself striding up to them as Sam stomps off alone towards the plane.

“Hey stranger.”

Bucky turns around and his eyes light up in recognition. He flicks over your tired eyes and sombre expression.

“Sam didn’t know this would happen.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have given it up in the first place. It doesn’t belong there.”

“Bucky… I know how much that shield means to you... But you have to understand that Sam did what he thought was the right thing. We have to accept that. It’s what Steve wanted.”

“This is not what Steve would have wanted, Y/N.”

Bucky is fuming at the thought of the man parading as Captain America.

“I know, I know, Bucky. But we gotta work together to solve this one.”

“Just like always.”

He hummed, looking at the plane.

“Fine, but it doesn’t change the fact I’m mad at him.”

You sigh but agree because you know your boys are stubborn.

*****

You sit up on a crate as the plane flies below the drop-off zone for Sam and Bucky. You were sitting this one out to surveil with Joaquin from above.

“One minute to drop off, Sam.”

You watch Joaquin as he assesses the distance below and the time on his watch. The cuts and scrapes on his face have mostly healed but the blue and purple bruising under his eye remains. 

“So what’s our plan?”, Bucky asks Sam who ignores him as he positions his com in his ear.

“Great. So no plan.”

Bucky shakes his head in annoyance, sitting back down in his seat.

“Thirty seconds!”, Joaquin yells, looking out into the open air.

“I’m reconsidering sending those two out there alone.”

You glance anxiously between Sam and Bucky as the tension in the plane stirs.

“But they’re not alone, because they’re going together.”, Joaquin points out.

“That’s the part I’m worried about.”

You smile unconvincingly at Joaquin as you listen to the men bicker.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck.”

Bucky rejects Sam’s use of the nickname,

“No, you can’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s what Steve called you.”

You roll your eyes at the childish banter between the two. You were considering the amount of logic and coordination between the two of them but then again, you were too tired to get on board for this mission.

“Steve knew me longer, and Steve had a plan.”

“Why couldn’t Steve be here?”, you whisper sarcastically.

“Fifteen seconds to drop.”

“I have a plan.”, Sam defends.

“Really? What is it?”

Sam ignores Bucky, jumping from the plane. Joaquin peeks his head out in amusement as Sam ignites his suit and flies off. He still wears that look of amaze on his face since the first time he saw the suit.

“Great. Where’s the chute?”, Bucky asked, looking around.

“We’re at 200 feet. It’s too low for a chute.”

“I don’t need it anyway.”

Joaquin perked an eyebrow, glancing at Bucky from the side, 

“You sure about that?”

“No! I know that look Bucky and I swear-”

“Yeah.”, Bucky sighs, yelling as he drops from the plane.

You and Joaquin both stare out into the open air as Bucky plummets into a tree, slowing his descent.

“What. An. Idiot.”, you exclaim from beside Joaquin.

“That looks like it hurts too.”

Pulling your sleeves down, you shiver and pull back from the open door to return to your seat. 

“He’ll be fine. I think.”

Joaquin slides the door shut as its seals with a hiss. 

You retract back into yourself as your thoughts return in the quiet.

Luckily, Joaquin is there to push them back.

“Hey, join me upstairs? I’ve gotta track activities for Sam from up here.”, he waits for your answer.

“Sure.”

He steps aside to let you walk up the steps first, sliding behind you as you reach the second floor. His hand ghosts over you back, guiding you across to the computers.

You flirt around the screens, leaning your hands against the metal frame. Joaquin’s hand roams around different radars and dials as he reads them. You watch from your spot as he concentrates, although, his eyes float up to check on you, every so often. You’ll pretend not to notice the suppressed smirk that threatens to rise on his face at your stare. 

You push that brewing anxiety aside but not without strain. Not without a little help from that pure and inviting calm that Joaquin brings.

***

TAGS:

@asoftie4bucky @remmysbounty @cjsinkythoughts @bubblegum28universe  @farfromjustordinary  @hocusbowie @alainabooks143 @marvelnerd18 @samscaptain @alexlynn16 @dontstahpmemeow @plllover86 @petewentzfrommcr80  @literallyjustfanfiction @captainbarness @parkjammys @the-and-sign-anon @nialeesato 

[liighty]

Guzma babysitting Reader’s Niece

(A/N): BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AGAIN! BUT THIS TIME IT’S NOT ALL THAT SELF-INDULGENT AND MIGHT POSSIBLY BE TURNED INTO A SUPER FIC IF I FEEL LIKE IT

In all honesty i’ve thought about making another largeass super self-indulgent Guzma x Reader mega fic, but I’m not sure if I want to? I don’t know if anybody would read it, so that’s what this post is for!!! If you like this and want to see actual Guzma x Reader with plot and not just fluff drabbles lmk!! I have a bunch of asks to address so maybe i’ll get to that too soon

Anyways, back to the fic.

Mini Summary: (Y/N)’s niece needs to be babysat while (Y/N) is interviewed, so they turn to Guzma and crew to help out for a bit. Chaos ensues.

Rating/Triggers: UH drugs are mentioned but not really? THE KID DOES NOT DO DRUGS!!!! but yeah if that makes you uncomfy i’d be careful with it??\

Pairing: Guzma/Gender Neutral!Reader (I used the honorific ‘Titi’ which is gender neutral for ‘Tia’ or ‘Tio’ [extra thanks to Ocha_Bocha for helping me with that one <3] and tried to make it as gender neutral as possible. Originally this was written with a male reader, and then I went female, and ultimately attempted to eliminate gender completely. [Following the footsteps of Splatoon teehee])

Fic under cut!!!!!

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?" You clutch your niece's hand as you approach the large walls that separate Po Town from the rest of Ula'Ula Island. It's not that you don't trust the man who you're leaving her with- in fact, those two have been acquainted previously and seem to get along fairly well- It's his friends who you're concerned about.

"..." Her silence is expected, as the kid isn't all that talkative. Recognizing the young girl's silence, you frown. 

"You can stay in the office lounge if you really want to. I know you aren't the biggest fan of crowds, and um- Guz has some pretty loud friends-" Your explanation of what to be expected is quickly interrupted by a blue haired young man decked in black and white clothing. "Yo yo, what's with the kid?!" 

You arch a brow. You knew that Guzma worked with kids, but this guy couldn't be any older than 15! "I could say the same for you. I'm here to talk to Guzma-"

"Ya mean the boss? Why would some random chick want anything ta do with the leader of the Team Skull, huh?!"

A pink haired girl dressed in the same outfit walks up to the boy, crossing her arms. "Shut it, ya clod. Don't you remember the conversation we had with Boss yesterday?"

Hearing this, the blue haired boy's eyes light up in an epiphany. "Ohhhhh shit- Right-"

"Watch yer fuckin' language around the kiddo." She lightly smacks the back of Dansei's head. "She's in good hands, ma'am."

Another pink haired woman, this one being someone you finally recognize, walks in and smacks both of the delinquents in the head once more. "You say that after cussing, Reese?" 

Thank God. Plumeria. "Hey Plumes-" You smile weakly, waving politely with your free hand. Your niece does the same. Another young man, this one much shorter than the first and with green curly hair scrambles after Plumeria, jumping up and down to be seen. "Sorry about these numskulls. I'll lead y'all to the big boss man, yo. No worries at all, so you can chillax!"

I'm regretting this more and more by the second.

The crew starts whistling some hip hop tune as they make their way to the Shady House, the smaller boy beatboxing. You've taken this time to offer a piggyback ride to your niece, who's politely declined. Are all kids like this? Or is it just her?

Once they approach the boss, Guzma immediately jumps out of his chair, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Eyyyyyy! (Y/N)!!! Kiddo!! What's up, homeslice?!" He hops down the stairs and crouches so he can get at eye-level with the young girl, offering his fist for a pound-it.

She bumps her fist against his, smiling just a bit. It's more of a reaction than you expected, at least. "S-sup, Uncle Guzma-" 

Looks like his slang is rubbing off on her. That's cute.

"Thanks for droppin' by, Doll. No need to worry about Little Miss Troublemaker over here, I got it all under control." He picks up your niece and walks over to you, pressing a looooooooongass smooch on your cheek. The other Team Skull members all make mini comments, like "Ewwww-", "Grosss-", and "Cooties-", causing Plumeria to once again smack their heads together. 

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the smirk on your face from growing any further. "Not in front of the kids, Guz." "Ah, right, right- My bad." His shades slide onto his face, hiding the bright red blush that had crept onto his cheeks. "Well, you should probably get goin', ey? The Aether Foundation's one lucky company to have you interviewin' for a position."

"Dork." You boop his nose, then your niece's. "Call me if you need me, okay honey? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay, Titi (Y/N)-" You smile at the nickname while the others snicker. 'Titi' sounds an awful lot like 'Tittie', and considering three of the 7 people in the room are immature teenagers, there's definitely some laughing going on in the background. Plumeria looks very tired. How does she deal with these kids all the time?

"Alright, I'll be back. Don't light anything on fire, okay?" You yell as you walk off, feeling a slight hint of unease at the idea of leaving your young niece with so many delinquents, even if it's just for a few hours. It'll be fine, though. Guzma's there to keep them from doing anything stupid.

You laugh at the thought. Who am I kidding? He's probably gonna be the one who explodes something first.

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The interview itself wasn't all that bad. You're fairly certain that you either aced it or put yourself up for consideration, which in itself helped your confidence just a bit. With the absence of Lusamine and the arrest of several of her chairmen, the foundation was very antsy and in need of someone who could handle the Pokemon Observation department. With your background in medicine and PR, you were rationally on the list of potential replacements, and despite your initial resistance, learning that the company would be run by somebody that WASN'T the manipulative little bitch Lusamine gave you enough comfort to accept the offer for the interview. Was it just an offer or an invitation? You weren't quite sure, but Wick was very insistent on you showing up.

Either way, you're pretty certain you got the job. Good on you. 

You can't help but wonder how your niece is doing, surrounded by so many troublemakers. As you make your way to the entrance of the Shady House, you can hear loud music, causing you to feel a small tint of anxiety. She'll be fine.

You walk up to the door and creak it open, the smell of burnt… whatever the fuck that is flooding your nostrils. Of course. They lit something on fire.

"Guz??" You call out to the empty room. "Plumes? Anybody home?" As expected, there's no response. You start to feel more and more anxious the more ground you start to cover. Where are they? Peeking your head around the corridor, your anxiety comes to its peak when-

"And that's why you should never do drugs, aight?"

H-Huh?

Your niece sits on Guzma's knee as he bounces it up and down, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face like usual. Awfully burnt cookies sit on the table, explaining the smell from earlier, and Plumeria seems to be asleep with the other team skull grunts. Are they… napping? Seems like it. 

She nods enthusiastically, taking a bite of a charred cookie and grimacing shortly after, causing the two to both laugh in unison.

"Doesn't matter if it's just for recreational purposes, you could still get hooked, and that's the last thing we want!" Grinning once again, Guzma pokes her forehead.

Hypocrite. You're reminded of the first time you two had kissed, which happened to be shortly after you both had blazed a couple of joints. It's enough to get you laughing, though.

"Huh?! What're you doing here so early? Don't tell me ya flunked THAT bad!" Guzma's eyes widen, a genuine look of bewilderment painted on his face.

"I did not flunk! I think I did great!" You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. "It's suuuuuuuper comforting that you thought I failed, Guz."

"Nononono I was joking!! Right, kiddo??" Your niece quickly nods. "See???? No harm, no foul!"

Arching a brow, you walk up to the two and pick up the young girl. "Mhmmm. Did you have fun, honey?"

She nods again, unable to contain the grin on her face. "Uncle Guzma told me about his Pokemon training! And I got to ride on Golisopod's back!" 

The large bug type pokemon bops up and down upon hearing its name, prompting a smirk from Guzma. "Yeah, I told ya I'd take care of her. She's welcome back anytime, okay?"

"Thanks, Guz." You peck his cheek, and your niece sticks her tongue out, closing her eyes. 

"Icky cooties!!" Where the hell did she hear that? The only people you can think of who'd say such a thing are in the other room snoozing, so- Yeah, actually, you know exactly who taught her that word.

"Well, I'm gonna getchu with my cooties! And my tickles!" You raise a hand menacingly, wiggling your fingers with one eye closed. She immediately curls up, not out of fear, but out of excitement. It's nice to see her so happy again.

After a very long tickle session, you quickly glance at the large grandfather clock, noting the short hand of the clock slowly approaching the number 8. Shit. "We gotta go, kiddo. Your dad isn't gonna be all that happy if we get home any later than 8:30. Besides, it's past your bedtime."

"I bet Uncle Guzma stays up past his bedtime-" She yawns. "Can we stay for a little longer?"

How can I say no to that face? You find yourself incredibly conflicted. Do you tell her you have to leave anyways? Or do you stay and risk getting in trouble by your brother-in-law?

"Eh, as much as I'd love to have you over for longer, kiddo- Look at your Titi (Y/N). They look exhausted."

You smile gratefully at the comment, glad that it doesn't have to be you to tell your niece to go home. "Yeah, I'm beat. We can hang out some other time, okay? I promise." You pat her head and get ready to leave.

"Aww… okay. Bye, Uncle Guzma!! Bye Golisopod!" She holds your hand, and the two of you eventually walk your way back to the car. As you drive away, one thing lingers in your head. You can't think of anything else, in all honesty.

Guzma's great with kids. I should've expected as much, but… I'm glad he gets along with my family.

Your stomach rumbles at the intersection. I'd kill for some malasadas right about now- 

Okay, maybe you CAN think of something else.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

How about a little bonus @sicktember Mini-fic?

This one is solely based on something that is mentioned in the fic 'Loosen Up' by @jenniboo311 AND to make it better she helped me write it! (not to mention convinced me to actually post it) Some of the most amusing parts of this were her idea and I love her for it.

I call this one 'A Crappy Situation' and it's 993 words of Peter questioning his eating choices. It's hurt/comfort in the most ridiculous and humorous way possible.

Summary: Against Tony’s advice, Peter scarfs down a questionable looking hot dog directly before heading out on an impromptu mission. It turns out he should have taken that advice. Yet, under no uncertain terms does he want to admit the man was right. Unless he absolutely has to. Sicktember prompt: Food Poisoning

Warning for mentions of diarrhea/stomach upset and illness. Also *read in Cap's voice* Language.

[Full Fic Below the Cut]

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tony asked while suspiciously eyeing the hot dog clutched in Peter’s greedy hands. Their dinner plans had been interrupted by a call to assemble. Though, apparently his protege, who was determined to never miss a meal, had accosted a street vendor nearby. “I’m not sure street meat is the wisest choice before-”

“It’ll be fine,” Peter interrupted with a shrug, then he inspected the hot dog for a generous three seconds before devouring it in an animalistic fashion that made his mentor cringe.

However, an hour later, after the impromptu mission had wrapped up and Peter was clinging to Iron Man’s back, it was not fine. His stomach had started gurgling unhappily towards the beginning of the fight and had since progressed to something more painful. And undeniably embarrassing.

He knew he needed to say something. Something like, ‘Hey, Mr. Stark. I’m in desperate need of a bathroom, do you think we could take a quick break?’ or ‘Excuse me. Would you mind landing at the next possible gas station?’ But something was stopping him. Mostly his pride. He could practically hear his mentor’s saying, ‘I told you so,’ and really wanted to avoid bringing that into fruition. Then his insides twisted with such ferocity that he had no other choice but to speak up.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he began, but that's where the pre-planned speech ended. Because the urgent cries coming from his intestines had somehow managed to wipe all manner of professionalism and eloquence from his brain. Thus the words “I’m about to shit my pants!” flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“What?” Tony curtly replied, taken aback by the abruptness of the comment.

“We have to Land! Bathroom. Bathroom now!” Peter squawked, all sense of self-respect having gone completely out the window. “Put me down. Put me down. Put me down!”

As Peter began to twist and turn on his back, Tony had to readjust his pitch to counter the movement and keep himself steady. “Alright, alright! But you’ve got to be still!” he shouted belatedly processing the actual request.

“I can’t!” Peter shot back between a few stuttered breaths, his gut was growing angrier by the second.

‘Don’t crap on your childhood hero, Peter,’ he thought to himself as he frantically tensed every muscle in his body. ‘You'll never recover.’

“Do you want me to drop you?!” Tony questioned, once again adapting his torque and using the flight stabilizers to prevent them from taking a sudden nose dive. While he was well aware that Spider-Man could stick to damn near anything, he couldn't stop picturing him plummeting to the ground.

“Do you want me to shit on you?” Peter shouted, then abruptly realized that was not a sentence he ever thought he'd say to anyone, let alone Tony Stark. Hysterically, he reflected on what his life had become.

Tony sped up and gritted his teeth. “You better not,” he grumbled under his breath. That was not a situation he wanted to have to explain to anyone. Ever.

“Then shut up and land, already!” Peter screamed, knowing he would likely regret it later. But for the time being, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had much more urgent things to dwell on. Like, not crapping in a multi-million dollar suit.

Had it not been for the second-hand anxiety, Tony would have felt the need to berate the kid for telling him to shut up. But he figured they could circle back around to that later. When there weren’t any unpleasant threats looming over him.

After spotting a Seven-Eleven on the corner, he started their descent, half-expecting Peter to take off via web once they'd reached a reasonable altitude. However, the kid seemed to be more focused on trying to strangle him through the armor than anything else. “Pete, you’ve gotta ease up. This armor isn’t impervious to your super-strength, and I’m mortal.”

“I can’t ease up. I’m terrified to unclench anything,” Peter whimpered, the pressure was building and he was starting to fear for the worst. Although, he did make an effort to reposition his arms so that he wasn’t in danger of inadvertently murdering his famous, superhero boss-slash-friend-slash-father figure. Whatever. He didn’t actually have the capacity to try and put a label on their relationship at the moment.

As Peter adjusted his grasp, Tony sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll take those consequences over pending death, if you don’t mind,” he coughed, then landed directly in front of the convenience store. “Alright, Kid. Go-”

Peter did not require any further prompting. He hurriedly detached himself from the armor and tore through the gas station’s door with enough strength to rip it off the hinges. “Sorry! It’s an emergency!” he hollered but didn’t slow his steps. He only had eyes for the wooden men’s room door that was taunting him from the back of the store.

Once Peter was inside, Tony stepped through what could no longer be considered an actual door and waved casually towards the dazed attendant. “Yeah. I’m gonna pay for that,” he said as he retracted his armor to slide a can of clear soda and a ‘Stark Damage Control’ business card onto the counter. “You can bill me.”

Fifteen minutes later, Peter emerged with a sweat soaked brow and the stench of hot garbage trailing behind him.

“Ready to go?” Tony asked, popping open the can of soda and passing it over.

Peter lifted the bottom of his mask to take a sip, ignoring the horrified look the store keeper was shooting between him and the bathroom. “Yeah. I’m good now. Thanks for, uh- yeah.”

"So, we're never going to speak of this again," Tony stated in no uncertain terms, lifting off to resume their journey.

Peter nodded his head gratefully. "Does this mean we can ignore the part where I told you to shut up?"

"Yeah, no. That part, we're speaking about."

[harryhandstan]

gotta get better

gif credit

This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry​ and @bopbopstyles​ for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha 

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :) 

final word count: 7.1k

//

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

//

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.  

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

//

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

//

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

//

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them,  "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

//

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

//

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.