#I like to think of my job at my second home

[huhwhuhs]

Urghhhhhhhgruuuuu.....flessssshhhhhh.....

—

Today sucked, genuinely sucked, it wasn't a bad day all around, but it was just because my favorite set of ear buds decided to crap out on me last second so I had to go through the day in complete silence.

Which, in my personal opinion, is genuinely miserable.

The worst part was that they were actually pretty new, only two years old, and my last set gave me a good five. But one of the speakers just decided to blow out entirely and I'm not only going to listen to music in one ear for the rest of the time I have them.

But it doesn't matter now, shit happens and you just have to move on in life. I'm sure there's some inspiring quote out there about hurdles for this exact reason. So, I do as everyone does and go buy new earbuds with my already limited budget.

My job isn't the best, dead end at a packaging facility with a boss who thinks since I can actually do my work it's okay to pile more on me for free. Luckily, I have a bit of leftover spending money, so while I won't have anymore outings these next two months, I at least won't be entirely miserable during them.

Things are expensive now though, it's price tag after price tag, google search after google search, checking reviews and wondering how some of these got past the first testing trial with so many glitches.

But, eventually, right near the back of the rack, tucked awkwardly away because they probably don't bring in as much money as the others, is a plastic container with a little square black case inside.

It's shockingly cheap, there's not many reviews on them but none seem too bad, and they'll at least last me until I can save for some actual good ones, and maybe still have enough to catch dinner with my friends sometime.

I go to the counter, the cashier looks at me funny but I think it's because she never really sees anyone buying these, that or I'm more disheveled than I first thought. Then I pay and walk out.

Back home after a long drive, the radio louder than normal to make up for what I was lacking during the time I was standing awkwardly silent in that store. Unlock the door, step inside, kick my shoes off and watch them thunk against the shoe rack I never bother to actually use properly, and sit down to set everything up.

The case is pleasantly warm, I think they were pre-charged since the little light on the front for the battery shines yellow instead of red, most likely drained while it was sitting out on the rack. I grab the little manual, press down on the two little black earbuds while they're in the case to turn on pairing mode, and finally get them connected.

The manual, of course, says things about how you should take them out regularly, and how constant loud playing can "irritate" the speakers. A strange word for it but it's not something to pay much mind to.

Of course, I don't listen, because I love destroying my hearing one song at a time. They mold to my ears surprisingly comfortably, they're never cold out of the case, and they must run on solar power or something because every time I put them back in they're already charged. It almost feels uncomfortable to take them out now, like I'm taking some part of my ear with it.

Yeah, it's... almost ironic looking back on it now. Staring into the mirror as I take out my earbuds to shower and watch blood trickle out of my ear canal, freaking out and then seeing how pale and disgusting the inside of my ear has become, how its soft and sensitive and spongey with little porous holes in the flesh, everything is muffled and I can't tell if the swelling is blocking it, the blood, or if my ears are just infected and dead already.

I can only attribute it to one thing, and to i take those damned earbuds and throw them on the tile, watching the backs of them break off and start bleeding how it oozes onto the tile and stains it red how I can see bloody flesh underneath how I can see it pulse like it breathes and the little blood-stained hairs on the eartips like soft bristles that act like mosquitos how it mo v e s

[ooooo-mcyt]

It's such a shame the Secret Soulmates thing is so often portrayed as Grian being selfish or vindictive for no reason because I think the actual events leading up to Grian's decision to seek out BigB are way more interesting than just "Grian's a selfish cheater". So like, because it's not covered much, I'm just going to detail the entire narrative from Grian's pov leading up to his decision to go to BigB.

For the first part of the first episode, Grian actually really seems to be romanticizing the idea of soulmates. Multiple times, he describes his search for his soulmate as "looking for love" and he hits everyone he meets with almost excited anticipation.

The moment Grian and BigB first look at each other is surprisingly romantic? I mean, it feels like what you'd expect from someone meeting their soulmate, from someone who just knows.

BigB and Scott finish testing if they're soulmates, and BigB is mid sentence when he turns around and look at Grian, and BigB just stops mid sentence and goes "Oh", which Grian echos (also when bigb looks at grian, grian holds his shield up for a good few seconds which just gives me the image of him hiding behind it and peering over the top which is uncharacteristically shy for grian but also really cute). "Are you ready?", BigB asks, and he waits for Grian to give him the go ahead before hitting him.

And..nothing. They aren't soulmates. BigB sounds disappointed. Grian sounds almost distraught, "I was so sure- I've never had such a broken heart in my life."

Shortly after Grian's soulmate takes significant damage. Everyone present rushes to give him food, though Grian would later credit BigB specifically with the very warm sentiment of having "saved" him.

And Grian's first meeting with Scar is..different.

Grian already doesn't seem to want to be Scar's soulmate, doesn't want to be teamed again, for one reason or another. And Scar..doesn't make it easier. Grian tries to talk to him, as the realization sets in, tries to say it, that they're soulmates. Grian does say it. But Scar isn't listening. Scar actively talks over Grian to brush Grian off, walking away while Grian is trying to grapple with the fact that they're soulmates.

Scar doesn't notice. Grian said it, mind you, in plain English- "Scar I think we're soulmates"- and Scar heard him, Scar responded to him, Scar just wasn't listening. Scar doesn't look for his soulmate, and he doesn't figure it out either for the rest of the episode. Grian tries to tell him twice more, and twice more Scar isn't listening. The first time, Grian calls after Scar twice as he's running off, "Scar I need to tell you something", but Scar doesn't turn around. The final time, Grian literally forces Scar to look at him and drops dripstone on their heads. Scar somehow still doesn't see him. Grian demands Scar look at him, actually look, this time, and finally, with great effort, he manages to get the point across.

One of Scar's first questions is "do we have to live together?", and Grian responds that it would be nice to, a sentiment Scar doesn't immediately echo. Grian pulls Scar along, back to the base Grian got working on by himself earlier.

At the start of the next episode, they have a disagreement. Scar brings home some pandas without consulting Grian, and Grian reacts very negatively, making a no pandas in the house rule and prompting Scar to help him with work instead. Grian specifically delegates the job of getting oak wood to Scar while Grian continues working on..everything else..himself. And after a bit of procrastinating from Scar, he does go to do his "chores" as Scar describes them.

Except that Scar doesn't actually.

Well, I mean, he does do the "chore" Grian gave him, but while he's out, he takes a break to think of a way to punish Grian, coming up with the idea of using powdered snow to hurt Grian as a punishment for Grian not letting the animals in the house and making Scar do a "chore". Grian doesn't technically know Scar did this on purpose, but with tick damage being a very distinctive type of damage that you usually would have to do on purpose to take as much as Scar did, I wouldn't be surprised if Grian figured it out.

It's at this point, that Grian decides to go to BigB. And it doesn't feel like he's just doing it for shallow reasons or to be mean, it fully checks out.

Because Grian's not happy with Scar at this point!

Partially because Scar himself doesn't seem interested in Grian at all, wouldn't listen to Grian to the point of talking over and brushing him off when Grian tried to tell him, and didn't want to live together after finding out. For Grian, who genuinely did seem to have a rather romantic view of soulmates at the start of the first episode, it probably kinda sucked to have his soulmate look past him like that. I can't fault Scar for not being particularly interested, but just because Scar didn't do anything technically wrong doesn't mean Grian's not allowed to be unhappy.

And then there's the other problem. The one I see surprisingly few fans talk about in regards to Scar and Grian. "Why does everyone else get a real partner except me?", Grian asked shortly before deciding to go to BigB. It's a sentiment we get from Grian multiple times. He says being Scar's partner is like babysitting, like having a toddler, Scar doesn't feel like a partner, he feels like a source of emotional labor who has no interest in lessening the burden for Grian. And. Yeah. Grian has good reason to feel like Scar makes him do all the labor in their relationship. I mean, Grian needed to get very pushy to even get Scar to agree to help build their shared base, Grian had to do the job of managing Scar on what specific task to do, Grian gave Scar a very small job comparative to the work Grian was doing around the house, and Scar still complained and found a way to punish Grian (the powdered snow) for "making" him do "chores" and not wanting animals in the house.

Which isn't to say Scar is bad or malicious or something, I love Scar, hell, I love Desert Duo, I think they work very well together in a lot of cases, but I think there is very much a labor imbalance- both in actual work and in emotional labor- here and it's understandably upsetting for Grian.

And in comparison, BigB looks..wonderful, to Grian?

BigB wanted him, for starters. They both felt it, the previous day. Scar kept looking through Grian, but BigB's eyes met Grian's and they both felt something. BigB seems considerate too. Grian feels like he has to pull teeth to get Scar to help him with the house (and then gets punished for it), meanwhile BigB is the one who "saved" Grian the previous day, jumping to give him food, not to mention the considerate gesture of BigB checking in to make sure Grian is ready before hitting him for the soulmate check. And, well, Grian clearly likes BigB.

Grian wasn't just going to someone else to be mean to Scar, and he didn't go for BigB just because he wanted someone, Grian was- validly!- unhappy with Scar (who didn't seem to want to be together much either) and actively liked BigB and thought he'd be a good partner.

Also, Grian very notably announces that he's defying destiny and asserts that he has a choice in who to be with, which adds a thematic layer of personal agency to the whole thing too. You get the impression Grian was mostly with Scar because he felt like he had to be, because the universe tied them together. But here Grian considers, for the first time, the thought that maybe it's okay to be with someone he wants, and who makes him happy, instead of resigning himself to be with the one he's 'supposed' to be with just because he's 'supposed' to.

(this idea of agency in who you love is relevant to double life as a whole, as i've made many posts about, but also is relevant to desert duo specifically. as much as i think they really cared about each other in third life, grian was also with scar because he was supposed to be for most of the season. being with scar had always, up to that point, been something grian was obligated to do, something grian didn't feel he had much choice in. so grian finally asserting here to the audience that he has a choice feels very relevant thematically.)

[iidesxreii]

Anatomy - S. Reid

∘₊☽ Song: https://music.apple.com/us/album/anatomy-single/1695033802 ☽₊∘

╔ Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

☆ Word Count: 5.3k

☆ Category: Angst/Fluff (Opposites attract, what can I say?)

☆ Summary: You never talk about your father with anyone. And when you finally do allow yourself to think of all the reasons you come to a certain realization. One that took you years to admit. //My take on the song Anatomy by Kenzie.//

☆ Content: HURT/COMFORT, angst, flashbacks, dad problems GALORE

╚ A/N: Omg this is my first fic and it's been sitting in my drafts for like months. I was skeptical about posting this but I guess no better time than now you know? I have a couple more in the drafts and if this does any type of good, I'll release more! Bold are lyrics, italics are memories <3

Also!! This is LONG. I didn't realize how long until I scrolled through and my GOSH. Please grab snacks and tissues because this shit gets deep. PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU HATE IT I WONT BE MAD I SWEAR.

If you squint I slipped in some very slight father figure Hotch bc that’s my crack

═══════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ═══════

You called me today, on a random Tuesday

Don't ask me why I still have your number saved

You roll your eyes and double click your lock button to send the phone call to voicemail. You try to continue talking with the team, but within seconds your phone is ringing again. You sigh and pull your phone out fully but before you could send them to voicemail again, Hotch’s voice broke through to you. 

“Agent (Y/L/N). I don’t know who’s calling you, but please go answer. This is the 3rd time.” Hotch’s usual monotonous voice cuts through the conversation everyone else was having, the minute he does it goes quiet in the conference room. You breathe in deeply before licking your lips looking for a reply.

“Actually it’s the 18th time since you clocked in this morning. 3rd since we’ve landed.” Your all knowing, fast talking and ever so loving boyfriend chirps from the corkboard. Your eyes dart to him and you see that he hasn’t even turned an inch to look at you. Still focusing on the ins and outs of the case your team was supposed to be working on. You sigh before clearing your throat.

“Since you know SO much Reid, who is it?” You ask as you stand from your seat at the table. Morgan has a smile on his face as he watches you two fight like a married couple. Your hands land on your hips and Reid finally turns around. He has a file in his hands and the entire time he speaks he’s reading into it.

“Your father. I saw his name come up 4 times before we went to the round table room for debriefing.” He places the white board marker down before flipping a page in the file and continuing to read. You squint at him and make a face. Your boyfriend had terrible social cues, especially while on the job. He wasn’t the easiest to speak to sometimes, which is why you never let it bother you. Until now. Talking about your father brought the worst out in you. “If you’re going to ignore someone’s calls you could try blocking them or turning-” 

“Reid.” Hotch’s stern voice comes barreling through his train of thought and he finally looks up. When he sees your face his softens immediately. He didn’t know why you never spoke about your dad or why you never answered his calls. He also didn’t know why you never went home during your vacations or never spoke about your home life. But seeing you look so defeated after his last few words to you, he’s wanted to know more than ever. You roll your eyes and pull your phone out. You click your fathers name and the phone immediately redials and sends out the call. You show your colleagues and some of them jokingly laugh as you head out of the door. The phone rings 4 times before it picks up. And then you hear your father.

Hello, stranger, it's been forever

You're acting normal, but nothing's normal about

“Hey stranger! Seems like I can never get you on the phone nowadays!” Your dad’s voice cuts through the quiet silence after a beat of sitting on the phone. You clear your throat as you entire an office that was empty. It wasn't too far from your team so you could still keep an eye on them and gauge what they were talking about.

“Hi dad.” you mumbled into the phone. Your tone of voice did nothing to throw your father off his reason for calling you. You can hear the smile on his face when he continues talking.

“Are you busy? Do you have some time for catching up?” He asks so innocently but you fear that. Your dad never calls for just anything, there’s always something behind the call. Something you chose to stay away from.

“Ah…no.” You think about it for a second before answering. You should have said you were busy, or you shouldn't have called back and instead blocked his number but the thing about your father was you loved him. You always had, always will. He was your weak spot. No matter how many times he had proven he didn’t deserve second, third or fourth chances you gave him them all.

“My little FBI agent is finally quiet. You know you were never really a quiet kid-” he continued talking and you continued listening. Another notion towards you giving your father time that he doesnt deserve. You watch as your team continues shuffling around in the room, talking and marking up a board you can only see half of. 5 minutes later you see the door to their room open and you turn away. Within seconds you find your door opening and Morgan peeking his head in.

“Profile is ready. Good to go?” he asks. You turn to him and give him a thumbs up before returning to your call. The door closes and you take a peek at it before clearing your throat.

“Hey dad, I’ve got to go but…I’ve got some vacation time saved up. How about I come visit and we can go out for dinner.” you turn to look and find your team making their way out of the room and towards the open vast police station. A sure sign that they were about to give the profile without you.

“That’s a wonderful idea, munchkin. Let me know when. Stay safe.” you nod into the phone and immediately hang up. There was nothing more to say after that. You slide your phone on mute before sticking it in your pocket and opening the office door. Before you can head towards the team you feel a hand on your arm. You turn to find Spencer standing, waiting on you.

“Angel-” He doesn’t get any further before you smile and pull your arm gently from him. You didn’t want to talk, no matter how sad you looked or felt. Talking about your dad was never a good thing.

“Not right now, Spence. Profile time.” you deflect like you always have. Never talking about your father was normal to you. Nothing good had or could ever come from talking about your father.

Trust issues and soaking tissues

Your relationship with your father had turned sour about a year after him and your mom divorced. He stopped visiting, stopped calling, stopped sending money for you and your sister. Like he had just given up. And then one day he started calling back and his reasoning was because work had exhausted him and strained him beyond what he was used to but he was back and wasgoing to be there for you guys. If only 7 year old you had known the lie.

“I’m going to come and pick you guys up and we’ll hangout for the weekend. I told your mom I’d be there at 5. I love you guys, Munchkin.” his voice came through the phone one wednesday. Your sister, Ameilia, squealed and jumped on her bed before flopping down and grabbing her pillow to scream into.

“We love you too dad! We can’t wait!” You quickly hung up the phone and turned to your older sister who stopped in her tracks and immediately started digging through your shared closet for clothes to wear. You followed suit with the brightest smile on your face. Unknowingly to you and Ameilia, your mother was standing at your door with a worried look on her face.

Lyin' to my sister and sayin' I don't miss you

The false hope calls kept coming well into your teen years. The constant ‘I’ll pick you up’ and ‘I’m sorry I just got caught up in work’ conversations weren’t making it better. Each time he fell through he had a better lie than last time. Ones that made sense in your little brain. You didn’t finally grasp that he wasn’t ever coming until your 16th birthday. Your mom had saved up as much money as she could to pay for an extravagant party for you and you invited your dad. Of course he agreed and said he’d be in attendance that night which got you excited. But as the night droned on, and the end of your party came to a close you found that everything he had ever said in the last 9 years had been a lie. You knew you’d get a call sometime next weekend about how busy he had gotten, but you figured you’d let it ring. Maybe Amelia would answer.

“You okay?” Ameilia asks you a few days later. You’re working on something to keep yourself busy when you look up to her. She’s sitting on her bed playing with a small toy your dad had given her years ago. 

“I’m fine…” came your quiet voice. She looked up at you and scoffed before throwing the toy into the box labeled goodwill. She was cleaning her side of your guys room before college, and it seemed she was trying to get away from your dad. Something you knew you’d need to do yourself, but haven’t done just yet.

“Do you miss him?” came her soft voice. You turned to her once more before swallowing. You shuffled a bit on your bed before coming to the edge and sitting down. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Do you lie? Tell the truth? “It’s okay if you do. I did too for a while.” you look up at this. Another toy gets tossed into the box and she looks back at you. 

“Do you still?” comes your quiet question. Your 16th birthday was the one time you expected your father to come through. But you couldn’t help but feel sad that he didn’t. You could deal with any other lie, but a lie about missing this big of a milestone in your life? inexcusible.

“Do me a favor.” You look up to find her standing from her bed. She has her hands on her hips, which is how you know she means what she’s about to say. “When I leave for school, if he keeps calling…don’t pick up. If the ringing bothers you pick it up and slam it back down. But don’t speak to him ever again. He’s not worth your tears (Y/N/N).”

With no closure, just getting older

Now almost 8 years after that conversation you still find it in you to have his number saved. You try not to answer the phone but his persistence quietly eats at the back of your brain making you answer the phone, though you’d never admit that to your sister. You’d never hear the end of it from her. She’d eat at you about the closure you both never got. Which would make you not want to disappoint her but you can’t make them both happy. So for now, you pretend you haven’t answered his calls in years. But you know and it eats at you. The pain you experienced from not really having your dad in your life made growing up harder than it should. Nobody to chase the boys away, nobody to cry to when you felt your mom was being unfair, nobody to bring you to the ‘daddy daughter’ dances. A figment of your imagination, a silhouette of a man you once knew. Nobody to introduce Spence to, have dinners with, walk you down the aisle when that time comes. Just emptiness. 

And the older you got the easier it got to ignore the calls. When you managed to get a job at the BAU every excuse after was about how busy you were. New case, no time on your hands, working overtime, no vacation time, ect. Nothing you ever came up with for an excuse was ever about something normal. It was always about your job. Which put you in a temporary peace of mind. Your phone stopped ringing all the time and only rang sometimes. Your call log stopped being filled with ‘dad’ and in turn at the top of your messages was always a new excuse on why you didn’t answer. And for a while the lies became easier, something you no longer thought about but instead typed out and sent before going back to sitting on your couch. Which had turned you into him, and made you feel guilty so you went back to answering.

But you still see me as a kid on your shoulders

“Can’t wait to see you again! We can go to the park and eat ice cream after!” is the first text you see when you come out of the house you and your team had just barged into. You don’t respond to the text, you instead clear your throat and lock your phone before looking around and checking which car you’d be riding back to the station in.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

“Why do you even care about dad? It’s not like he cared about us.” Your sister had asked during one thanksgiving where she was home from school. You shrugged before continuing to wipe off your makeup. Yet another festivity you had invited him to that he had missed.

“He did. At some point…” you whispered into the air. You watched Ameilia roll her eyes and scratch her nose before she threw her hands up and turned away from you. 

“Right. Blood doesn’t make you family you know. He’s only half of our DNA anyway.” She grabs her phone off her bed and heads out of your old shared room and towards the bathroom with a tune humming behind her. You wished you could feel like her. Thriving even without dad. Living.

Still, you don't know me at all

“Maybe we just do the ice cream. The park isn’t for me anymore.” is the only thing you text back. Before you can lock your phone a message comes in and you read it.

“Sorry Munchie. I forget you’re not so small anymore.” Munchie. He hadn’t called you that since before the divorce. It plays in your head over and over again before you will yourself to type something back.

“I am unfortunately 23 now, dad.” You lock your phone immediately before you can accidentally read another text. You go to slip your phone into your pocket and feel it vibrate almost immediately. You shrug it off and pay attention to what Hotch is telling you from the driver’s seat. Right now this is more important. Catching your killer is more important. But Munchie plays in your head anyway.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

“You still don’t miss him?” you question your sister as she’s getting ready for bed. She turns to you and her smile drops immediately. 2 years ago she had asked if you missed him, and now you're asking her if she misses him. You know the answer though.

“Does he miss us?” You can hear the aggravation in her voice as she answers you. She pulls her blankets back on her old bed and plugs her phone onto the charger.

“Of course he does.” comes your reply. She turns and places her hands on her hips, a notion that she was getting serious.

“Text him. Text him that you miss him and tell me what he says." She motions towards your phone before walking out of your room. An hour later she come back in from her shower and heads to her own bed. She sits down and reaches for the lamp that was on. “Anything?”

“No…” comes your solemn reply. You had been staring at the phone since you sent it. Eyes bloodshot and bleary.

“Open your fucking eyes, (Y/N).” and then the light is gone. And all you are left with is a broken heart, a fading phone screen, and tears streaming down your face.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

“Dinner guys?” Hotch voices as you all leave the station with one more bad guy caught. You look over your team who is all fondly talking to one another.

“Absolutely. All on you Hotch?” Morgan jokes while clapping Hotch on the shoulder. Hotch spares him a side eye before letting out a small chuckle. 

“Absolutely not.” He pats Morgan’s chest before turning to you and Reid. The entire team turns and you find everyone staring at you. Spencer included. 

“(Y/N)?” JJ has her bottom lip between her teeth and she’s holding back a smile. You chalk up wallowing in self pity to a later time and smile.

“Family dinner it is.” Spencer smiles at you before throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking with you to the car.

Hate when people say that our noses are the same

So I went and got a change, like three-quarters of L.A

Three weeks later you’re walking in from lunch with Spencer when you see the rest of your team crowding around Penelope. She has an ipad in her hands and she’s pointing at something on it when you both approach. You find a picture of JJ’s family on it and they’re pointing out the similarities in JJ now. You shake your head and head to your desk when you hear your name.

“Wow (Y/L/N). You look just like your dad.” Emily’s voice cuts through the team’s jabbering and you freeze. You hated hearing that. You looked like him and now you don’t reach out like him. Every call is from him and not from you.

“What?” You ask, turning around slowly. Emily points at the Ipad in Penelope’s hand and Penelope turns it to you. You find a picture of you, Amelia, your mom and your dad all dressed in your sunday best for easter photos. You had to be no older than 6. Sometime right before the divorce.

“It’s like copy and paste.” JJ smiles at you and you try to fake one back. Except it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Jj, Penelope and Emily all notice and like a switch the Ipad is turned around and they all shut up.

“Except her nose is a bit smaller now. It was larger when she was a kid.” Morgan continues. He has a smile on his face and he shows no limit of stopping. Emily turns to him and you see her make a gesture that he completely ignores. JJ taps at his biceps and he shakes it off. Reid goes to open his mouth and stop him but the damage is done. “You get a nose job (Y/L/N)?” everyone's eyes go wide and you blink a few times. Before he can rush out an apology you’re cleaning your desk and grabbing your things. You needed an out. You wanted no one to know about your father or your nose job, but now your whole team knew.

And I've dated shitty people 'cause of how you treated mom

Now I'm with somebody good, but I'm still feeling numb 'cause of

The next day you come in and the subject is on shitty exes. JJ, Emily and Penelope are discussing the ins and outs of how shitty their love life has been or is going. Except obviously JJ. She’s got Will and a newborn. Who wouldn’t love to be in JJ’s shoes. You reach your desk and keep quiet. You’d usually add in your two cents by now but with what had happened yesterday and your abrupt shift end you don’t add your input due to the shitty list of men you had from the ripe age of 14 to 20. Instead you listen to theirs. And it wasn’t like you were expecting an apology. You weren’t. You were just taking your time in getting over the fact that you’d never be able to skip the accusations of looking exactly like your father. A spitting image of him. Like a mirror.

“How is it to be with Reid? Is he how I think he is?” Emily speaks to you first. You turn to her with a relaxed smile and lean back in your chair. You cross your legs over the other and cock your head.

“How do you think he is?” you question her. She looks at JJ and Pen before clearing her throat and giving you an awkward smile.

“The same here, but more relaxed. And always talking your ear off.” JJ holds back a laugh by licking her bottom lip and Pen just smacks Emily’s arm softly.

“He’s actually quieter. And cuddlier than in public, but that’s because he doesn’t like PDA.” You shrug like this is  normal conversation. And of course it is because it’s you talking to your girl friends about your boyfriend, but it isn’t because these are your teammates and your boyfriend is one of them.

“Hey about yesterday-” Emily starts but you wave her off. You make a funny face before stretching.

“No apologies needed. It’s fine.” and then you turn back towards your desk and you continue working on the file at hand. You play it off well but you refuse to let them know that their words have been on constant repeat in your head since you heard them. 

Trust issues, I'm soaking tissues

Lyin' to my sister like I never miss you

Ameilia calls you and catches you off guard the weekend after it happens. She starts the call off by saying something about her wedding which gives you a moment to collect yourself from the multiple crying sessions you’ve had. But you slip and let out a sniffle and she hears it. She stops all conversation and listens for a minute. You try to play it off and speak to her but your voice gives it away.

“What’s wrong?” she asks into the phone. You sniffle again before clearing your throat. You give yourself some time before answering and sigh.

“Nothing Ames. Continue talking about your wedding.” You plaster a fake smile on your face even though she can’t see you. You wipe at your bloodshot eyes and throw yet another tissue into the pile on the table.

“Is it dad?” she asks. You open your mouth to disagree and stop yourself. Then you continue with your lie. You’re just as bad as him, half of him. A liar.

“What? No. I don’t talk to him-” you start to go on a tangent and you hear your sister’s voice break your train of thought. 

“I know you’re still talking to him. I spoke to mom.” Is the only thing she says to you. You sigh into the phone and shake our head. Leave it to your mother to break your 8 year lie apart

“I-” you start but you hear your sister on the other line. She sighs and sniffles before quickly covering it up with clearing her throat.

“I wish I loved him the same way you do. I really do.” And without missing another beat she goes back to talking about her wedding. Anything to not talk about dad.

Say you'll visit, empty promise

God, I wish that for once you'd be honest

A couple of weeks go past and you’re back in your hometown with Spencer. He hadn’t managed to get vacation time with you, but he had a couple of days saved up and decided to use 2 of them for dinner with your dad. Something you had asked him for and he immediately dropped everything to be in attendance. He knew the history with your father. And how much you tried to refuse talking to him. He thought that if you could face this, he’d be able to ask your father if he could marry you. Because that was all he was waiting for, a chance to ask properly.

So you found a hotel and a great place for dinner. Texted your dad and told him where and when to meet you. You got dressed in the hotel room, called a cab to ride in for the dinner and walked in with your head high when you said you had a reservation for 3. You sat at the table shuffling with anxiety and Spencer watched hoping that this wouldn’t be like all the other times. The times that had you sniffling and crying for days on end. The times you spent in your apartment and not his because you didn’t want him seeing you that way. But as time went on, one hour went to two and then three and your drinks went from just one to six. He saw the look on your face. One of defeat and embarrassment. And you chalked it up to another defeat when you called your waiter over and had them close out your six cup wine tab and Spencer’s one glass of water. You signed the $300 dollar tab and left two crisp hundred dollar bills for wasting your waiter’s time and stood. Spencer followed and you both made your way to the hotel.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

Still, you don't know me at all

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in some work and fell asleep at the office. Dinner on me next week instead? You’ll still be in town then right?” You read the text and throw your phone on the bed and turn to Spencer who is looking at you with his hands in his pocket. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls his hands from his pockets and opens his arms for you to fall into. And you do. You sigh and fall into his arms and waste no time crying your eyes out.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

You now understood why Ameilia never sent your father a wedding invite. He wouldn’t pull through back then for either of you, what makes your silly little heart think he’d pull through last night? Or for her wedding? Another ping finds your ears as you watch Spencer gather his things for the airport.

“Munchie. I’m sorry.” “Munchie, I'll be at The Brindleton for lunch. My treat.” “Munchie. Please call me back. I love you”. You don’t notice Spencer looking at you or the tilt in his head as he analyzes your body language. He’s trying to gauge how you feel about your father because unbeknownst to you, you crying in his arms last night solidified that maybe you were ready for anything that comes after 3 years 9 months 19 days and 6 hours of dating. That black velvet box that has been sitting behind the books you find most boring on his bookshelf is now digging a hole into his heart. You look up and find him staring and you just smile at him. And he smiles back.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

You flew in 3 hours ago and found yourself at Spencer’s place. Playing with his fingers as he lays on the couch underneath you. Your phone blares your ringtone and Spencer looks at you. You pick it up, watch it ring and when it’s done he notices the multitude of calls you’ve missed. 19. All of them from your father. And he watches as you open your phone, and block his number. Then you delete his contact and set your phone down again. He watches as you contently lie back down and sigh. A silent relief falling off your shoulders. His eyes fly to the bookshelf and then back to you. 

“Hey, why'd you come straight to mine?” Spencer crane's his neck to look at you and you shrug. You spare him no glance as you melt into him even more. He wouldn't have thought that was possible minutes ago.

“I was ready to come home.” your simple answer does it for him. He makes up his mind immediately. And you do too.

It's just anatomy, you make up half of me

On your 4 year anniversary Spencer pops the question. Over dinner at home. And of course you say yes, excited to show your mom and sister. No longer does your father cross your mind. Instead it’s filled with what your future could look like. Half Spencer, half you.

But still, you don't know me at all

You get the occasional call to your work phone but you’ve seen that number before and instead you ignore it. Spencer and the team watches as you do. No longer does it bother anyone because the only place he can reach you is work, and unfortunately a lot of calls go unanswered as a government worker. 

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

You watch your sister walk down the aisle in front of you with her fiance’s dad guiding her. Which makes you think about how you’d like to walk you down the aisle. You turn to Spencer who’s looking ahead at your sister and smile. Your missing piece was never your father. You just held a spot open for someone to love and missed the clear sign that there was always someone there.

Guess I meant less than I thought

A year and a half go by and you’re sitting at your sister’s house with Spencer. She hands you a small box and you find a small cupcake, its topper, a baby pacifier. You gasp as you stand and reach for your sister with wide eyes. She squeals as you squeeze her and turn to Spencer who has dug his finger in the icing of your cupcake. You roll your eyes and turn to Ameilia.

“You are going to be the BEST auntie ever. I love you.” it no longer hurts to hear I love you. Especially when you know the person saying it means it. It means even more when you know you mean it too.

“I love you more.”

It's just anatomy

“For all it’s worth…I knew you had a nose job. I just loved your face so much I never said anything.” Spencer whispers into your ear the night before the wedding. You roll over and face him with creased eyebrows. 

“Are you sure it isn’t because you profiled me and knew I wasn’t going to ever recover if you had told me you knew?” You ask it in a joking way but Spencer can see the truth behind it. 5 years, 7 months, 24 days, 23 hours and 56 minutes of loving you and he can tell everything about you. He never misses a chance to learn something new though. 

“It could be that…” he mumbles as he shoves his face between your breasts in a way of getting more comfortable. If neither of you get any sleep the wedding won’t be exactly as you planned it. And he would hate to make his bride’s perfect wedding go wrong. “Angel, it’s just anatomy. I wouldn’t have cared. I still don’t.” he whispers it and you almost don’t hear it. Almost. But you do and you shuffle closer before wrapping your arms around him.

“And that is why I said yes.” you kiss the top of his head before closing your eyes and attempting to fall asleep. A full day is ahead of you in no less than 10 hours.

Hate that you're half of me

“You ready?” you turn and find Hotch at your side. You wouldn’t have asked for a better father figure to walk you down the aisle. And he was honored you asked. He turns to you and adjusts your dress once more mumbling about modesty and returns to your right side. He holds his arm out for you and you lay your hand in the slit of his elbow.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” comes your response. And within seconds the door is opening, the music is playing, and Hotch is walking you down the aisle. Blood surely didn’t make this family, you did. The BAU was your family. Your dad was just…anatomy.

[fandom-random-help]

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 of Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Military!Reader

Simon stared at his phone in a bit of shock. He wasn't stupid, but now he was second-guessing that. He was putting pieces together in his mind while his phone buzzed over and over with calls from Price. How could his sweet little bird lie to him? Why would she even lie about this?

Things started to make sense now. The constant "business trips", you knowing how to shoot a gun (multiple in fact, but he didn't know that), and the slip of the tongue when you would respond to and/or understand military jargon. All of those things made Simon believe you were Grasshopper, and right now he needed to see you. He got dressed in his casual clothes, an army green shirt, black sweat pants, and a black surgical mask to match. He snuck out of his room and quietly walked as fast as he could to the infirmary. He couldn't believe you never told him about what you really do for work, but he also understood why you would keep it a secret. He knew it all too well. The worry, the agony of not knowing if you would come home alive at the very least, the thought of possibly putting those you love in danger. He knew those thoughts, hell he's had them ever since you two started dating. He needed to hear those words from you though.

You sat in your bed. You were glad to be in somewhat familiar territory and you didn't have to wear that stupid mask anymore. The infirmary was nice, but void of anything lively to say the least. Your recovery was going quite well. There were even discussions of you getting to go home in a couple days. With all of the good news surrounding your recovery you were drowning in the thought of having to confess to Simon about everything. You've talked yourself up, gaining confidence and finding the words you wanted to say for when you would see Simon again. Suddenly, a faint knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. A young nurse carefully walked in and closed the door. "Sergeant (Y/L/N) there's a Lieutenant Riley here to see you. Would you like for me to send him in?" The nurse asked almost in a whisper even though you were wide awake. You nodded your head, "Let him come in."

When Simon walked in his eyes scanned your form. You looked so different in a hospital gown. So fragile that if you even attempted to get out of bed you'd break. He didn't say a word as he sat down beside your bed, his eyes still on you. After a brief moment of looking at each other in pure silence, you spoke up. "Simon, I'm sorry I never told you. I was worried about how you would take it. I wanted to have both my job and you. I didn't want you to worry about me or make me change my career because it didn't fit your perception of me." Before you could continue Simon cut you off with a chuckle. "Love, I don't want none of that. I get why you did it. I get why you kept it from me, but don't think I didn't worry. I do gotta say though, you had me fooled in the beginning." You looked at him in suprise. "Wait really? How? I felt like I had the most ridiculous mask covering my face. My jokes with the guys weren't funny. I was almost useless the entire time. I felt so out of place." You explained. Simon shook his head. "No love, you are an entirely different person at work than you are at home. You were bold, confident, you spoke your mind when need be, and let's not forget the stress ball. I didn't know you kept little things like that with you, but you did and it came in handy. You were incredible out there darlin'. So what, you took a bullet? You were lucky and quick enough on your feet that that's the only wound you suffered the entire time we were gone." You blushed at his words and then he leaned closer. "I'm lucky to call you my girlfriend. Wanna know why?" You smile and nod your head. "Because I have the most gorgeous and badass woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." Your heart swelled at his words. Simon was never the affectionate type, and you didn't mind. But this? This was a whole different side of him you've never really seen all too often. "You wanna know something else?" He said. You giggled, "What baby?"

"Before I knew you were my girl under the mask. I fell for Grasshopper pretty hard. I gotta say she was pretty irresistable. Hard not to think of her bossing me around if she was rightfully mad." His confession had you a laughing mess. "So what are you saying? You liked Grasshopper more than me? Your precious little doll?" You chuckled. "No love, it just means I fell in love with a new side of you. To me, it felt like falling in love all over again with you." Simon whisperd.

The rest of the night was spent with you two telling each other about your military stories. The good, the bad, and the awesome stories were all laid bare to each other in the silence of your infirmary room. Simon even cuddled with you on the hard bed for the remainder of the evening. When the sun rose, you were greeted by a firm knock at the door as the doctor stepped in. Simon quickly got out of bed and sat back in the chair beside you, listening intently on what the doctor said about your recovery. You were going to need some time to rest at home. No strenuous activities or heavy lifting. The doctor handed you the discharge papers and you signed them eagerly. Simon waited for you outside of the room while you gathered all your things.

But then he noticed Price, Johnny, and Kyle at the front desk. He could only assume they were there to see you on your way out.

"Bloody hell." Simon cursed under his breath.

Part 4 coming soon!

Taglist!!!!! (I almost forgot)

@camcvpidd

@thatoneghostcosplayer

Love you guys!!!!!

[wabatle]

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Face Injury

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Synopsis: you try to help Rin practice but it doesn't go so well...

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: reader gets pummeled in the face with a soccer ball, mentions of blood, reader gets a bloody nose, slightly ooc rin but fuck it we ball

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: fluff, gn!reader, HEAVILY inspired by a scene in a book called "The Inheritance Games"!! GO READ THAT BOOK IS FANTASTIC!!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: i read this scene in the book and immediately was like "i should make a blue lock fanfiction out of this"

Oh god. Rin hadn’t meant for this to happen.

You had insisted on helping him practice, and to your surprise, he agreed. You were wondering if it was because he genuinely wanted to spend time with you, or if it was because you were basically on your knees begging and he just wanted you to shut up, the latter being more believable.

So, the two of you traveled to an empty outdoor soccer field in a nearby park. What could go wrong?

Well, a lot, as it turns out.

Neither of you were quite sure how you were going to help Rin, but you figured maybe you could toss him the ball and he would kick it…? You weren’t sure, but at least you were helping.

It was going swimmingly, too. You occasionally made remarks to tease Rin, which was pretty distracting.

That’s how it happened.

You shouted right as Rin was about to kick the ball, which threw him off. Of course, he still kicked it, and it was a phenomenal kick as usual, but… While you were shouting, you moved, and the ball hit you right in the face.

It wasn’t exactly a light hit either. Not the kind of hit that happened in gym class where you’d either go to the nurse for an ice pack or get back to work. The ball crashed into your face, almost dislocating your nose and sending you flying backwards.

And that’s where you are now, sitting in the bathroom. You’re sitting on the closed toilet, hunched over with a tissue to your nose to stop the blood.

“...You good? Need another tissue?” He asked.

“Um…No, I think I’m okay. I'm pretty sure it stopped.” You said.

Run nodded, running warm water over a washcloth. “Come here.” He commanded.

You stood and walked over to him. You stood against the sink. Rin put one hand on your cheek, the other holding the washcloth. He gently rubbed your face with the cloth, the warmth seeping into your skin. It stung for a second, but then stopped.

“...Sorry.” He muttered.

“You don't have to apologize. It's okay. It was an accident. I’m not mad.” You smiled.

“...Tch. Your face only had dirt on it.”

“That's good! It doesn't hurt that much anymore.”

There was silence for a second. “Rin?”

He ran the warm cloth over your face again, and you found yourself leaning into his touch.

You gently pushed him against the bathroom wall. Your lips drew closer to his. “Yes?” You asked, your fingers tracing his jaw.

“…Yes.” He replied.

Your lips touched each other, and he kissed you back harder than you'd anticipated. He grabbed your hair, tilting your head up.

He seemed to scrutinize your face.

“Um… is there something on my face?” You asked.

“...Not anymore. It's clean.”

“Good job.” You told him.

He went to kiss you again, and you let him.

“So, wanna get back to practice?” You teased.

“No.” He said bluntly, his hand tangling around yours. “We're going home.”

𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — taglist (ask 2 be added): @mariaace , @stellas-starry-sillies13

𓆩⚝𓆪 — blue lock masterlist

[minuutvanverval]

Open Your Heart

description: things aren’t going as well as you thought they were between you and your boyfriend. one night, coming back from a night out with your friends, joost is blatantly ignoring you, and you snap.

words: 3k!

warnings: angst, fluff, rpf

a/n: based on the song ‘open your heart’ by europe! i love europe with all my heart :)) another sad fic bc i can’t seem to write anything else

<3

The rain had started soft,, but it had grown heavier as you walked, the dim streetlights reflecting in the puddles. The air smelled like wet concrete and cheap cigarettes. Laughter and muffled music from the bar down the road still echoed behind you both. Your arm was linked with Joost’s, fingers lightly grasping around the fabric of his jacket sleeve. He had both hands in his pockets, keeping himself warm in the cold november rain.

“And then - no joke - he looks at me, dead in the eyes, and says, ‘You know, you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of job.’ Like. What the fuck does that even mean? I just - that wasn’t the worst thing he said.”

Joost huffed a breath that could’ve been a laugh. Or a sigh. You couldn’t tell.

“I mean, I’ve been tattooing for six years,” you went on, voice rising, a little sharper than before. “People fly out for appointments. I don’t need some fucking walk-in telling me I’m ‘too pretty for my job’ or that ‘I’d be better staying at home serving a man.’”

Joost made a sound in his throat. Noncommittal. Distant. His gaze wasn’t on you. It was on the glistening road ahead as the rain started to fall harder. You slowed your pace just enough to make him notice.

“…you’re not even listening.”

“What?” His head jerked slightly. “I am.”

“You’re not...”

He looked at you then, blinking like he was only just realizing you’d been talking to him.

“I was just thinking-”

“Thinking?” You cut in, pulling your arm free. Your skin felt colder the moment you let go. “I was telling you about this dickhead and you were somewhere off in fucking space.”

He stopped walking. “Jezus, okay. I zoned out for a second.”

“It’s not you zoning out, Joost. It’s every time I try to talk about something that matters to me, you just… drift off. Or stare at your phone. Or change the subject.”

“That’s not true.”

“It isn’t…? What did I tell you the other day about the new apprentice?”

The silence was loud.

“Exactly.”

“Fuck, okay, I’m sorry I’m not great at remembering every fucking-”

“No, don’t do that,” You snapped, stepping back. Your voice cracked, slightly. “Don’t act like I’m asking for too much.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The wind shifted, carrying the rain sideways now. It crept beneath your collar, down your spine. Joost moved both hands in his jacket pockets and looked away.

You could see it in the way his shoulders rose - defensive. You knew that look. Knew the way he closed up when things got too serious. When the mood shifted from light and easy to something raw and real.

“Why is it so hard for you to just… be present?” You asked him, voice softening. “Why do I always feel like I’m talking to a fucking brick wall?”

His breath came out rough. “You’re not talking to a brick wall. I’m tired. I’ve got shit going on, too. I just don’t whine about every little thing that happens.”

That landed like a slap.

Your brows furrowed, lips parting slightly, a slow silence stretching out between you both. “Wow,” you whispered. “You think I’m whining?”

He looked at the floor. “I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did.” You stepped back again. “You think I’m being dramatic. That I care too much.”

“I didn’t say any of that.”

“Again, you didn’t have to.” You muttered.

“You know what I think?” Your voice trembled now, less with anger, more with heartbreak. “I think you’ve been pulling away from me for weeks. And I keep letting it slide because I told myself you were just stressed or busy or whatever. But this?” Your gestured between him and you. “This is just… unfair. Me trying. You drifting.”

Joost looked like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He just stood there, soaked and silent, raindrops on his glasses.

“I feel like I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. I… I needed you today. I needed you to hear me. What he said really hurt me. I wanted you to make it better...”

“I don’t know how to do that…” he admitted.

“Then why did you ask me to be your girlfriend? That’s - just… basic communication. If- if you can’t do that… I just-”

The pause that followed hurt. It was like… he wasn’t even trying.

“I’m gonna go,” you muttered quietly.

Joost frowned. “You don’t have to-”

“No, I- I’m gonna go.” Her voice wavered. “I can’t keep pretending this is okay. That I’m okay. I’m not.”

“Please don’t-”

You stepped back.

“I’m sorry, Joost. I-I’m done begging you to see me.”

You started walking. Rain poured harder now, soaking through your jacket, plastering your hair to your face, but you didn’t care. Your boots hit the pavement with purpose, sharp and steady, echoing in the wet night air. You didn’t look back.

He didn’t move for a long time. Just stood there with the weight of it all settling in. Eventually, he kept walking home. Shoulders hunched, soaked to the skin, his footsteps slower than before.

The rain didn’t let up. It turned colder, heavier, soaking through your jeans, your socks, everything. You kept walking, past the next block, past the glowing blur of the main traffic lights, past quiet apartments with curtains drawn and the hum of televisions behind windows. You didn’t even know where you were going. Your phone buzzed in your pocket - probably a message from one of the friends you’d left at the bar - but you didn’t check it. You didn’t care to. Every step hurt started to hurt a little more. Each one pulled at something heavy inside your chest. Like you were walking through water, dragging the weight of the conversation with you. The way his face looked when you started to turn away. How cold he must’ve been. How you could hear the silence between you louder than anything else around you. You hadn’t meant to explode. Not really. You just wanted him to listen. To care. And you knew he did - somewhere deep under all that distance and defensiveness. That was what made it worse. God, you’d never argued before. Maybe it was because you’d only been together just under a month. You never thought the first argument would hurt so much.

What if it’s something deeper? What if something deeper was going on with him, and you hadn’t cared to ask because you’d been so wrapped up with your shitty clients all week. What if you were the one being ignoring him? God, he was too sweet for you to be treating him like this. Too sweet.

You stopped.

Your feet moved before your mind caught up, like instinct, like your body knew where to go even if your thoughts hadn’t agreed. You turned on your heel, boots squelching, and started to walk.

Not home.

To him.

___

Joost’s apartment was dark from the outside. Third floor. Warm glow barely leaking through the edge of the curtains.

After you pulled yourself up the stairs, clothes heavy with rain, your hand hesitated in the air for longer than you wanted to admit before you knocked.

It was stupid. You shouldn’t have come. He probably didn’t even want to see you. You should’ve-

The door opened.

Joost stood there in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair a mess from the towel he’d probably dragged through it, a half-drunk glass of something in one hand - probably alcohol. He didn’t say anything.

You were soaked. Arms crossed tight over your chest, dripping on his welcome mat, hair clinging to your cheeks. Your lip trembled. - but not from the cold.

“I-“ Your voice cracked immediately. You looked down. “I’m r-really sorry.”

Still, he didn’t speak. Just stared at you, completely unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to blow up on you,” you whispered, eyes fixed on the stitching of your sleeve. “It wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have thrown it all at you like that, in that kind of weather - e-especially after we’d just had a night out. I just… I don’t know.” You sniffled. “I didn’t know how else to say it.”

The silence stretched just long enough to hurt before he stepped aside.

“Come in...” He muttered quietly.

You nodded, moving past him into the apartment. Warmth hit you like a wave, stinging your cold skin. You stood awkwardly in the entryway, shivering slightly, avoiding his eyes. Joost closed the door. Locked it. But still, he said nothing.

You peeled off your wet jacket and shoes, leaving them in a sad puddle near the mat where he’d pointed. Your socks left little prints on his floor. The living room was dim, only the kitchen light on. It was quiet except for the faint hum of the outside world.

“Bathroom, you’re dripping all over my floors.” He muttered.

You followed him wordlessly. The towel was already there, hanging messily on the rack like he’d used it recently. He pulled it down and stood in front of you.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. You expected him to speak. Maybe ask if you were okay. Maybe scold you for walking around like that in the cold. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out gently and pressed the towel to your hair.

You frowned.

The gesture was soft - shockingly so. He cupped the back of your head and slowly worked the towel through the strands, careful not to pull. His hands smelled like soap and faint cigarette smoke. You didn’t realize how much you missed being cared for by him until just then. Joost still didn’t say a word. You felt yourself trembling - not from the cold anymore. From guilt. From the weight of everything unspoken.

When he was done, he handed you a clean hoodie and some sweatpants from the bedroom. You took them without question. Changed behind the half-closed bathroom door while he stood in the hallway.

When you came out, he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of thinking about how to fix it. He pointed back into the bathroom. You followed him back into the bathroom, the towel still in his hand. Your reflection startled you. Your eyes were pink and glassy, your face pale. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to breathe steady.

Then you felt it - his fingers, ever so carefully gathering your hair again, towel drying the ends.

And that was it. You broke.

Tears welled up faster than you could blink them away. They dripped silently, slowly down your cheeks, your sleeves. You clutched the edge of the counter, head down, trying not to sob.

Joost frowned. “Hey…” he said softly, and that single word undid you completely.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking open. “I was just so tired. I was hurt and I didn’t know how to say it without sounding selfish, and I shouldn’t have left like that. I shouldn’t have walked away.”

You turned, looking at him through blurry eyes. His reflection was frowning, but not in anger. Concern. Sadness. Guilt, maybe.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit,” you added. “I just - sometimes I don’t feel heard. And I don’t know how to ask you for what I need without sounding like I’m too much.”

Joost reached out again, slower this time, wiping a tear off of your cheek with the edge of the towel. He looked at you like he was trying to find the words. Trying and failing.

“You’re not too much,” he said finally, barely above a whisper. “I’m just not enough sometimes. And I… I shouldn’t told you I wasn’t doing great.”

Your chest ached.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t care. I do. About all of it. About you. I just… I don’t know how to share my pain with you just yet.”

“I know. I’m sorry for - not being more understanding.”

He wrapped the towel up and threw it somewhere in the direction of the laundry basket. “I’ve been in my head a lot,” he admitted. “Stupid shit. Work. Music. Pressure. I didn’t even realize how didtsnt I was being until tonight.”

You nodded, sniffling. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was starting to fall out of it or something,” he said, like he thought it was a silly thing to think, voice rough. “Because I’m not. I still feel the same. I just… forgot to show it.“

You let out a shaky breath. “I need you to meet me halfway. You’ve gotta talk to me about these things, sweetie…” You move a hand to his face, stroking it softly, comforting him through his vulnerable moment.

He looked at you then, properly. ��I can… I just… I haven’t done this in a long time.”

You studied him, waiting to see if he meant it.

He took a breath. “I will. Honest.”

And then he reached for you again - this time with no towel, no barrier. His hands cradled your face softly, thumbs brushing where your tears had fallen, as if it physically hurt him to see you crying. It was the first time he’d seen you cry. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

“I’m also sorry, for not listening. Regardless of what’s going on in my head. For making you feel small. You’re not. Not to me. You’re always the loudest person in the room - and I… I mean that in the best way.” He almost laughed.

You laughed through tears. “You’re really bad at compliments.”

“I know.” He smiled faintly. “But I’m trying. My English still isn’t perfect.”

You smiled up at him. “That’s all I wanted.”

There was a long pause. Then he pulled you in, slowly, letting his arms wrap around your shoulder as yours found his waist. You buried your face in his chest, as he rest his cheek on your head, cradling it softly. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his hoodie like you were anchoring yourself.

“I don’t want to lose this,” you whispered.

“You’re not going to.”

“Even if I drip all over your floors again?”

He smiled. “Especially then. Little footprints all over my apartment. So sweet...”

You stood like that for a long time. So long that the rain had slowed, and started up again.

“I’m still cold,” you muttered.

Joost pulled back just enough to look at you. “Come to bed. Please…”

You nodded, heart swelling.

He led you into the bedroom, flicked off the harsh overhead light and switched on the small lamp by the nightstand. You crawled under the blanket while he tossed your wet clothes into the laundry basket. He slid in beside you, laying on his side, opening his arms to you. You moved closer carefully, and nestled against his chest. His hand immediately found his way under the hoodie he’d given you, stroking your waist softly. Despite how cold you’d been, you still felt warm to him.

You lay there quietly, his arms wrapped around you. His hand moved in slow, absentminded strokes along your waist; needed the contact. The rise and fall of his chest under your cheek was steady, grounding, as was his comforting heartbeat. Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped. It tapped against the window in a gentle, constant hush, a quiet lullaby for two of you. You both loved the rain.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

And maybe it wasn’t perfect again yet, but his arms were around you, and you were warm again, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like he wasn’t somewhere else.

He was here. With you. And that was enough.

[colorfulrook]

100x100 Blurbfest

[A/n]: For my lovely and patient @soft-dots #6. "They are staring because you look amazing" the first of your request! Hope you will like this blurb!! Love you all - Rook

You tug at your clothes for the third time in the last ten minutes. The fabric feels tighter, itchy, it makes you feel hyperaware of every inch of your body.

It’s not that you regret coming. Not exactly, it was a pleasurable party afterall. The guild had decided to throw a celebration after a particularly brutal S-Rank raid, and everyone insisted you attend. You didn’t want to be the downer, after all, the job had been a success on every front.

Still, as you stand just off to the side of the rented lounge area, drink in hand and fingers twitching against the hem of your outfit, you start to wish you’d stayed home.

Eyes keep landing on you. Quick glances, longer stares, subtle whispers. You're not used to this type of attention.

You shift again, arms crossing over your chest as if trying to shrink into yourself, heart thumping louder than the bass of the music. You glance toward the bar, searching for something familiar—someone.

And there he is.

Jinwoo. Leaning against the bar like he’s straight out of a commercial, black button-up rolled to his elbows, tie undone and hanging loose around his neck. His eyes catch yours instantly, as if he’s been looking for you the whole time.

He doesn’t waste a second.

Before you can disappear into the bathroom or behind a velvet curtain, he’s at your side. Close enough that his presence drapes over you like a shield.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice low and deep beneath the buzz of conversation and music.

You blink temporarily stunned "What? Yeah, I’m fine." Not at all, the shrimp you had earlier threatened to come up.

He gives you a look. The kind that says, You’re not fine, and we both know it.

You glance at the crowd again, voice quieter now. “People keep staring and I don't know why... I feel like an esotic animal in a zoo.”

Jinwoo follows your gaze for a moment, then lets out a soft hum. “They’re staring,” he says, turning back to you with the faintest smile, “because you look amazing.”

Your cheeks warm. “Liar.”

“I’m not, I would never lie to you.” he says. “You look incredible. Really.”

You scoff lightly, trying not to melt under his gaze. “I look ridiculous.”

“You don’t,” he insists, his voice firmer now but still gentle. “You look like someone who deserves to be noticed. Admired.”

Your breath catches. The sincerity in his tone leaves no room for doubt. And the way he’s looking at you—it’s not pity. It’s awe, it's like he is seeing you for the first time.

Or maybe he always has, and you’re the one finally noticing.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you mutter, half-hiding behind your glass. “You walk into a room and just… belong.”

Jinwoo leans in slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. “I don’t, not really. But I pretend until I do.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? Pretend?”

“All the time,” he says, a small grin forming. “You think I wasn’t nervous the first time I showed up in a suit after the System thing? I didn’t even know if my shirt was on right.”

A quiet laugh escapes you. He smiles wider at the sound.

“There it is,” he says. “That’s better.”

You roll your eyes, but the tension in your shoulders eases.

Jinwoo pauses, then holds out a hand.

You stare at it. “What?”

“Dance with me.”

“What?!”

He chuckles. “Just one song.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Me neither.” He tilts his head. “But we can not dance together. Just… stand in the middle of the room and sway like idiots. That way people will stop staring and just assume we’re too attractive to care.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s your plan?”

“It’s a good plan.”

“…You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to hide the smile that wants to form. Eventually, you place your hand in his.

He squeezes it once, warm and reassuring. As he leads you gently into the crowd, he doesn’t let go. Even as you fumble and stepped on his feet through the first few steps, he keeps his eyes on you. Not judging. Just... being there.

And slowly, the world narrows down to just the two of you.

The music fades.

The stares blur.

And you start to believe him.

Maybe, just maybe… you do look amazing.

Especially when he’s looking at you like that.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

oh this is my new favorite question.

gut instinct: i want to riff off the plot twist of bury your gays by chuck tingle. like........... here's my vision, okay, bear with me.

there are two jason todds. the audience does not know there are two jason todds. at first, it is very hard to tell them apart. they seem like the same person. but as the story progresses, "he" seems to be getting more and more chaotic, sometimes even directly contradicting himself. as we near the climax their personalities start to WILDLY diverge even though by looks they appear exactly the same: one is focused, competent, a predator on the hunt. the other is less so--more emotionally driven, maybe. less sure of himself, using less lethal methodology. maybe a bit passive or submissive to batman/nightwing/oracle/batgirl/the batfam, or seemingly unstable (moments of fury, lashes out), or both.

critically, the first is, upon examination, closer to early red hood characterization. think under the red hood, not full villain but definitely anti-hero, maybe some of the rebirth rhato (i refuse to use new52 rhato, get that out of here) except he's less focused on batman and maybe has a bit more chill under his belt. the second one is closer to more current stuff: think the knight terrors robin issues, task force z, gotham war.

there's room in here for some silliness. maybe #2 walks out of the cave and dick immediately gets a call from #1, or they have a bit of a "diner scene from emperor's new groove" moment. one of the jasons asks for a grisly case file, and someone gives it to the other one, who just stares at it for a moment like "uh, thanks...?" yknow, that sort of stuff.

but then, at the climax, two things happen: one, the jason #2 does something VERY out of character for the other iteration. maybe botches something that UTRH jason/jason #1 would NEVER. maybe lets someone go (joker, maybe) instead of killing them like OG red hood would. and two... the first red hood, who has been hunting the second, CATCHES UP.

so now, at the climax, you suddenly have two jason todd's on panel, and you learn that one has very clearly been hunting down the other. the batfam, who has been with #2 for most of this time, is startled to find another jason, and demands to know which is the fake, probably assuming that it's #1 (he burst in like a wild thing, guns blazing, after all, and they've been WITH #2). #2 tries to insist that he's the real one, basically pleading for his place in the family, telling them to kill #1.

"that's dumb," the real jason says, and shoots it in the head.

everyone is shocked, and they all square up to fight #1. batman in particular is on him FAST, angry as hell (think the fight after jason shot penguin in RHATO). but before much damage can get done, one of the magic users (zatanna/constantine/maybe someone from the all caste) comes rushing in, late, and expresses relief that jason managed to kill the tulpa.

everyone stops, confused, and turns to the body. the body that has just dissolved into a pile of magical dust/ash. and there's jason, staring at them all, wondering how the HELL they thought that thing was him.

the run would tie up with jason chilling at home. dick or tim or someone comes through the window, maybe to apologize and/or to ask where the tulpa CAME from, how they could have gotten so mixed up. and jason shrugs, and just goes, "yeah, dunno, but you guys do a great job of not listening to me so maybe that has something to do with it :/"

and then he grins, sharp and wicked as his kris, and says, "make no mistake, next time i see the clown i won't hesitate."

...this would be, i think, a way to integrate and/or explore the sometimes-contradictory characterizations jason has had over the years. i don't know if it's possible to COMPLETELY meld them, or even to explain the difference/all the events that have happened that seem to contradict each other. but! i think this could be a silly, shenanigans-rich way to take a deep dive into the whole mess.

at the very least, it could cause new and fun problems for canon :)

Serious question: DC has asked you (yes you 🫵) to write a 10 issue Jason Todd comic run. No conditions or stipulations, any era, any supporting cast, any villain. What do you do?

[toomuchracket]

it's your birthday (office nerd matty x reader fluff)

this is teeny tiny but very sweet and it's also for my sweet friend @wreckedandpolemic i love you very much!! <3

“these shoes were a mistake.”

matty squeezes your hand, turning to look at you; when he drops a kiss to the side of your head, you feel him smiling against your skin. “trust me, darling, they were not.”

you pout. “but they're hurting me.”

“oh, baby,” your boyfriend leans down to kiss you quickly, hands cupping your jaw even after he pulls away. you smile at him, and his cheeks go your favourite shade of pink. “almost home, yeah? five minutes longer, and then you can just lie down and let me continue to indulge your every whim for the rest of the night, alright?”

“dirty.”

“well, no,” matty blushes even harder - you don't miss the way his cheeks are twitching, though, a smile threatening to break out onto that gorgeous face of his. “not necessarily, i mean - obviously i would never, ever say no to doing sexy stuff with you, not at all, i just meant that i’d also, like, put your favourite films on and make you hot chocolate and give you massages and-”

“matty, sweetheart, breathe,” you bring your index finger to his lips, softly stopping his breathless monologue and bringing him back to earth. “i know what you meant, angel. just couldn't resist the innuendo, that's all,” you clasp your hands behind his neck, heart fluttering at the sight of him all beautiful and moonlit and looking adoringly at you. “you're so good to me, you know? today's been perfect.”

“s'the least i could do, darling,” matty kisses the bridge of your nose. “lovely girls deserve lovely birthdays.”

“god, you're so cute. where on earth did i find you?”

he hums happily, leaning in to kiss you quickly before tucking you under his arm and continuing to walk towards your flat. “it is actually kinda mental that we met at work, isn't it?”

“you think?”

“well, you don't necessarily expect to start a new job and meet the most beautiful woman in the world there,” he drops another kiss onto your head, as natural as breathing; his little casual displays of affection are one of the things you love most about matty. “let alone falling in requited love with her and buying a flat with her and adopting her dog as your own.”

you laugh, leaning in to kiss his neck - chastely, but still positioned strategically enough to make his breath hitch. “you had no choice in that last bit, you know. maggie loves you more than she loves anyone else,” the wind picks up slightly, and you snuggle further into matty to keep the cold away. “she takes after me with that one.”

“and with getting bored during star wars.”

“oh, christ, not this again,” you sigh, sliding your keys from your pocket when you turn onto you and matty’s street. “i wasn't bored, i just knew what was happening afterwards,” you smirk, leaning against the wall of your apartment building while matty takes your keys and unlocks the door. “that was a good birthday, wasn't it?”

“possibly the most rhetorical question ever asked,” matty scoffs, leading you inside and calling the lift down. “second-best you've ever looked, in that outfit.”

you frown. “second-best? what's the best i've ever looked, then?”

matty beams. “right now.”

“oh, you're such a sap,” you groan; internally, though, your heart is aglow and there are butterflies in your stomach and you're pretty sure you can hear alex turner singing baby i'm yours somewhere in the back of your brain. and you know matty knows how you really feel, but you kiss him anyway, just to reiterate it. “but i love you very much.”

“and i love you,” he kisses you back, passionate and perfect, tugging you into the lift and into his arms, murmuring into your ear while he presses the button for your floor. “have you had a good birthday, darling?”

you smile into his shoulder. “the best.”

[selanaris]

DPXDC "Lurks in Shadows" pt4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TW: blood, cult summonings, sacrifices, references to prostitution and trafficking, canon character deaths & undeaths

Two and Half Hours Before Midnight - Crime Alley Gotham - Street Kids’ Hideout

Jason Todd stood at the alley entrance of the street kids. The kids had information on his missing kid’s case. What he had so far was 23 missing kids. All of the kids were male between ages 13-17. Not all of them went missing in Crime Alley, but all of them were regulars at the shelters and soup kitchens here. Every single missing kid was homeless, fostered, or in a bad home. Kids who go missing are ignored by the system, the police, and the adults in their lives.

The case goes back two years, and the spacing is sporadic, but the timeline matches one kid a month. All the dates they were last seen done within the week before a full moon. Immediately, Jason thinks there is some kind of deadline. There are never signs of struggle, so most likely trafficking.

Despite that, the full moon is tonight, and there has not been a change. The last two missing went missing together, and he had no idea if that meant this month was taken, but he was going to be sure. So now Jason Todd was talking to Su and Halfbit of the street kids.

“We ain’t seen nun of the strange guys from last time. I saw one of Black Masks’ guys walk in and out of the Alley. Since they got Chaz and Roman, we’ve been staying closer to the fort. None of the tots are allowed out of the fort, and all the other bases are closed. We go in packs of three now.” Halfbit said. He was a 14-year-old with battered blue and grey clothes. Jason knew him. Well, he knew his mother, who worked three jobs to pay for Halfbit’s medicine. “No one’s getting snatched on my watch. And when Hood gets Roman back, I can show him how I took care of everyone.”

Jason nodded, lost in thought. Halfbit seemed hopeful that it was over, but he could not feed that hope, only reassured him. He was pulled from his musing at a little tug on his pants. It was 8-year-old Su. “You an’ Hood are gonna find my brother…” She said. Su, also known as Susan, was a little spitfire. She lived in a foster home with her older brother. Her brother was 17 and one of the first kids to go missing two years ago. She was the one to set Jason on the trail of missing kids.

Jason knelt to Su and ruffled her tangled hair. “Yeah. I’ll find him. I promise,” he said with a strained smile. He didn’t want her hopes up, but it was the only way to get her to no go looking on her own like she did when he first found her a year and a half ago.

Jason stood up and sighed, “Keep an eye out, and call me if you see anything.” he handed Halfbit a paper with a burner number, fifty dollars in fives, and some coins for the few payphones that the city was too lazy to take down. “Stay safe, kids,” he said and gave them a two-finger salute, to which he could hear the shuffling of the hidden kids in the shadows. Jason smiled and made his way out of the hideout.

He rode his motorcycle back to one of his safe houses and got changed. It was time for Red Hood’s Patrol.

Red Hood patrolled for a good thirty minutes, mostly checking up on the girls, delivering a few meals, then beat the shit out of some rats that think they can rule. It was all going well. Until something specific popped up. His boys sent him a message. A high-end black car had entered Crime Alley. This can mean a lot of things. The least likely was that some idiot took a wrong turn, but that does happen in his experience. The second option, which is the most likely, is that new money is here to pay or kidnap the girls. Either the outcome or something new, Jason was going to keep a strong eye on this. He revved his cycle and went to the last sighting.

He did not like what he saw. He found the black car, definitely a nice model, and it was parked only a few blocks from the street kids’ hideout. Hood parked across the street from the car. There was a man at the front of the alley with one of the girls around him. Jason went over to the car to look inside while the cop was distracted. He noticed that it was empty, with clean leather seats, a disposable coffee cup with some dark stains around the mouth of the lid, and the biggest key, was a GCPD jacket laid across the back seat. Jason would have preferred traffickers he could punch over Gotham pigs. If he was lucky, he would be allowed to punch this pig.

Hood noticed the night worker had walked away. The cop had immediately turned towards the alley, the hideout. Hood wasn’t letting that happen. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said through his modulator.

He saw the cop freeze up and slowly turn around his a hint of fear in his eyes. Quickly, the expression became tired as he sighed. He looked like a bad Constantine imitation, and Hood couldn’t hold back his smirk under his mask when the cop cursed. “Yeah, Shit is right. What are you doing in Crime Alley? Especially in that.” he jabbed his thumb to the car that screamed for someone to jack his tires. He could already hear the street kids preparing their tools as he took another step into the alley.

“I was dropping off my brother, but he just walked off the moment we parked.” That was a big load of shit if Hood ever heard. Who just drops their brother off in Crime Alley? Did he miss his first day of the goonion meeting? He was about to call out the cop’s bluff when he spoke again under his breath, “Whoever said brothers were great to have lied.”

Now, Hood was a bit more inclined to believe him. But there was the expression about it, the stress and care in his eyes. This wasn’t an older brother. The cop looked to be in his twenties, and he seemed new to keeping a troublesome brother, which would make his brother a kid at least. Jason understood older and younger brothers in a plethora of ages. He snorted a laugh that was picked up by his modulator. “Why the hell did you bring a kid to Crime Alley? That’s just stupid.”

The cop seemed to take that as some kind of connection as his body relaxed, and he walked further into the alley. He seemed to hesitate and look back at Hood before continuing down the alley. “He said he was investigating something.” That piqued Red Hood’s interest, and he straightened up his posture.

The only thing worth investigating out here was the missing kids… Hood tensed up and started to raise his voice in anger. “Uhuh, and is something that has to do with my boys going missing?” he growled.

Red Hood saw the recognition in the cop’s eyes. He could feel the pit rise as his vision slowly tinted to green. “You know about the missing children?” said the cop. Red Hood took a deep breath and focused on the facts. The missing kids were never reported, and those that were reported never got filed. The only way this man could know about this was if the police knew about it and ignored it for two years, or they were involved. This line of thought only caused the green vision to intensify. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He pulled out his gun and placed it right against the man’s head, and turned off the safety. The only thing preventing him from blowing out the pig’s brains all over the wall was his trigger finger being held tightly around the barrel of the gun.

At this point, Red Hood was barely paying attention as he went into interrogation mode. His vision was full of green, and he was sure that his eyes would be glowing under his mask. Hood interrogated the cop on the facts. 23 missing kids all in his Alley. When he asked about them, the cop only said that he was also investigating. Hood was not really listening to the explanation. None of it made sense to him, and it all felt like bullshit. He claimed he was a victim, but he didn’t even match the targets at all.

Then suddenly, the green cleared from his eyes the moment he heard it, “I am telling the truth. I am sorry. They are dead… Eddie the Machete has been killing them all. 36 victims.”

Dead, all the kids were dead… Not only that, but there were 36 victims. Jason only knew the names and disappearances of 23. How many kids had died, and no one knew about it? How many years had this been going on?

Red Hood no longer saw anything else but green. He screamed and cursed as he kicked something loudly into the alley's wall. He screamed at the cop to get out of his territory. He threw in some threats before punching an obvious dent into the brick wall on his way out. He got on his motorcycle and sped away. He needed to calm down, then he needed a plan on how to find this Eddie and make him regret ever existing.

Jason drove around for a few hours, stopping petty crimes and getting the rage out of his body by slamming criminals’ faces to the ground. He stopped back at the street kid’s hideout to double-check on them before he went out again. He saw Su and Halfbit. Su ran up to Red Hood and grabbed his leg while he was still on the bike.

“I saw him! I saw him!” She yelled while tugging his pants, “You have to go after him. Those meanies in red attacked us and took his book. Then… Then… He said he was gonna go after them… and…”

Hood held his hands up and then reached to pick her up to his lap. “Slow down, Su. What happened? Who did you see?”

“Jack!” she yelled, and it caused Jason to hesitate a bit. That was her brother. Who the cop said was dead. “I saw my big brother. The meanies were gonna take us, then Jack showed up… and he had that book. I saw him make a big fire with his hands! They were fighting, and ‘Bit took us to hide. But… But I saw them get close and take his book. It was very loud. ‘Bit helped me count to a hundred… then the sounds were gone. Jack found us, and he helped us back to the hideout. He said he was gonna go after the big meanies that took his book. You have to find my brother!” Su yelled at the end.

She was convinced that whoever found her was Jack. Red did not want to be the one to tell her that Jack was gone. Eventually, he would have to tell her, but for now, someone did save them, and then got in trouble. That he can work with. “Ok, Su, I’m going to go after him. I promise to bring your savior back.”

She looked at him determinedly and held out her pinkie. Hood did not want to do this, not because it was childish, but because he knew he could not keep this promise. But he had no choice. He wrapped his pinkie around her’s and she nodded, then smiled. She moved to slide off his leg and back to the ground and ran off. Halfbit looked back up at the vigilante. “Jack’s dead… I… I know what I saw… That… thing had Jack’s face… But he saved us… so do what you want with him… I need to prepare Su for her heartbreak… but not today…” he boy said and looked at the ground. He nodded to Jason and ran off to the alley.

Hood sighed, took off his helmet, and looked down at his hands. He had no clues, no support, no evidence… Just grief. He ran his hands over his face, then suddenly felt paper rub between his hands and face. He pulled his hands away from his dominoed face and saw a bright green sticky note. The note had an address in north Gotham and a little message. “This may be what you are looking for.” And wasn’t that vague. It was labeled with the signature ‘C.W.’ Whoever that was?

Red Hood did not have time to dwell too much on it. He ripped the address off of the note and threw the bottom half of the note into the trash where the back half revealed itself to say, “Please Recycle.” And Jason hated this CW even more now. He started up his motorcycle and placed his helmet back on, and drove like hell. He needed to get to North Gotham fast.

The address was some bright pink cafe in North Gotham. He eventually got there about fifteen minutes before midnight. He was going to park his cycle up front, but he paused when he saw a specific yellow underside cape. Jason pulled around the corner of an unrented shop beside the location, and Damian dropped down from the fire escape. “What are you doing here, T- Hood?” Robin said with his usual grump.

Jason sighed and pulled out the torn sticky note with an address, “Following a lead. What about you, brat?”

Robin scoffed and pulled out an identical green sticky note that had the same address on it. “Obviously, I was also following a lead for my case. Tch. Your backup is not required this far from your territory,” he spat.

But Red Hood was not paying attention to the preteen. He was leaning over and reading the sticky note. “Who the hell is the Ghost King?”

[goodgirlk]

Blue Eyes and the Lone Star Sky- Chapter 3

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Female OC

Warnings: Language, slight angst, suggestive themes

WC: 8.4k

You are going to kill it, I promise

Tatum read the text from Paige for the fourth time that day as she parked outside of her parents house. Paige had left early that morning following their movie night and Tatum had a huge day ahead of her, celebrating her birthday with her family and telling them about the twins. When she had told her mom that Noah was no longer coming, she was met with confusion but luckily her dad had arrived home and her mom hung up quickly after, leaving her no time to explain herself.

Now, as she walks to the front door of her childhood home, she feels her stomach turning. “Hey sweetheart, you look beautiful!” Her dad says, pulling her in for a tight hug and kissing her head.

“Thanks dad!” She smiles brightly, entering the house and placing her bag down in the living room. 

“Your mom said Noah isn’t coming, is that right?” He asks, the two of them walking to the kitchen where the rest of the family sat, her mom getting the last of the food ready for dinner. 

“Yeah we uhh-” Tatum cut herself off, not wanting to spill the news yet. After a second of thinking however, she decided now is the best time to say it. “We actually broke up almost a month ago. A lot happened and I just haven’t been ready to talk about it yet.”

She could feel her eyes welling as she thought about that fateful night, remembering the anger in his eyes as he screamed at her. Quickly wiping her tears away, she felt her younger brother Brandon giving her a hug, silently comforting her. With his presence by her side and her younger sister Naomi holding her hand, she decided she would also tell them about the pregnancy, hoping to not ruin dinner in the process.

“I guess I also should let y’all know I’m pregnant with twins.” She whispered, hoping that if she didn’t say it too loud they wouldn’t react.

Immediately she felt her brother squeeze her into a strong hug, congratulating her as their sister joined in, the two elated at the news. As she pulled back from the hug she glanced at her parents, her dad silently crying at the news, joy on his face as he made his way over to her, her mom on the other hand had not reacted at all yet. 

“Congratulations honey!” Her dad stated, holding her close. “I can’t believe my baby is going to be a mom.”

“Congrats baby.” She heard from her mom. She was expecting this, a soft response while everyone was around, but knew it would be too good to be true, her true reaction would come out later when it was just then. Her mom always liked to keep the peace but was quick to let her know her thoughts when they were alone.

The remainder of dinner went well, easy conversation about how school was going for her siblings, her brother planning to play 7v7 this summer with his high school team, sister ready to spend her days by the pool with her friends tanning. Their lives seem so easy compared to Tatum’s reality of growing twins but she wouldn’t have it any other way for them, happy they got to enjoy themselves. Once they had cake and celebrated her birthday together, her parents sent her siblings off to get ready for bed since they had school the next day.

“So twins huh?” Her mom asked as she finished placing the last dish in the dishwasher. “How is that going to work with Noah?”

Tatum sighed, ready for the judgement to come out. “Yeah twins due in December. He said he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the kids so it's all me now.”

“You can’t really expect to be raising twins alone, Tatum, really? How is that going to work with your job?”

“I work from home and can make my own schedule mom, plus it is better to raise them alone with him.” She stated, voice dropping with the last statement. She had never told her parents how controlling he was or how he treated her in private, playing the perfect boyfriend card every time they were near.

“I just think you are making a mistake. Maybe you should move closer to home so you can have help.”

“Mom I like my place and my friends in the city, I’m not moving home at the first inconvenience. Maybe if shit hits the fan, sure, but that isn’t my plan A.” She stated, hoping it would end the conversation. It isn’t even my plan Z if we are being honest, she thought, hoping to never move home. She escaped a controlling relationship already this year, she didn’t need to move into one willingly.

“Okay well we will see. You should start going to church more, meet a nice young man to help you raise the kids, they need a father in their life if Noah isn’t going to do it.” 

Tatum rolled her eyes, her mom always one to tell her what she should do and how she should live her life. “The kids will be fine with me mom, at least they have a parent that loves them and wants them, not someone who is there by default.”

Luckily for her, her siblings rejoined them downstairs, stopping the conversation from going much further. She talked about sports with her brother for a while, him filling her in on how football has been going and how he thinks his team will do next year. Her phone flashed, Paige’s contact showing up with a facetime. They had planned to talk after dinner and it wasn’t until now that she realized how long she had been talking with her mom. Brandon looked down, seeing the contact photo for Paige, the polaroid taken at her birthday dinner, the two of them smiling widely, shocked at what he saw.

“Bro, is that Paige Bueckers? Like THE Paige Bueckers?” He asked, having his fangirl moment on the couch.

Tatum laughed, forgetting she didn’t tell them about her new best friend. “Oh yeah she moved in next door to me so we are good friends now.”

“Y’all look more than friends in that photo.” Brandon said under his breath, Tatum quickly slapped him in response as he laughed.

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, “She is a good friend, nothing more.”

“Sure, sure.” Brandon responded, lifting his arms in the air in surrender. 

Tatum’s phone dinged quickly after missing the call, a text from Paige about the lack of response.

You good ma? Call me when you’re free

“Ma? Definitely more than friends.” Brandon laughed, hopping off the couch before Tatum could hit him again.

Yeah, just about to leave my parents, I will call when I get to my car :)

Tatum said her goodbyes, pulling her siblings in for a tight hug and kiss on their heads, regardless of how much taller they got than her. She gave her parents a hug and retreated to her car, ready to get home and unwind. Also ready to talk with Paige about everything her mom said, needing to rant about just how judgemental her mom can be.

Once in her car and on her way back to her apartment, Tatum chose Paige’s name from her contacts, the phone connecting almost immediately. 

“Wow, a normal call and not a facetime? What, you don’t wanna see me no more?” Paige asked, her smile clear through her voice.

“I’m driving Paige.” Tatum laughed, rolling her eyes. “Plus I have two extra passengers along for the ride that I have to be safe for.” Her hand quickly found her stomach, rubbing lightly at the small bump as she thought about her babies. “How is it being back home?”

“It’s good ma. Got to see my family today when we landed and they’re coming out to the game tomorrow.” 

They talked for the remainder of the drive home about how the flight was and Paige’s nerves for the game, steering clear of the talk about Tatum’s family until she was home. They both knew it would be a long talk and Paige wanted to make sure Tatum was home where she could let her emotions out, not worried for her safety during the drive.

Paige could hear when Tatum made it to her apartment, the now familiar jingle of her keys as she unlocked her front door sounding. Knowing she was now home safe, she clicked the button to facetime Tatum.

Laughing at how quick Paige facetimed once she got home, Tatum answered, smiling at the blonde. “Someone is eager.” She laughed, making her way inside and heading to her room to change.

“Can you blame me? I wanna see your pretty face.” Paige smiled, enjoying the blush that crept up Tatum’s chest. “Now lemme see that outfit you have on before you change.”

Tatum set the phone down on her vanity, stepping back to give Paige a spin, her yellow sundress swaying from the motion. Paige was in awe at her beauty, her curls falling perfectly over her shoulder and makeup glowing. She took a quick screenshot, wanting to capture the raw beauty of Tatum. “You look good. Have to pull that dress out again sometime this summer.” Paige stated.

Tatum smiled earnestly at the compliment. “Thank you P.”

“Well how did it go?” Paige asked, ready to give the brunette the space to unwind.

“Mom said I should quote ‘go to church more and meet a nice young man to help you raise the kids’ and that they are going to need a father in their life without Noah there. I just don’t understand why she is acting like this.” Tatum set her phone down on her dresser facing the ceiling as she began to change into her pajamas. “I get she wants me to live this picture perfect life but can she not be happy for me for two fucking seconds? I told her I was pregnant and she gave a short ‘congrats baby.’ I know this is what I expected but for once I wanted to be surprised by her. Oh yeah! She also told me to move home so I can have help but that will never happen, trust me.”

“Oof that’s rough. I’m sorry you had to hear that from her. I think the babies will be fine, they have you and an amazing group of aunties in your friends, they will be just as loved as they would have if Noah was in the picture. Plus, he is a piece of shit Tatum, you are doing them a favor by never putting them in danger with him.” 

“Thank you. I just wish she could be proud of me. She has always found faults in what I choose to do, mad I moved away from home, mad when I stopped working an office job, hell she was mad when I started dating Noah because he wasn’t from one of their rich friends' children. I have never been good enough and I worry I never will be.” Her voice broke, the tears beginning to flow heavily as she thought about all the ways her mom has been disappointed in her over the years.

“Hey don’t cry ma. You are an amazing person and you’re strong as hell. Who gives a fuck if she approves of everything, if you are happy, do it! Don’t follow their guidance just because they are your parents, do what satisfies you and live your life with your head held high. I told you already, even if they don’t want to support you, you have me by your side and I will make sure to have your back as long as you let me.”

Tatum cried quietly for a few minutes longer, enjoying that Paige gave her the space to feel her feelings fully. She hated that she would have to suppress everything when she was with Noah and she was thankful for the change. Once finished, she looked back at the screen, laughing quietly as she saw Paige watching her through her moment. “I’m sorry you had to witness that, I’m an ugly ass crier.”

Paige laughed at this, taken aback by the statement. “Nah you look beautiful ma.” 

Tatum smiled, then remembering her brother’s comments, paired with the comments of her friends from her birthday dinner, she laughed again. “My brother and friends think we are fucking.” She blurted out, watching the shocked expression and blush that adorned Paige’s face as she heard the comment.

“I mean we could…” Paige smiled, rubbing her hands together as she looked into the camera slyly. 

“Shut up Paige.” Tatum laughed. “Anyways thank you again for listening to me tonight. I’ll let you go so you can rest before your game tomorrow. Good luck, I will be watching from home!”

“Good night Tatum. I will text you when I can tomorrow!” Paige answered.

“Good night P.” Tatum smiled, ending the call.

~~~

Tatum found herself added into a group chat with Azzi and Paige, the girls discussing the upcoming Wings game in Connecticut the following week.

Tatum! You’re coming to Connecticut for the game, right?!

Tatum smiled at the text from Azzi, she had been contemplating attending the game since meeting the girls when they were in Dallas, excited to see them again. She hadn’t fully made up her mind about the trip, no flight, ticket, or hotel room booked yet making the trip a lot less of a reality at the moment. 

Girl I have literally nothing planned for it yet. Like no flight, no hotel, I don’t even have a ticket for the game yet. Let me see and I’ll let you know

Paige! How dare you leave our girl hanging like that?

Tatum laughed at this, suddenly feeling the need to defend herself. She could buy her own ticket and everything, just hadn’t gotten around to it in the craziness of the pregnancy and her parents

Azzi I’m grown, I can get this myself. I’ve just been lazy

Nah give me 10 minutes, I’ll get you hooked up ma

Paige responded quickly and Tatum laughed when she saw her phone light up with Paige’s contact almost immediately after.

“You didn’t tell me you wanted to go ma or else I woulda booked this for you before today!” Paige exclaimed, more flustered at Azzi calling her out than the situation.

Tatum laughed at her flustered state. “Paige for real, I got this, I just hadn’t thought about it much until she brought it up.”

“Nah I am already working on booking your flight, I got to support my girl before I look like an asshole for making you pay yourself.”

Tatum’s heart clenched at Paige's words, my girl, she thought, don’t be crazy she doesn’t mean it like that. Tatum shut herself down quickly, ignoring the way her heart hurt as she thought of Paige with someone else.

“Fine but next time I get everything myself.” Tatum stated, staying firm on her quest to be independent post breakup.

“Sure.” Paige shrugged, knowing she would put up a fight to cover the cost for Tatum when they traveled again. “Aight looks like you’re good, you should get an email with all the information in a few minutes. Hey I gotta go to practice though so I will talk to you when I get back?”

“Of course. Have fun!” 

~~~

Tatum found herself in the hotel lobby with Azzi, the girls waiting for their Uber to arrive so they could make it to the game to support Paige. It had been a fun day so far for the girls, getting to see Paige for a few hours while she got ready for the game and then spending the next few hours with Azzi cycling through outfits until she found the perfect one. 

Her bump was showing a bit more now, having gone from looking bloated the week prior to a true bump at this point. She decided to wear a simple outfit, a pair of black shorts and a jersey Paige had bought her so she could support her, stating she played better when Tatum had her name on her back. 

They arrived at the game quickly and found their way to the seats, Azzi taking pride in introducing Tatum to the rest of the UConn team in attendance. The game was exciting, Paige having her best game yet and the team winning by 12. Once it was done, the group made their way down to congratulate Paige, Tatum staying back a bit to give her a chance to catch up with her friends. After talking with them for a few minutes, Paige looked around for Tatum, her face lighting up when she saw the shorter girl in her jersey.

She made her way over to Tatum, bringing the girl in for a hug once she was close enough. “I told you I’d play better with you in that jersey.” She smiled, ignoring the looks from her friends as she and Tatum embraced, tugging slightly at the collar of Tatum’s jersey. “Gotta have you wear it to all the games now.”

“Maybe I should.” Tatum smiled back, pulling away from Paige at the sound of KK’s voice, suddenly remembering where they were.

“Bro I told y’all she’s whipped.” The group laughed at this comment, Paige turning to head back to the locker room for press and a shower, a quick “Fuck you!” thrown their way as she left.

They continued laughing as they made their way back to the hotel, the group deciding to go down to the hotel bar for drinks since Tatum had an early flight back to Dallas the next morning. Conversation flowed naturally between everyone, Tatum hearing a lot of stories of Paige’s college days, even some high school stories from Azzi who loved to bring up Paige’s embarrassing moments. 

The most common conversation however was about Paige and Tatum’s relationship, the group joking about how close they had gotten already, speculating on what their relationship was at this point. 

“For real y’all, we are just friends.” Tatum laughed for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, not missing the way Paige’s arm tightened around her waist every time the topic was brought up.

As the night began to wind down, Tatum and Paige said their goodbyes to the group, Paige insisting on making sure Tatum made it to her room safely. “They really are a great group of friends. You got lucky.” Tatum smiled up at Paige, the blonde reaching out to grab her hand and pull her closer.

“Yeah I did huh?” Paige grinned, enjoying the quiet that encased the two.

The quiet continued as they reached Tatum’s floor, making their way down the hallway to the suite that Paige had booked for her. “Thanks again for all of this, it was good to get out of the house and watch you play.”

“Anytime T, I like seeing you happy. Plus I’m being for real when I say I play better with you wearing my name.”

Tatum laughed at this, not believing that her jersey choice had anything to do with Paige’s performance. “Shut up, you’re such a flirt.”

“I try my best.” Paige laughed, pulling Tatum in for a hug. “Text me when you make it back to Dallas and I will be back home Friday if you wanna come over for movie night.”

“I will.” Tatum answered, leaning up to give Paige a kiss on her cheek, a normal action for the pair now. “Goodnight P.”

“Night love.”

~~~

The next game was rough, a tough fight in Chicago that ended in a win for the team but Paige was still upset at her performance. She felt like no matter what she did, she just could not find her rhythm, missed shots and turnovers plaguing her game. She held her head high throughout the game, not letting everyone know how much her fumbles were affecting her, but Tatum could tell when watching that was upset with herself. 

By the time Paige got back to the hotel, she was ready to forget this night ever happened and sleep it off but she found herself longing for Tatum at that moment. She called Tatum, the line connecting quickly, Paige feeling herself smile at the sight of Tatum almost instantly.

“Hey I wondered when you would be back at the hotel, I was just about to text you.” Tatum answered, “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” Paige groaned, “I don’t even know. I’m happy for the team to get the win but I’m upset with myself.”

“Paige it is okay to have a bad game!”

“I know that and I don’t expect myself to be the best player every night, but I don’t want to let them down.” She worried, biting her lip briefly as she reviewed her performance in her head.

“You aren’t letting them down P, you are human and are allowed to not put up record numbers every single game. Sometimes it is okay to be a member of the team and not the leader.”

Paige had always felt it was her duty to lead the team, to take their losses and errors on her own shoulders so the other players could focus on the moment. She would carry the burden of any mistakes so they didn’t have to and she was trying to teach herself that it was okay to relinquish that control.

“Look, let yourself feel bad tonight, take a bath, cry if you have to, and then when you get back here and you play them again on Saturday, make changes and prove to everyone who you are! You are Paige fucking Bueckers, you were drafted number one for a reason and it’s cause you’re really fucking good at basketball, so don’t let tonight ruin everything cause that isn’t who you are and they will see that.” Tatum stated.

Paige laughed, caught off guard by the speech Tatum gave. Sitting her further on her bead and wiping away a stray tear she spoke up. “Thanks ma, I needed that. You ever thought of being a motivational speaker or some shit? You’re good at that.”

Tatum laughed, enjoying the smile that now graced Paige’s face. “Maybe I’ll think about it for my next career.”

They continued talking for a while while Paige made her way to the bathroom, a nice warm bath calling her name. Watching as Tatum yawned again, clearly fighting sleep to talk, she decided to let the brunette go. “Go to sleep Tatum, I will see you tomorrow right?”

“Yeah, text me when you get home.” She slid further under the covers, eyes fluttering shut. “Goodnight Paige.”

“Goodnight T.” 

~~~

The next few games went by well for Paige, her performance in Chicago pushing her into another gear and she was on a quest now to make anyone who doubted her regret it, but most importantly, she was having fun doing it. She felt like she had been so caught up in the headlines and commentary on her performance and goals in the W that she had started treating basketball like just a job instead of the game she grew up loving. 

Paige found herself longing for the moments she could be with Tatum, soaking up each moment they were together. She woke up earlier to join her morning run, sat around Tatum’s apartment when she had a free moment to just watch the girl work, and facetimed her every night that she was on the road. They fell into a comfortable routine and Paige was loving every minute of it.

“They said the babies are the size of a pear this week and can hear!” Tatum stated excitedly, looking up from her phone as she sat next to Paige on her couch. “I guess I should start talking to them now.”

“That’s crazy T,” Paige smiled, “I gotta start teaching them basketball now, they’re gonna be hoopers.”

“Yeah we better hope they get Noah’s height cause they aren’t getting it from me.” Tatum laughed, “Might be the only good thing he passes on to them.”

Paige laughed at this, taken back by Tatum’s honesty. She hadn’t spoken much about Noah since he left, not wanting to taint the memory of her pregnancy with a shitty baby daddy. “Well they’ll have the best coach in the world so they’ll be fine, just trust me.” 

Tatum rubbed at her stomach as she pictured her future, running and laughing with her babies, a familiar blonde making an appearance in each moment.

“Watchu thinking about over there?” Paige asked, noticing how quiet the girl next to her got, clearly in her head.

“Just the future, what the twins will be like, how I’ll be as a mom, kinda all of it.” Tatum smiled, “What do you think is in store for your future?”

It wasn’t uncommon for them to talk about the future but most of the time it was around Paige’s career and aspirations. This would be one of the first times they really spoke about the kids and Tatum’s quickly approaching reality of motherhood.

“I like to think I’ll be here for a while, winning championships in this city that I am growing to love, but I also like to think you’ll stick around and I can get to watch the twins grow up with such an amazing mother.” Paige reached over, grasping Tatum’s hand in hers. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Tatum taking Paige’s hand and rubbing it along her stomach with hers, before Paige spoke up again. “So tell me more about what your books have been saying.” Tatum had been reading pregnancy and motherhood books for the last few weeks, eager to learn all she can about what is to come.

“Ooo okay! So they should start moving soon which is exciting!” Tatum turned to face Paige, smiling widely, “And they are going to start growing hair soon!”

“That’s awesome T,” Paige hummed, “What about symptoms?”

“Well I haven’t thrown up in a full day! But they say I may start having more heartburn with the hair growth. Oh they also said that it is common for increased libido with the hormone changes in the second trimester so apparently I may be more horny than usual soon.” Tatum laughed, surprised she was talking about that with Paige, a relatively new friend of hers no matter how close they have gotten since meeting. 

“Yo that’s crazy ma,” Paige laughed, “Well as I keep saying, I’m always open to help if you need me.” 

“Shut up Paige!” Tatum rolled her eyes, slapping Paige’s shoulder and pushing her away slightly. “Anyways! You gonna be in town on the 16th? I have to go in for my next ultrasound if you wanna come with?”

“Of course I’ll be there T.” Paige smiled, happy to be included in those moments. “Oh also, the team wants to go out to some bar tomorrow for drinks and dancing, you wanna come with me?”

“I’d love to!” Tatum clapped, “I miss going out so this will be fun!”

~~~

Tatum finished up her run and watched as Paige did the last of her lift, admiring the girl's arms as she put away the weights. “You like what you see?” Paige hummed, enjoying the look Tatum was giving her.

Tatum snapped her eyes away from Paige, grabbing her water bottle from the floor and taking a big sip. Smiling, Paige got closer to the brunette, turning her around to look at them in the mirror. Tatum in her black workout set and Paige in a white sports bra and team shorts slung low on her hip, her Nike boxers poking out the top. She leant down enough, her mouth close to Tatum’s ear and eyes locked in the mirror, “Look at you all flustered. You look good today T.” Paige whispered. 

Tatum coughed, red heating her chest and neck as she watched Paige pull back and smile. “Why do you always do that shit?” She whined, turning to smack Paige’s arm.

“Cause you look cute when you blush.” Paige laughed, stepping away from Tatum’s reach before she could get hit.

Tatum turned to leave, wanting to get out of the close quarters with Paige and into a cold shower before the teasing went any further. “I really fucking hate you.” Tatum laughed as she opened the door.

“Nah you don’t T, you love it don’t lie.” Paige yelled as she ran to grab her stuff and catch up with Tatum. After a quick elevator ride back to their apartments, the girls decided to meet around 7 to leave and meet the team at the bar, the drive being a bit further than the last bar they went to.

~~~

Paige’s phone buzzed from her bed as she finished up her hair, deciding to go with waves for the night. Making her way into her room, she smiled as she read the message from Tatum.

You almost done? I can’t figure out what to wear and I need help

Yeah let me put on my shoes and I’ll be over

Thank you!! Door is unlocked, just come into my room when you’re here!

She made her way into her living room, sliding on her shoes and making sure she had all her things for the night out. Once locked up, she made her way into Tatum’s apartment, hearing a faint groan from the closet. Laughing, she walked into Tatum’s room to take in the sight in front of her. Dresses and pants lying on the floor, sports bras and tank tops on the bed, the entire room looking as if a tornado had ripped through.

“Yo you try on your entire closet so far?” Paige joked, searching for Tatum.

“It isn’t funny, Paige, I don't know what to wear.” Tatum whined, walking out of the closet in just a black bra and underwear.

Paige’s breath hitched as she took in Tatum before her, her beautiful curves and full breasts making Paige hope she never forgets the sight. Once she steadies her breathing, she speaks up. “How can I help ma?”

“What do you think I should wear? I wanna make a good impression on everyone but I don’t know what is best.”

“Tatum you can wear literally anything and they will like you, I promise. What are you feeling right now?”

Tatum showed Paige a few outfits, ultimately landing on a pair of jean shorts and a pink crop top that tied in the front, her growing bump on full display. Once dressed and satisfied with her makeup, they made their way to Tatum’s car to meet the team at the bar. They arrived and went inside, a few members having already made it and gotten some tables in the back.

Paige took pride in introducing Tatum to the team, ignoring the confused looks from her teammates as she introduced her as just a friend. They took their seats at the table, Paige pulling Tatum’s chair closer and looped her arm around the back of her chair.

“So how far along are you, Tatum?” DiJonai asked, leaning over the table a bit to hear better.

“I’m 15 weeks with twins!” Tatum smiled.

The two began talking more about the pregnancy and how she and Paige met, their friendship so far. Paige decided to get a round of drinks for the group, her and Arike heading to the bar together.

“Y’all real close for some friends.” Arike grinned.

“Nah it ain’t like that, trust.” Paige answered, knowing the question would come multiple times that night.

“Aight I’ll believe it for now but we’ll see.”

They made their way back to the group with drinks, Paige happy for the distraction from questioning as they all made a toast to the team and to a fun night out. Similar to the last time Paige and Tatum went out, drinks were flowing and Tatum was just excited to be included. Listening to stories from practice so far about Paige, watching as the team laughed together and hearing them talk about their next steps, she loved seeing Paige in her element among her new friends. 

After an hour or so of drinking and talking, the group began making their way to the dancefloor, DiJonai reaching across the table and pulling Tatum up to join her. “C’mon you gotta join us!” She yelled. 

Tatum nodded and stood up, turning around and holding out her hand for Paige. “Come dance with me P!” She yelled, hoping her smile would persuade the blonde to join her without having to ask again. To her delight, Paige took her hand and stood up, allowing the brunette to drag her out to the dancefloor.

They began moving to the beat, Paige’s hands finding Tatum’s hips, her thumbs looping through her belt loops. “We need to do this more often!” Tatum yelled over the music, “I like dancing with you!”

“Yeah ma, we can do that.” Paige smiled, she would be willing to do anything for Tatum just to see her smile as large as she was at that moment.

Songs continued to play as the girls danced, getting closer and hotter as the night progressed. At some point in the night, Tatum turned around, her back near Paige’s front. With the new position, Paige slung one arm around Tatum’s shoulders, hand near the opposite side, pulling her closer to her body, the other hand finding her waist. 

Tatum’s breath hitched with the proximity, enjoying the feeling of Paige’s skin on her bare back and longing for more. She pressed her body against Paige tentatively, rolling her hips to the music. Paige leaned down, her breath fanning over Tatum’s neck, goosebumps forming in its absence. 

“You keep dancing like this and we can go out every night.” Paige groaned, feeling herself growing needy with each movement from the brunette. 

Tatum turned her head, taking a similar position to Paige and whispering in her ear, “I may have to take you up on that,” her needy tone seeping through her words.

They continued to grind against each other for a while until Paige’s teammates began leaving, wanting to make sure they had everything packed before they left the next day. The girls took it as their sign to leave as well, making their way back to the apartment and saying their goodbyes at Tatum’s door.

“Thank you for the invite P, that was fun.” Tatum sighed, reaching for Paige to give her a proper hug.

“Of course ma.” Paige leaned down, angling her head slightly so she was closer to her ear. “I’ll be back in 4 days but call me if you need anything.” She whispered, enjoying the whine that left Tatum’s lips at this.

Tatum pulled back slightly, staring into Paige’s eyes for a few seconds. “Good night Paige.” 

“Night T.” Paige whispered, leaning in for one last hug before pulling away and allowing the brunette to enter her apartment.

~~~

Tatum watched as Paige ran down the court, her arms flexing as she shot the ball to increase their lead to 9. It was a tough game for the Wings, back and forth with the Aces all night, but it looked like they were finally pulling away to secure their next win. For how good Paige was playing, Tatum barely even noticed, she was too focused on how good Paige looked at that moment. 

Knowing it would be a while until Paige was back at her hotel and could talk, Tatum decided to take a bath and get ready for bed. Feeling her muscles finally relax as she slid in the warm, soapy water, Tatum sighed, turning on some music and closing her eyes. She lost track of time, humming along to the next song when she heard her phone begin to buzz. Reaching over, she answered the facetime from Paige, the blonde’s grin filling the screen as it connected.

“Hi pretty girl.” Paige hummed, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nah was just finishing up a bath, I didn’t think you’d be back so fast.” Tatum smiled, admiring Paige’s eyes. “You looked good out there.”

“Just me or the whole team?” Paige asked, secretly loving the compliment from the girl.

“Uhh both?” Tatum whispered, angling her phone away from her face briefly as she thought about what was just said.

“Nah let me see that pretty face T, don’t get all shy now.” Paige hummed, voice dropping slightly and smiling widely as Tatum came back into frame. “There she is. You know I love it when you get all red.”

“Shut up Paige.” Tatum groaned, “You flirt like this with every girl you know?”

“Just the ones that look like you do.” Paige whispered.

“So I’m special huh?” 

“Always have been.” 

The girls allow the quiet to overtake them, staring into each other's eyes through the phone but not wanting to be the one who took the next move. After a minute of quiet, Tatum decided to speak up.

“Y’all fly back tomorrow?” Tatum asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Yeah, we should be back tomorrow afternoon, why? You miss me?” Paige smirked, watching as Tatum laid the phone down on the counter to get out of the bath. 

Once wrapped in her robe, Tatum grabbed the phone and propped it up against her mirror. “Nah just wondering.”

Paige slapped her hand against her chest, playing up the dramatics. “That’s cold T, just as I was about to tell you how much I missed you.”

“Whatever.” Tatum laughed, falling into a comfortable banter with Paige while she finished her skincare routine and laid in bed.

“You gonna be home tomorrow all day?” Paige asked.

“I should be, you wanna do something?” Tatum smiled, snuggling further into her comforter as she watched Paige do the same.

“Nah just wanna see you.” Paige whispered.

“I’d like that. Text me when you’re home and you can come over.”

“Deal. Night love.”

“Night Paige.”

~~~

You up?

Paige heard her phone buzz, reaching over to her bedside table to check the time. 4:30 AM. Who the fuck is texting me this early on my day off, she thought, grabbing her phone to see what’s going on, finding the text from Tatum staring back at her.

Yeah T, what’s up?

Can’t sleep, you wanna go workout with me?

Paige groaned, she was hoping to have the day off before she resumed practice on Monday, the last stretch of games catching up with her. Testing her luck, she decided to respond.

Nah but you can come lay with me and see if that helps

Tatum reread the words on her screen for the fifth time, not knowing what to say. On one hand, she would love to join Paige and sleep, but on the other hand she didn’t know what that would mean for them. They had been toeing the line of friends and something more for such a long time and Tatum wasn’t sure if this wouldn’t change things. Swallowing her fears, she got out of bed and found her robe, throwing it on over her bra and sleep shorts, and grabbed her keys to lock up.

On my way

Paige’s door opened quickly, the blonde half awake watching as Tatum entered her apartment quietly, slipping off her house shoes and falling into Paige’s embrace.

“Thanks Paige, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“No worries ma but let’s go to bed, I’m fucking tired.” Paige whispered into Tatum’s hair, pulling back to guide the girl into her room. She plopped into her bed, flipping back the covers on the other side as Tatum slid off her robe and joined her.

Tatum laid awkwardly, not knowing the best action to take, when she felt Paige’s arm wrap around her waist and pull her closer, pinning her to the blonde’s side. Within minutes, Paige could hear Tatum’s soft snores begin, a smile on her lips as she realized. With a quick kiss to the brunette’s forehead, Paige joined her in sleep, neither waking up until several hours later.

Paige woke up first, making her way out into her closet to get ready for the gym, figuring she would get a good workout in before they needed to leave for Tatum’s ultrasound. Quietly slipping out of the house, she made her way down to the gym. About halfway through her workout she received a text from Tatum thanking her for letting her stay and letting her know she is going to her place to get ready. Knowing she has about 2 hours left until the appointment, Paige finishes up her workout and heads up stairs to shower.

~~~

“How have you been feeling momma?” The nurse asked as Tatum made her way to the table for her ultrasound.

“Honestly pretty good!” Tatum smiled, “Not really having morning sickness anymore and no heartburn as of yet, knock on wood.”

“That’s good to hear. Now how are you sleeping?” 

“Most nights aren’t too bad but I couldn’t get comfortable last night. Really miss sleeping on my stomach.” Tatum frowned.

“Yeah you’re getting to the point where you might want to get a pregnancy pillow if you don’t already have one. Are you familiar with those?”

“I think I’ve seen them around before, I will make sure to get one soon! Thank you!” Tatum smiled, turning to face Paige. “Remind me when we get back to the apartments to buy one please.”

“Of course T.” Paige hummed, reaching out to hold Tatum’s hand as the nurse started the ultrasound.

“Well babies are looking good and right on track growth wise.” She moved the wand around, taking a few photos while Tatum and Paige watched. “Looks like baby A is a wiggle worm over there.”

“When will I be able to feel them?” Tatum asked, watching as baby A stretched and kicked their sibling slightly, baby B beginning to wiggle around as a result. 

“It’s typical for mommas to start feeling the babies around 18 weeks or so but it could be sooner.”

“What about others?” Tatum asked, turning to smile at Paige before returning her focus to the screen.

“Probably more like 20 weeks or so, it depends on a few factors. Take note when they are active once you start feeling them and it can make it easier for others to catch them.” 

They continued to watch as the babies wiggled around, the nurse finishing up the ultrasound and having Tatum sit up. She went over what Tatum should be experiencing for the next few weeks to be prepared and they scheduled the next appointment. Making their way out of the office, they got in Paige’s car and began the trip back to their apartments.

“You want me to stop and pick up dinner on the way back for our movie night?” Paige asked, pulling up her phone to see what was around them.

“I actually got some stuff at the store yesterday to make Chicken Parmesan, you want that?” Tatum hummed, facing Paige.

“I’ll always take a home cooked meal from you.” Paige laughed, turning out of the doctor's office and heading home.

“Thank you again for coming with me, it means a lot to not be alone.” Tatum smiled, watching Paige’s profile as she drove. 

“Of course T, I told you I will be there for you as long as you let me.” Paige whispered as she reached across, linking her fingers with Tatum for the remainder of the drive. 

Once they arrived back at the apartments they made their way up to Tatum’s for dinner and movie night. Paige watched as Tatum started dinner, the brunette kicking her out each time she tried to help. 

“Why won’t you let me help T?” Paige groaned, annoyed at getting shut down each time she asked.

“Cause I don’t need help Paige. Plus, you aren’t the best in the kitchen.” Tatum stated, her voice dropping to a whisper for the last part, smile large on her face as she saw that Paige still heard her.

Making her way around the island, Paige walked slowly towards Tatum. “What’d you just say ma?”

Tatum turned around to face Paige, hands in the air, “Nothing!” She laughed, trying to step back and not get caught by Paige.

“Nah I think I heard you.” Paige grabbed Tatum’s hands, pinning her between the counter and her body. “I think you were doubting my skills in the kitchen.”

Tatum’s breath hitched at the proximity of their bodies, pressing back slightly against Paige before the blonde leaned further into Tatum’s space. “I’m just saying, you burnt a frozen pizza last week. No shame P.” Tatum whispered, unsure what to do next.

“Then why don’t you teach me?” Paige whispered, letting Tatum go but not moving more than a few inches away.

Tatum nodded, not trusting herself to speak after being that close to Paige. Pushing against Paige’s chest, Tatum moved away from the counter and resumed her recipe. Handing the mallet to Paige, she told her how to flatten the chicken, honestly relieved to have someone else do it for her, her stomach turning at the feeling of raw chicken in her hands.

“Once you’re done you’re going to put it in the flour, then egg, then breadcrumbs and place it on the plate once it’s done. The oil is heating now so we can fry it.” Tatum smiled, Paige nodding along and jumping into action.

It didn’t take long for dinner to be finished now that they were working together, Tatum frying the chicken while Paige finished the salad to go with their meal. Sitting down at the table, Tatum was pleased with how well the meal came out.

“I see that smile over their ma, don't play. I did good huh?” Paige asked, watching as Tatum finished her bite and set her fork down.

“I mean it wasn’t all just you.” Tatum laughed, “But yeah you did really good Paige.”

“Thanks ma.” Paige whispered, face lighting up at the praise and ducking her head to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Wanting to change the subject, she asked about Tatum’s plans for a gender reveal.

“I don’t wanna do anything crazy but I definitely want to know. She said they can find out at my next appointment so only 4 more weeks!” 

“That’s exciting T.” Tatum’s appointment was right before all-star break was slated to begin and while nothing was guaranteed yet, Paige’s performance so far had her on track to make the team. “You coming to Indy with me if I make all-star?”

“You want me to?” Tatum asked, not having planned to go yet but interested.

“Yeah if you’re down I’d love to have you there.” Paige smiled.

“Then yeah I’ll be there.” After a few minutes of quiet, Tatum had an idea. “Would it be weird if I did the gender reveal in Indy? I’m dreading having my mom take it over if we do it here so at least there she can’t control everything. Plus that way you can come and we don’t have to worry about your schedule.”

“Nah I don’t think it would be weird, let’s do it.” Paige hummed.

“Awesome! I’ll start planning then.” Tatum smiled, the girls finishing dinner quickly and making their way to the kitchen to start cleaning up.

“Why don’t you go change and choose the movie while I clean?” Paige asked, hoping to give the brunette the chance to sit down and let her do the work for her.

“You sure?” Tatum asked, not wanting to feel like she was taking advantage of Paige’s kindness by making her do the dirty work.

“Yes, now go.” Paige shooed her away, smiling when the shorter girl began making her way into her bedroom.

A couple minutes later Paige heard her name being called, shutting off the water and walking into Tatum’s bathroom when she found the girl struggling to reach something in her cabinet. “What’s wrong T?”

“I ran out of face wash and can’t reach the new bottle, can you get it for me?” Tatum asked, not turning around but still trying to reach the top shelf.

Paige made her way behind Tatum, placing one hand on her hip while the other gripped the bottle she was looking for and brought it down to the counter. “That all you need me to grab for you?” She whispered as Tatum turned around to face her. 

Tatum shook her head, staring into Paige’s eyes as neither wanted to back away. Slowly, Tatum raised up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her down to meet her halfway in a hug.

They stood there silently embracing for a minute before Tatum decided to take the next move, pulling back and locking eyes with the blonde. “Please just kiss me already.” Tatum whispered, barely hearing her own voice over the beating of her heart.

Without missing a beat, Paige leaned in, one hand coming to hold the back of Tatum’s head as she kissed her slowly. They pulled back but not far, Paige’s forehead resting on Tatum’s as they both regained their breathing. 

“Thank you.” Tatum whispered.

“Always ma.” Paige smiled, standing up to her full height.

The remainder of their movie night was quiet, neither knowing what to say or wanting to burst the bubble they now found themselves in. They both knew they would need to address the kiss but they were okay with putting that off until another day.

Once the movie was over, Paige made her way to the door, Tatum following closely behind. “Thank you for dinner T.” Paige hummed, pulling the shorter girl in for a hug. “You coming to the game tomorrow? I need my girl there in her jersey for good luck.”

“Of course I’ll be there Paige.” Tatum smiled, cheeks burning at the use of my girl to describe her. “Have a good night.”

“Night love. Text me if you need anything.” Paige whispered, giving a quick kiss to Tatum’s head before opening the door and leaving for her apartment.

What the fuck just happened??! Tatum thought to herself, so much for just staying friends.

[doodleferp]

The Dante/Callie Brainrot

So in an effort to get rid of my art block and try to get into writing some more, I'm putting together some general thoughts about Callie and Dante. I wrote these with the games in mind, but these can be applied to the reboot game and the Netflix show if we squint.

Absolutely feel free to send me asks about these two as well. I need the fuel. Please. I am begging.

Potential triggers include surgical practices, death, canon-typical violence, sex mention, friends with benefits mention, tattoos

Dante and Callie are two and a half weeks apart, and met when Callie was a few weeks old. See, Callie's mom Fran was Eva's best friend. Her bestest best friend in the whole wide fuckin' world. The kind of friends that plan out their lives cradle to grave. and have somehow stuck to it after all these years. Callie spent about a third of her childhood hanging out with the Spardas, becoming bestest best friends with the twins until the fire. Callie reconnected with Dante in DMC 3 and just like that, they were together for the next thirty-something years.

Just like their mothers, Dante and Callie were pretty much inseparable as kids. Pretty much the second that one was in the other's line of sight, the other would be sprinting up to hug them. Since Vergil was an indoor boy, Dante relished the opportunity to play with someone his own age. Meanwhile, Callie was an only child who was lonely at home, so she was equally ecstatic to be around Dante for as long as she could. But childhood stories are for another day.

After DMC 3, Callie and Dante were FWBs for a few years to cope with the grief of losing Vergil. Obviously, they end up dating, but instead of a big dramatic confrontation, they just…slowly forget they aren’t dating and one day they’re a couple. And they both seem to think they were dating from the very beginning and are (purposefully?) confused when people bring up they were just fuck buddies for a while.

Before they moved in together. Dante would like, super duper clean his room before Callie came over. I don’t know if it’s because he wanted to impress her or if he just wanted a clean space to get down, but he goes into a bedroom cleaning frenzy when he knows Callie’s coming to the shop. They didn’t always go to the bedroom when they screwed around so your guess is as good as mine.

They don't really have like...date-dates very often. I need to figure out how exactly their schedules are gonna line up, but dates are usually stuff like movie marathons or drive-ins or dinner at the diner that Dante loves. Every so often they'll head out of town for a job that Dante has to do and spend some time together there, but the good time usually gets overshadowed by whatever demon he has to fight. They don't really care and the demon ends up being an afterthought anyway. They're just glad to get to spend time together.

Dante will "babe, I got it" her all the time. It's like, she'll try to do something herself and he'll go "Nah, babe, I got it." And just. Never does it. Out of procrastination or pure virtue of forgetting about it. It's infuriating and it keeps happening. Callie's learned to ignore him whenever he says he has something and just do it herself.

Callie's a trauma surgeon, and works in the ER at the local hospital. She credits the development of her surgical skills to Dante being her "personal cadaver" -- a feat that he proudly flaunts to this day. Due in no small part to his indestructibility, Dante would let Callie practice small surgical things on him -- stitches, sutures, staples, intubation, IVs -- and even some more complex procedures when he was feeling ballsy. I have this lovely mental image of them lounging on the couch or in bed on a dark summer night, the light from the old TV casting an eerie glow on them, Dante eating pizza or nursing a beer with one hand while Callie practices a running whip stitch on his other hand.

Fun fact! Due to the nature of their work, Callie's had to admit Dante and Lady to the ER every so often. Being some of the most badass demon hunters ever doesn't automatically guarantee you'll never get injured, and it also doesn't mean people won't call 911 in the aftermath of an attack. Every so often, Callie will stroll onto the ER floor, pull back a curtain, and see Dante's smiling face on the bed, sitting in an ocean of blood with a bone or two sticking out of his body and a couple semi-panicking staff. Lady is ironically the more difficult patient because she usually just wants to get bandaged up and get out of there. Dante will do anything the doctors tell him to do and is very cooperative with the staff, all while throwing cheesy lines Callie's way.

Speaking of. Even though Callie is making reasonable bank and can provide for the shop, Dante refuses to let her help him with the bills. It doesn't even matter that Callie has lived there long enough for them to be legally considered married. He refuses to let her contribute financially to the bills in any way. “I’m your boyfriend, I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you!” So Callie does the mature thing and pays his tabs behind his back.

They have designated days where they go thrifting and antiquing. It’s how they find stuff for the shop, it’s how they find Dante’s awesome outfits, and it’s just so much fun to look at all the cool shit people have donated or put up for sale.

They have a cat! A little bit after Devil May Cry, a depressed and lonely Dante spotted a kitten with a broken leg and decided to take him home. That cat is named Sampson, and he is the most grumpy little shit on the face of the earth. Dante is his chosen two-leg and Callie is just the spare. He warms up to her after she starts being home more, but she was a constant recipient of hisses and bites whenever she approached Dante while Sampson was nearby. Sampson dies around DMC 5 (he dies from natural causes at the old age of fifteen) and Dante cried like a baby.

Bedtime for them is. Weird. It’s a fluctuating thing that changes as Callie adjusts to her work flow at the hospital. Eventually, she settles on the early and day shifts at the emergency room, so some days she’s waking Dante and the cat up at the crack of dawn. And don’t even get me started on the nights she needs to be paged in.

Anyway, Callie will fall asleep and spread all the way out like a starfish. Dante, meanwhile, will latch onto her no matter what and render her unable to move from that starfish position. Every time she gets in bed while he's asleep, he immediately gravitates towards her and starts to cuddle. Sampson sleeps at the foot of the bed, or he steals Callie's pillow and forces her to switch with the already-comfy or already-asleep Dante. There is no in-between.

My dear friend Penelope convinced me to let them get married, but I haven't put down an exact timeline for it. As far as the games go, I'd place it somewhere around or between DMC 4 and DMC 5. He really feels like the hopeless romantic guy who WOULD want a big wedding party, but kinda pushes that dream aside because he knows he wouldn't be able to afford it. Instead of rings, they get marriage tattoos -- Dante tattoos Callie's name on the back of his left hand, and Callie does the same but with Dante's name. And that tat gives him the butterflies more than any ring ever could.

taglist: @brightlycoloredteacups, @missmermaidsoaps, @merumely. @wastelandrunaways-blog, @randthings

devil may cry © capcom

fanfic © doodleferp 2025

[jinjooha69]

STEPDAD TOJI X READER !

pairing - Toji fushiguro x reader (Stepdad! AU)

A MAN IN MY HOUSE

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content warning : Age gap, Stepdad!AU ,Power imbalance, Sexual tension and manipulation, Explicit NSFW content - Dry humping, Oral (f receiving & m receiving), Overstimulation, Teasing and edging, Semi-public scenes, Virgin!reader, Possessive and dominant behavior, Emotional distress / angst, Toxic relationship dynamics, Infidelity, Dubious morality, Family drama.

next chapter --------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1

When Mom said she was getting remarried, I expected someone kind. Gentle. Maybe a little awkward, like those single dads in dramas who try too hard.

But he was nothing like that.

Toji Fushiguro moved into our house with a lazy smirk, broad shoulders, and a scar on his lip that looked like it had a story I didn’t want to know. His son, Megumi, was the opposite—quiet and polite, barely looked me in the eye. But he didn’t matter much. He lived at the hostel, only came around for the holidays.

The real problem was Toji.

He walked around shirtless in the mornings like he owned the place. Always lounging on our couch, flipping through channels like nothing interested him—except me.

I caught him staring more than once.

Once when I was bending over to get something from the fridge.

Once when I walked out of the shower with a towel wrapped tight.

Once when I was doing yoga in the living room, thinking I was alone.

He never said anything at first. Just smirked. Sometimes raised an eyebrow.

Until one evening, when Mom was away on a business trip and Megumi hadn’t come home for the weekend.

Just the two of us.

I was in the kitchen making ramen, wearing my shortest pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. I heard his footsteps before I saw him—slow, confident.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes shamelessly scanning me from head to toe.

"You really should dress more modestly, princess," he drawled, voice low and teasing. "You never know what kind of man might be lurking around."

I scoffed, not bothering to look at him.

"Maybe you should get a job instead of lurking."

"Ouch," he chuckled. "So feisty. You talk to your father like this?"

"You’re not my father."

That got his attention. In a second, he was behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his chest against my back. His hand slid around my waist, not touching—hovering.

"Good," he whispered near my ear, voice deep and deliberate. "Because the things I wanna do to you… ain’t exactly fatherly."

My heart thudded against my ribs. My throat went dry.

I hated him.

I hated how he made me feel.

----------

Toji didn’t touch me that night. He just whispered filth in my ear and walked off, leaving me standing in the kitchen with burning cheeks and ramen I’d lost my appetite for.

I thought maybe he was drunk, or bored.

Maybe he wouldn’t do it again.

But the next morning, he was sitting on the dining table, legs spread wide, shirtless again, sipping coffee like nothing happened.

His eyes flicked up lazily when I walked in, still dressed in my school uniform—short skirt, button-down shirt, bag slung over my shoulder.

“You sure your school doesn’t have a dress code?”

His voice dripped with amusement.

I rolled my eyes. “You sure this house doesn’t have rules about jobless creeps ogling teenagers?”

He gave a low whistle, leaning back in the chair. “Damn. And here I was about to offer you a ride to school.”

“I’d rather walk barefoot through glass.”

Toji just grinned. “Knew you were into pain.”

Disgusting.

Infuriating.

And worse—he knew exactly how to push me.

Every day it was something.

He’d walk past me and brush his fingers against the small of my back, accidentally.

He’d "mistakenly" walk into the bathroom while I was brushing my hair in my towel.

He’d sit too close when Mom wasn’t around, his knee bumping mine under the table like it wasn’t a big deal.

I rejected him every time—sarcastic comebacks, nasty glares, slammed doors.

But the bastard never flinched. He only got bolder.

One Friday night, Megumi was coming home, so I thought I’d finally get a break from Toji’s constant teasing.

Wrong.

We were all sitting in the living room—Megumi beside me, half-asleep after his long train ride, and Toji across from us, watching me like he always did, like he was imagining what I looked like underneath the hoodie I’d thrown on.

At one point, Mom walked in from the kitchen with snacks and said, “Toji, can you help me bring the drinks?”

He stood up, but not before giving me that crooked grin.

“Anything for the lady of the house.”

But his eyes were on me.

I could feel my skin crawl and burn all at once.

And the worst part?

A part of me was starting to like the game.

next chapter

.

[tinkerbellini21]

A Stranger's Jacket: Part 20

Evan "Buck" Buckley x plus size! reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst, fluff, alcohol use, spoilers

Author's Notes: Might be a few days before I update! I have to crack down on these final papers!

Masterlist | Taglist

You’re mid-break the next day when your phone vibrates. You pick it up, seeing your fiance’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Sorry, this is Buck. I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself from your conversation with Josh, walking out of the breakroom and down the hallway. Soon he is requesting a video call. As you answer, you see him in the Jeep, wearing a white top and his brown jacket. 

“Hi Babe! You caught me at a good time, I’m just taking my break. How are you? Did you end up finding the lunch I left you this morning?”

“Yes, it was delicious, thanks.” His voice is distracted, but he flashes a half-smile at your thoughtfulness. “Were you upset yesterday because of the name tag?”

“Well hello to you too.” You tease, looking away from the camera. You’re quickly thinking on the spot, trying to find a way around this conversation. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I want you to know that this is still my spot. She’s not taking it.”

“Oh, I know that.” You roll your tongue up behind your top lip, letting it slip out of your mouth before you continue. “To answer your question, I wasn’t crying over just that. If it makes you feel better, Eddie let me be his punching bag! It’s been needing to happen for a few months now. He took it like a champ. He’s a really good friend.”

“Wait, what?” His eyes widen. “You punched Eddie? What happened?”

“Buck—”

“Don’t say it doesn’t matter. Did they say something to upset you?”

“No.” You hear him groan, frustrated at your stubborn nature. “It was teasing and I was being sensitive, that’s all. Eddie let me punch him a few times to get my anger out.”

His eyes soften, lashes fluttering, voice hushed. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, too.” You cast your gaze down, finding your loafers much more interesting.

 You tried to protect him. But it didn’t work. You swallow a lump. 

“Hey, I’m not mad. I just- please don’t carry this stuff by yourself. That’s what I’m here for, remember?”

“Yeah.” You’re now kicking your foot back and forth, toes catching with each swing. You didn’t want to have to add onto his load, though.At least, not right now.  “It was just easier to not say anything. You’ve been adjusting so well and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Babe, look at me. You could never ruin it. It’s just a job. Sure, it’s been tough but it’s not more important than you, and it never will be.” He pauses, making eye contact with you. Your eyes have glossed over. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smile as he tilts his head, blowing a kiss. You blow one back, feeling like a teenage girl falling in love all over again.

“That’s what I like to see, that pretty smile. Now tell me about your day. Any interesting calls?”

You laugh, recalling the ridiculous case that you had. He laughs alongside you, attentive to your day, but you can’t help but see a light dimming in his eyes. Your chest squeezes. So you quickly change gears, asking him about his day. The light slowly flickers alive again, and the pressure slowly eases. 

You finish the call, still smiling, glad to have a burst of renewed energy. Yet, by the end of your 12-hour shift, you’re exhausted. You want to go home, eat, and collapse into Buck��s arms. When you get into your car, your head hits the steering wheel. You just need a minute to collect yourself. However, with each passing second, you feel yourself drifting further towards sleep.

You straighten up, placing your phone on the mount to call your boyfriend. It rings, and you get through to his voicemail. You try again. No answer. Your eyebrows turn in. That’s not normal.

You get home safely, thanks to your music blaring. Buck’s Jeep is here. 

Was he really asleep? At 8 PM?

Quietly, you open the door. The lights are off, met with the sounds of the TV. With the flick of the light switch, you enter the kitchen to find something to eat. You don’t find anything satisfying to eat, so you grab an apple to eat with peanut butter, not too hungry. 

Something feels off. You feel nauseous. You haven’t felt this type of pit in your stomach in months. Even when Buck threw the blood clot. 

As you cut the apple into slices, you happen to glance at the TV. Buck lays on his stomach, passed out on the couch. His arm and a leg are hanging off of the piece of furniture. The next thing you observe light reflecting off of a bottle. Then you see two.

Maybe he’d picked up some of the old-fashioned sodas he treats himself to every once in a while. 

You step around the counter, moving closer. A third bottle is on the floor. A hint of barley and hops wafts through the air.

You lean in closer.  Stella Artois. Not his usual beer. You quickly google the ABV. 5.2%. Stronger than a Corona. Three bottles and blood thinners? No wonder he’s out cold.

You twist the ring on your finger, slowly putting the puzzle pieces together. 

Buck has been diligent, watching what he eats, limiting his consumption of alcohol. Something happened. Did the name tag get to him that bad? What happened?

You pull out your phone, dialing Maddie. She picks up after the first ring.

“What’s up? I’m kind of busy.” It’s short, voice hushed. You frown. Did something happen between the two of them? Is everyone feeling off today?

“Hey, sorry. I know you had a hard call today, but— I’m worried about Buck. He’s passed out on the couch with three empty bottles of beer What if it hurts him?”

“Watch him, but I think he’ll be okay. Keep me updated?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

You feel an eye twitch as you pull the phone away from your cheek, looking at the screen. Does she really not have anything to say? Not to ask if you were okay? She didn’t even seem that concerned about her brother. 

“Night.”

You bite your tongue to avoid getting annoyed with her. Maybe she’s just checked out for the night, tired after an emotionally exhausting case. Still… it stings. 

“Night.”

After finishing your apple, you head upstairs for a shower. You need to clear your head, to make a plan before approaching Buck. 

Your shower thoughts are invaded by worries. What tipped Buck over the edge? Did the 118 say something? Did he overhear them? Was he frustrated after a long day?

With one of his shirts and a pair of panties, you pad downstairs. You squat down next to him, laying your hand on his back. You rub in circles, gently shaking him. Warmth radiates off of him, his shirt stuck to his skin by sweat. 

“Buck. Babe.” You say firmly. It takes a few more attempts before he becomes somewhat alert.

“Hmm.”

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Don’ wanna talk abou’it.”

“Okay. Did you eat?”

“Yeaah.”

You kneel on your knees, placing a hand on Buck’s face. Stubble pokes your skin as your fingers glide across his jaw.

“Alright, good. Can we get you upstairs for bed?”

“Comfy ‘ere.”

You press a kiss to his cheek. The muscles of his face turn into a smile.

“I’m sure you are, buuut, I don’t want you to be sore in the morning.”

“‘M’fine,” he mumbles again, words sloshed together. 

You sigh, exasperated. With a roll of your eyes, you tilt his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy, red. The redness inhis eyes wasn’t just from the alcohol- it was grief. That pit in your stomach? It was the same ache in his chest, bubbling until it broke loose. 

“You know, as your fiance, I cannot do that. I won’t sleep well if you’re on the couch.”

“Can’t move.” 

“That’s okay. Do you want me to call Eddie?”

“Noo.” He draws out with a groan, and you bite back a laugh as he struggles to get up.

After a few attempts, you decide that you had your entertainment, and now was the time to offer him a hand. 

You had never experienced a drunk Buck before. After not drinking much in the past year, combined with his medication, it’s no wonder that he’s really feeling the effects of three beers. 

Getting Buck to stand on his feet is a feat on its own. Once he’s up, your arm steadies him. He trips, leaning most of his weight on you. You fight hard to keep yourself up right, laughing as you slowly move the man across the floor. 

Looking up the stairs, you turn your attention back to the man. He’s staring back down at you, eyes shining with love. It’s the same look he gave you hours ago. Now he’s out of it, hurting on the inside. 

“You’re amazing. I looove you.”

“I looove you too. Now hold onto that railing and work with me, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You manage to make it upstairs, both of you giggling as you sway in sync. You consider collapsing beside him in bed, but first, you have to find out what’s going on. 

Once his head hits the pillow and you get him out of his clothes, he’s out like a light. You linger, pushing your fingers through his hair. He starts to snore into the pillow, and you gently turn his head to the side so he can get some air. 

You move to turn the light off in the bathroom. You look back, the light casting a shadow on the wall. Buck’s back is rising and falling equally. For a moment, you pretend that everything is fine. He’s safe, and that’s all that matters. 

Then reality creeps its way back in. 

You sneak downstairs to tidy up. It’s your job to find out what put Buck in this state. To get ahead on damage control. 

Your first instinct is to call Eddie, to see if he has talked to him recently. 

“Hey! I’m on shift. Is everything okay?”

“Hey! I don’t want to bother you, but do you know why Buck would’ve been drinking tonight? He didn’t want to talk about it, and he’s pretty messed up. I had to help him up the stairs, Eddie.”

Your fingers wrap around the necks of the three bottles. Now that you’re not worried about Buck, you realize that the floor underneath your feet is cold. 

“Uhm, no I don't. That’s surprising, actually, with his blood thinners and all.”

“Yeah—I don’t want to invade his privacy, but I’m about to open his phone.” The bottles clink against each other as you stand above the trash can, foot pushing the pedal. “Tell me it’s a bad idea.”

“Actually, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. This is uncharacteristic of him, and I think that if you can find out what went wrong, it might be easier to approach it in the morning.”

“You know what, you’re so right.” You drop the bottles in the trash can, switching the device to your other ear. You quietly navigate across the loft, not wanting to be heard by Buck- even though there’s no way he’s waking up anytime soon. 

Sitting down on the couch, you place your phone on your lap. 

“I’m in.” You feel giddy, like you’re a part of a secret mission. You should feel bad, but you remember that this is for Buck’s health. You navigate to his texts, skimming previous without opening them. “Eddie, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything.”

“Check his call log. Maybe Cap talked to him.”

You start at the top of the call log. Your two missed calls. A call to Maddie, which she didn’t answer, and then-

“Oh, look! He got a call from Athena about two hours ago.”

“Great. Sooo, follow up with her and let me know what you find out.”

“Okay. Thanks, Eds.”

“No problem. Good luck! Speak soon, Sunshine.”

You put Buck’s phone down, switching to yours as you stand up. You type in Athena, finger hovering over the call button. You start to pace between the living room and the dining area. 

Part of you thinks you should let this be, wait for Buck to tell you when you’re ready. But now you’re curious. With a deep breath, you dial the number, holding your breath anxiously. Maybe you should hang up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Athena! I’m so sorry to be calling this late at night. I just got home from work and Buck was drunk on the couch. He had three beers and I’m trying to figure out why. With his blood thinners— I’m just concerned.”

“Are you sitting down for this?”

You stop in your tracks, body tensing. What does she mean, are you sitting down? Is it that bad?

“Why?”

“I invited Buck over for dinner. Things didn’t go over too smoothly.”

You move towards the island, running your fingers across the countertop. 

“What happened?”

“Buck was ranting about not being back and Bobby told him that it was his choice.”

“Oh.”

“He got upset, said it wasn’t fair. Bobby told him it was the blood thinners, and… he spiraled. I tried to talk him down, but he left before I could.”

You tap your ring on the surface, hearing small clinks with each hit. Just another hit to Buck’s progress. 

“Are you okay?” 

You tap your foot anxiously, gripping the edge of the counter. You don’t feel okay.

“Yeah, I uh, I trust Bobby’s judgement. I have to, uh, figure out how to be neutral.”

“Well it’ll work itself out. He’ll get over it.” 

Her voice softens, silent for a beat. You fight back a snarky comment in response to ‘he’ll get over it’. But that’s just how Athena is—she means no harm. 

“But in the meantime, if you need anything, let us know. We’re always here for you. And Buck.”

“Thanks Athena.”

You toss your phone down with a loud clunk, hearing it slide across the counter and crash onto the floor. You'll get it in a minute.

You lean forward to rest on your elbows. You stretch your hamstrings as you push back on your legs. Carding your fingers through your hair, you tug at the root. 

This is bad. You had just gotten him out of his recent depressive episode. 

And with one step forward, you’re pushed two steps backwards.

Again. 

But as you collect yourself, untangling your fingers from your hair, you glance at the ring on your hand. You smile lovingly.

This is your person, your forever and always. You’ll get through this. You just have to have faith that soon this will be back to normal. Buck will be back to full duty- for his and your own sanity. 

But for now, he can lean on you. You’ll hold him together, because that’s what you do for someone you love. 

You’ll talk to Buck tomorrow. You’ll face this with him- whatever it is. But for now, you go collapse into Buck’s arms, pushing away the worries for the night. Each snore in your ear, surprisingly comforting, as you lay back against his chest, his arm finding its way home. You softly whisper a love you, letting your eyes drift shut. 

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[layniapetrovnaaa]

Atticus Finch x Reader

You ever reread your work over so many times you cant even tell if you like anymore... yeahhh. lmk if this sucks i havent written in forever lol. Only four years late but here it is, thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: pregnancy, one swear word, lots of anxiety, idk its pretty tame

work count: 4.9k (yikes)

***

First, it was the missed periods, then the swollen breasts and fatigue, and finally, the morning sickness. That's when you knew. It was definitely time to make that doctor's appointment to confirm your suspicions. You had hoped the kids and Atticus had not picked up on your bizarre symptoms, not because you didn't want them to know but because if it was true, you wanted to tell them in your own way and time. 

You had finally finished emptying the contents of your stomach when there was a knock on the door. "Just a second!" you scrambled, trying to find the toothpaste. You heard Scout call your name in a long, drawn-out drawl. "Jem's hoggin' our washroom! I'm gonna be late for school!" 

You put the toothbrush in your mouth, and the peppermint taste was somehow a relief while simultaneously almost triggering you to upchuck again. Gaining some composer, you opened the door and allowed her to come in. 

You had married Atticus about a year ago after having known the family for a bit. You both wanted to make sure the new adjustment was suitable for the children before you came and settled into their home and lives. Their needs came first. Lucky for you and Atticus, Jem and Scout adored you. There was no replacing their mother, and none of you wanted that, but all of you were glad the children had a maternal figure in their lives (one who was not Alexandra Hancock). Not that Calpurnia wasn't there for the children, but there was only so much she could do for them, having a family of her own. 

It had been a few years since the Tom Robinson trial. You hadn't been around for it but moved to Maycomb shortly after and quickly became close with the family. You had a job working as Atticus' secretary/assistant, and that's where it all began. Fast forward some years, and here you were as his lovely new wife. Things were simple; you'd keep up the house while your husband and the children worked and went to school. Going into town to do some shopping and keep up social pretenses. No one in the immediate family cared too much about how the town saw the Finchs, but it was a small community, and connections were important. 

What would a new baby do to this routine? How would the children react? And Atticus, too? Never mind what Stephanie Crawford would think, or better yet, say. It didn't matter, at least not until you knew for sure.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse the brush as Scout fumbles in the cupboard for a towel. 

"Well," Atticus drawls, standing in the bathroom doorway. "My two favorite girls. How are you this morning, Scout?" 

"Good morning, Atticus!" she responds as she splashes water on her face, then aggressively dries it with a towel. You both chuckle at her intense antics. She quickly tells him she's doing fine this morning and rushes to her room to get dressed. You smile at your husband and turn to him to embrace him. 

"And you, my dear, how are you on this fine morning?" His hands are on your waist, and all you can think about is how perfect this is…until you remember the missed periods, swollen breasts, fatigue, and morning sickness.

Atticus woke earlier than you most mornings, starting his day by readying himself in his office. Getting things together and finalizing paperwork. Once you and the kids awoke, he would join you in getting ready and having breakfast. While it did bother you somewhat that you woke up alone most mornings, you were grateful for it as of late. Truthfully, though, you didn't know how much it helped hide your symptoms since Atticus' office was right next to the bathroom. If he did know anything, he hadn't let on, and once again you were grateful. Somehow, he always seemed to know what was best for you before you did. 

"I'm better now that you're here." You grin and lean in to give him a peck on the lips. As you do, Jem flies by but not without making a fake "UGH!" puking noise. Atticus shakes his head. 

"Sooner than he realizes, he'll understand." He sighs with a small smile and separates from you. Jem was really starting to come into the throes of his teenage years. It was not as bad as you remember your brother's being, but you knew the transition was hard on him and Scout, for that matter. Scout was still very much a kid and probably always would be at heart. Jem, however, was beginning to act more and more like his father (aside from his occasional outbursts). 

Atticus starts on his routine of freshening up when he asks what you have planned for the day.

"Well, I have to drop that pie recipe off to Maudie, and we need more flour." 

You debated telling him about your plan to drop by Dr. Reynolds's office but figured you should in case he happened to run into him or if he tried to call home and you weren't there. "I also have to stop by Dr. Reynolds later." You hoped he wouldn't ask, but frankly, you would be upset if he didn't either. He stops and turns to you. 

"Are you feeling alright?" You could see the concern on his face and hadn't even considered the possibility of him remembering the tragedy of his late wife. And now you felt like crying, Christ almighty, you needed to get it together.

"I'm fine, Atticus. Just a check-up, no need to worry." You make eye contact in the mirror and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"You know I do." 

*** 

"Well, Mrs.Finch, your suspicions are correct. You're pregnant." 

You let out a deep breath at that, and you weren't sure if it was one of relief or anxiety. It was good to know what you practically already knew, but the thought of having to now break the news to the family was more than anxiety-inducing. 

"It's a little too early to tell exactly how far along you are, but I would say right around two months." The doctor says as he packs his tools back up. "Make sure you're getting enough rest and eating enough. I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but pregnancy can take a lot out of ya."  

You nod, even though you weren't really listening. 

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Reynolds," you stand. "Please say nothing to Atticus or the children. They don't know about any of it yet." 

"You have my word." He smiles. "We should schedule an appointment for your next visit. I'd like to check up on you every couple of weeks. It's recommended at the very least once a month."   

You nod again and follow him to the front desk to schedule your next appointment. 

On your way home, you thought of all the ways to break the news to Atticus. You'd think about the kids later; he would know best how to tell them. You were worried, to say the least. It wasn't just the shift in dynamics that was nerve-wracking; it was also the fact that it was no secret that Atticus was older, and he was starting to feel increasingly more his age each day. Having a new baby in his fifties was probably not something he had planned on. You two had talked about children once or twice, not censuring or encouraging the thought of having a baby of your own, but it was never something either of you had given too much thought to considering your husband's age. And now here you are. 

Thank God you had gotten your errands out of the way before your doctor's visit. You were practically out of commission now, having burnt the roast you were supposed to have for lunch. Atticus and the children were supposed to be home any minute now, so there was no time to fix something new. You did your best to salvage what was left of the lunch and set the table for the four of you, trying to allow yourself to picture a fifth setting. 

You hear the door and pull yourself out of your daydreams. The children, of course, come bursting through. Contradictory, Atticus follows calmly after them, removing his hat and greeting you with a kiss. 

"How was your visit with Dr. Reynolds?" he asks. The two of you are alone in the kitchen now. Jem and Scout were clearly starved, having already sat at the table and started dishing out their food, no doubt earning a scolding from their father when he eventually would sit down for lunch. They knew better than to start eating, at least. 

"All healthy, but there is something I need to tell you." You twist and pull your fingers nervously. "Later, tonight." 

He would have looked almost impassive to someone unfamiliar with his mannerisms and expressions, but you could see the concern and curiosity in your husband's eyes. All of the doctor talk must have made him nervous, but then his eyes flicked down to your stomach and back to yours, and you felt your heart leap. You took his hand despite your nervousness. "Let's go have some lunch." 

You were in bed now, and you still had not told Atticus. After your short conversation in the kitchen earlier that day, he refrained from asking again about the visit to Dr. Reynolds, though that didn't mean he had stopped thinking about it. Despite your husband's stoic disposition, he tended to worry quite a bit, part of the reason why his ulcers were constantly acting up. This was a sliver of why you had not told him when he came home for lunch, when he returned from work, or after dinner. The main reason– which you knew but didn't want to admit– was that you were scared. You continued pretending to read your book, but you should have thought about the decades of experience Atticus had as a lawyer. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asks quietly, not looking up from his literature. 

"Nothin'. Just readin’.” You quickly dismissed but cringed at your lack of courage. 

"You haven't flipped a page in 15 minutes." And you realize you're caught. 

He finally turns to you and takes your book, setting it down with his own. He takes your hand, giving it a long kiss while he looks at you somewhat expectantly. The kiss, you could tell, was meant to reassure you. He would never force you to discuss your visit, but you told him you needed to talk with him and wanted to be true to your word. He finally releases his mouth from your hand, and you give him a small smile. Timidly though, you look away and try your hardest to have faith that this will all be okay.

"What is it, sweet?" 

You let out a small sigh and turn your focus back to him. 

"Atticus?" you sounded like a child. 

"Yes?"

"I'm pregnant." 

Your voice was thick. The silence that followed was heavy, and you couldn't help but hold your breath.

He had broken eye contact with you, but his grip on your hand was firm. He raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, turning his head to stare down the end of the bed frame as he let it out. There was another pause, and then slowly, the corners of his mouth started to turn up and a grin came on his face as he shook his head slightly. 

"That's what you were so mighty worked up about tellin' me?"

"Devil." was all you said as you crossed your arms. He chuckles, placing his now vacant hand on your leg. 

"The way you were behavin' had me worried you were one foot in the grave." He tried to joke, but you could tell he was serious. "I've known about you feeling sick. I assumed that's what the visit was for, though somehow I didn't even consider the possibility of you being with child. I suppose it's been a while." 

"I didn't mean to worry you." You spoke softly, unfolding your arms and risking a glance at him. He nods faintly, accepting your silent apology. He had yet to react to the news, so you were still a bit apprehensive. 

"What are we gonna do?" you finally ask.

"How do you mean?" He raises an eyebrow. 

"Well, this isn't exactly something we planned on." you shrugged. 

"While it is quite the surprise, I must say it's not uncalled for, my dear." He gives you a knowing glance, which you can't help but give a small smile back to. Perhaps the two of you would have been more cautious if it was such an unwanted thing. Somehow, this was the first time you had thought of this, and while it did slightly ease your nerves, you still wanted to know what he thought of all of this and what you were going to do about it. 

He says your name seriously. "Do you want this baby?" 

In all the time you had spent worrying about what Atticus and the children would think, you hadn't even stopped to consider how you truly felt about the situation. It didn't take you long, however. The thought of a mini version of the two of you running around with their older siblings had already convinced you. 

"I do."

"Then it's settled." He smiles, and so do you. He brings you in for a kiss, and you feel the weight of your secret roll off your shoulders. When he pulls away, you can finally see his excitement get the better of him. "Do you know how far along you are?" 

"The doctor said about two months, but he can't be sure until I'm a little further along. I have an appointment for next month." It feels good to tell him these things. Somehow, you can't believe you were so worked up before, especially now that he hasn't stopped smiling.

It had been about six months since you had found out about your being with child. Things had gone on as usual for the first few months after the morning sickness subsided– relatively speaking. About a week after you told Atticus, the two of you took the children into town after supper and got them ice cream, trying to lessen the blow. Scout was excited right away, but it took a bit for Jem to come around, and you couldn't blame him. He was never cold to you; Atticus respected you, therefore, he did as well. Besides that, there was no denying all the support you had given him the last few years. He just seemed nervous, you all were, but you could tell there was something specific bothering him. 

It was not unusual for the children to talk about their mother, and it never bothered you; most often, you encouraged it. Even before Scout confessed on his behalf, you had an inkling that his timidness about the new baby had something to do with his mother. You empathized with him; not only was their father having another child, but Jem was also more than a decade older than this baby. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you didn't want to ever make him feel unwanted. You had spoken to Atticus about this one night after Jem was particularly quiet during dinner; Scout, on the other hand, took the whole meal talking about how she was going to show the new baby all her favorite things. 

"I think you might need to talk with Jem." You spoke up from your vanity as you brushed your hair. It was late; the children had gone to bed already, and you and your husband were settling in for the night. Atticus was undressing on the other side of the room, but you could see him behind you in the mirror. He hummed as he continued to put away his clothes. 

"I think it has to do with his mother." You said much more quietly this time. 

"Jem is like I am, is all. He needs time to sit with this new information and settle into how he feels about it." He spoke matter-of-factly. "He'll come around. He just needs time." He says with a little more tenderness as he comes up behind you and rests his hands on your shoulders. Atticus knew his kids better than you did, so you were not one to argue with him about how he dealt with these kinds of situations. He could still see the concern and apprehension on your face as you continued brushing the same spot you had been for the last five minutes. So, as he swoops down to plant a dry kiss on your temple he says softly that he'll talk with him. 

After supper one night, Scout had been told to wash up for bed early, and the three of you sat in the living room. You sat silently, listening to Jem and his father talk. You could tell he felt a little lighter after a progressive conversation about how he regarded the situation. You had remained silent for the most part but assured him this baby would never replace him, Scout, or the place that his late mother still had in the house. You also made sure he knew that if he had any questions or concerns, all he had to do was ask. 

Now, here you were at eight months, feeling like you were about to pop. Everything was a struggle now. It was hard to get comfortable, and being so pregnant in the summertime in the south was no easy feat. You had become practically incapacitated and cried to Atticus one Sunday morning before church that this would be your first and only pregnancy after not a single pair of shoes fit your swollen feet. He tried his best not to find humor in your drama and told you to stay home that morning and that he would return later with a proper pair of footwear for you. What would you do without that man? Most days, he helped you dress and prepare the nursery. You felt spoiled knowing how hard he worked in addition to coming home to work some more on the room or assisting you with tasks you could no longer complete alone. He never once complained; every time you asked him about it, he would simply smile, give you a quick kiss, and assure you that he was happy to help. The man was a godsend. 

It seemed that the last month or two of the pregnancy dragged on. This baby never wanted to come out, you thought to yourself when you woke up one morning. Atticus was already in his office, gathering his things for work that day. It was summer, the kids had no school, and you could hear Scout outside talking across the street to Miss Maudie. She was still staying with Stephanie Crawford. When asked if she was ever going to find a new home or place to stay, Maudie would simply roll her eyes and say it was better for her and Stephanie that she stick around. Though she never explicitly said, it was apparent that the two ladies didn't want to be alone. While Stephanie Crawford was not your first choice for help if you went into labor and Atticus was not home, it did bring some comfort that there were so many women close by to you during this time. 

You had gotten ready for the day and dressed as best you could before heading to the kitchen for some breakfast. Atticus and Jem sat at the table reading the paper; Scout had just returned from outside and was fixing herself a plate. You greeted them all with a good morning as well as Cal and thanked her for the scrumptious-smelling breakfast she had prepared. While Atticus was definitely a godsend in all of this, Calpurnia felt like God herself. She had been with you every step of the way when your husband could not be. Any strange symptom, she would reassure you; any craving– she would whip something up right away. She knew all the tips and tricks for getting on dresses with too many buttons or sleeping comfortably. There was nothing she couldn't do, and you swore this pregnancy would have been the end of you if she wasn't there. 

After finishing the section he was reading in the paper, Atticus rose from his seat and came over to you, offering to get your breakfast together so you could sit down. You thanked him with a small peck and heard Scout whisper to Jem that all you two do is kiss. He quickly told her to hush and returned to his paper (not because he disagreed, he just wanted to read the paper in peace). You couldn't help but chuckle as you walked over to sit beside her. She asked you how you were feeling as Atticus set down the plate before you and returned to his seat. 

"Scout, I swear this baby oughta to get here soon or I'm done for." You responded, circling a hand over your full-term belly. The look on her face makes you remember the girl had never really been around many pregnancies before, and so quickly you add, "I'm like an overfilled balloon!" so as to not alarm her so much. It seems to work as she giggles slightly and takes another bite of her food, and you do as well. Something you did not tell her about, though, was the cramping feelings you were getting this morning. You had false contractions before (the last two months, to your misery) and so you didn't really think anything of it. Boy, were you in for a surprise. 

As Scout finishes her breakfast and Jem with the paper, they declare they will be at Barker's Eddy to meet some friends and cool off on this hot summer day. When Atticus asks how they will be getting there and if they need a ride, they inform him that one of the boys on Jem's football team had gotten their license and would be picking them up. He tells them to be careful, and they run to their rooms to get their things. As they do, you feel another contraction coming on and brace yourself for the pain. After it subsides, Atticus asks if you're okay, to which you grumble and wave him off. He chuckles and goes back to reading the paper. Those boys and their goddamn paper, you think to yourself. The two of you make light conversation as you finish up your breakfast. You stand to take the plates from the table when you feel, yet again, another contraction. These were starting to become regular, every 20 minutes or so. It's just as you come to this realization that you feel a trickle down your leg. Your water had broken.

"Atticus…" you call to him in a shaky breath. "I think my water just broke."

He's out of the chair and next to you before you can even blink, coaxing you to sit down and hurriedly saying he's going to call the doctor. It all felt like it was happening so fast.

You had waited, obsessed, and waited some more for this day to come, and it was finally here. The times when you and your husband stayed up too late talking about what the baby would look like or fixing up the nursery were finally over, and the day was here. You thought the baby would be a boy with his father's disposition, similar to Jem. Atticus disagreed and assured you it would be a little girl with dark hair like Scout. You'd be finding out soon.  

Your daughter was born July 26th at one in the morning. She was 6.13 pounds, 20 inches long, and perfect. So absolutely perfect. Atticus had been by your side every step of the way until the delivery (not by choice; the doctor recommended it, and truth be told, you were a little glad he didn't have to see you in that state). He was back in the room to meet your daughter as soon as possible; you'd never seen him look so giddy. He comes and sits next to you on the bed, the entire time admiring the little girl bundled in your arms. He cradles her little head in his hand as you offer her to him, the tight-lipped smile he had never leaving his face. 

You place your daughter in his arms, she stirs and coos slightly as you do. Once the two of them are settled in, he wraps an arm around you and kisses you on the forehead.

"I'm so proud of you." He says quietly so as to not disturb the baby. You take his hand resting on your shoulder and lean further into him, both of you never once taking your eyes away from the little girl. 

"I couldn't have done it without you."

The two of you sit there in peace for a short while, taking in the moment as much as you can. Soon, he hands the baby back to you and declares that it's time for Scout and Jem to come meet her. He promised to keep their visit relatively short as you were hardly hanging on to consciousness at this point.

The children had gone to bed a few hours ago as it was late, and it was hard to tell how soon it would be before the baby came. They had gotten quite the shock when they came home from swimming to hear your cries and screams from the bedroom. They had wanted to see you and make sure you were okay but instead had been told to busy themselves helping Calpurnia and getting things ready for the next few days as your time would be taken up with all things baby. Atticus made sure to inform you that they were quite concerned for you and very anxious about meeting their younger sibling. 

At first, they enter the room groggy, but as soon as Scout sees you, she books it for the bed. Atticus tells her to calm herself and not to spook the baby. He walks with Jem over to the bed, his hand resting on his son's shoulder. Jem and Scout admire the child momentarily before they start asking about her. You tell them it's a baby girl and how much she weighs, how she doesn't have a name quite yet, and yes, they can hold her. You scoot over on the bed and make room for Scout, tiredly instructing her on how to position her arms. Atticus had moved to be by her side at this point, it was the first time she had ever held a baby. 

"Hey there, little one." She coos to the baby, running her index finger over the infant's soft cheek. "Nice to finally meet you. You got hair like mine!" she says sincerely before turning to you and exclaiming in a whisper: I knew it would be a girl! You chuckle at that, and her father does as well. Atticus was right, go figure. 

"You're a big sister now, Miss Jean Louise." You spoke as you softly stroked her hair. 

She held the baby for a few more minutes before passing her over to Jem. 

His reaction was much more subtle than Scout's, but the little smile that remained on his face and the look in his eye was enough validation for you. He wouldn't stop staring at her; you couldn't blame him. 

Much to your dismay, you were starting to drift off to sleep. It had been a very long day, and your body was exhausted. Atticus noticed this and made his way to take the baby from Jem. As he did, you regained consciousness long enough to see the boy place a very gentle kiss on her head. You couldn't help but lazily smile at the interaction.

The children bid you goodnight and return to their rooms, already giggling and chatting about their new sibling. 

You motion for Atticus to give you the baby after he closes the door behind them, but he shakes his head instead.

"I'll take care of her for now, sweet. We'll be alright." He let out a small sigh and gave the little girl a tight-lipped smile; you could tell he was also tired. "Rest, you need it." 

You were too tired to argue. "Let me give her a kiss goodnight."

He obliges and leans down so you can gently kiss her head. 

"And one for you too." 

You guide him down to you by his tie and press your lips to his. It was a long road to get here, but you made it, elated to have your little family. The moment ends shorter than you would have liked but you tell him thank you, and with that, you allow yourself to drift into slumber. 

Could you do an Atticus Finch x pregnant reader? The way u write atticus is SO good it feels so realistic

This is literally the sweetest thing omg!! That means so much, THANK YOU! I’m always nervous I wont do Atticus justice, I just love him so much. But to answer your question, yes! It just might take me a while is all, and I apologize in advance for that.

[mummyemmatojames]

22. Update on Grounding: A Tough Few Days, But Holding Firm

Hello, dear community! Emma here, your Mummy-in-training, with an update on how James’s four-day grounding as a toddler is going. We’re halfway through now, and I’ll be honest—it’s been hard on both of us. It’s a big shift for me to manage him at this level, and he’s clearly struggling with the restrictions. I wanted to share how it’s been unfolding and get your thoughts on sticking it out, because I’m feeling the strain but determined to see this through.

The Toll on Both of Us

This grounding has been a lot—more than I expected, if I’m being honest. For me, it’s a huge lift to look after James like a toddler. He has to ask permission for everything—to use the toilet, to grab a snack, to play with his Lego, even to get up in the morning—and it means I’m constantly needed. There’s no downtime; I’m always on, supervising him, making decisions, keeping him in line. It’s exhausting, and I’ve had moments where I’ve wondered if I bit off more than I can chew. But at the same time, I know this is what I signed up for as his Mummy—leading with strength, even when it’s tough.

For James, it’s been rough in a different way. He’s bored, cranky, and seems to hate every minute of it. The rules—bedtime at 7:30 PM with the routine starting at 6:30, sleeping in a onesie, needing my permission for everything, and his phone locked down to a 4+ age limit—have stripped away a lot of his usual freedom. I can see it wearing on him; he’s quieter than usual, with this undercurrent of frustration in his slumped shoulders and clipped responses. He’s not openly defying me, but I can tell he’s struggling to adjust to this toddler headspace, and it’s making him restless.

A Missed Night Out: The Breaking Point

Last night was probably the hardest moment so far. James had a work night out planned—a casual drinks thing with his team that he’d been looking forward to, especially since he’s been doing so well at his job lately. Under normal circumstances, I’d have let him go with the usual rules (no alcohol, home by bedtime), but with the grounding in place, I told him he couldn’t go. Instead, while his colleagues were out, he was tucked up in bed in his onesie by 7:30 PM, the baby monitor humming as I checked on him from downstairs. He didn’t argue when I told him, but his face said it all—pure disappointment and barely concealed anger. I heard him mutter something under his breath as I left the room, but he didn’t push it further. It was a stark reminder for him that this grounding isn’t just a minor inconvenience—it’s a real consequence.

Tempted to End Early, But Holding Firm

I’ll admit, there have been moments where I’ve been tempted to end this a day early. We’re both tired—me from the constant supervision, him from the boredom and restrictions—and last night, after tucking him in, I sat downstairs feeling drained and second-guessing myself. He looked so miserable when I turned off his light, and I hate seeing him like that. But every time I think about cutting it short, I stop myself—it feels like the wrong move. If I back down now, he’ll learn he can push boundaries and get off lightly, and we’ll be right back where we started with the rule-breaking that led to this in the first place. He needs to learn this lesson, and I need to prove to myself that I can lead with the strength our dynamic requires.

So, I’m holding firm. Two more days to go, and I’m planning to stick to the rules exactly as I laid them out—no softening, no exceptions. I’ll keep offering love and reassurance when he earns it—like a quick cuddle after he follows a rule well—but I’m keeping the toddler treatment in full force until the grounding is over. I’m hoping by the end, he’ll come out of this with a clearer understanding of consequences and a renewed respect for our boundaries.

What Do You Think?

I’d really love some encouragement or advice from the community—have you ever grounded your partner at a younger age like this? How did you handle the strain it put on both of you, and did it pay off in the long run? And if you’ve been tempted to end a punishment early, what kept you going—or did you find a way to adjust without losing the lesson?

Thank you for being here as we push through this challenging stretch. It’s tough, but I believe it’s what we need to get back to a stronger, clearer dynamic. I just hope James sees that too by the end.

With all my love (and a bit of exhaustion), Emma (aka Mummy) 💕