#I think I waited about 8 months for her which wasn’t too bad

[hollowrosedolls]

My full set Myou Vieruodis was delivered last night! She is so pretty and so tiny. While I love the outfit and shoes she came with, I’m not a big fan of the wig and will probably replace it at some point. I do like the color and length but the wig quality isnt great. There’s a lot thinning on the top of the wig. I guess the headdress covers it but I don’t plan on displaying her always in this outfit. Also the wig covers her cute elf ears! Unfortunately, it may be hard to find a good wig in her size that can show them off but I’m going to keep looking. Overall though I’m very happy with her!!

[yelenasdiary]

I have request for A widow's sunshine

Could you write a reader that is like fifteen or sixteen and she found out recently she's like lesbian and she comes out to her parents and also tells them she has been dating someone for awhile

Hope this made sense, English is not first language lol

Coming Out

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: You come out to your parents for the first time

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of Homophobia?, Mentions of fears of being disowned, if I missed any, please let me know | 0.9K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I am also open to an alternatives to this! If you want Reader to come out as anything, I would be happy to write it! 

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

For months now, you couldn’t come to terms with the feelings you were having. You knew deep down that your mothers wouldn’t judge you or disown you but still, the thought of coming out to your parents brought its worries. You’ve known since you started high school that you were a lesbian, you’ve never looked at a boy and thought about how they looked or ever having a little crush on any. But you found yourself crushing hard on a girl in your history class. 

Kate Bishop. What could you say about the girl with blue eyes and long dark hair without falling harder for her? She was funny, carefree and extremely skilled at archery. You ended up helping her with some history homework which is how the two of you formed a friendship, a friendship which soon led to a relationship. Being a sixteen-year-old and having a girl in your room wasn’t something that your parents worried about, in fact, they never had a reason to worry. You’d never been open about your sexuality with them, but you also almost never showed them any interest in a romantic life for them to have questions about. 

Well, Wanda did. Sometimes you’d come home from Kate’s house with a flustered look and your lips as red as strawberries. She didn’t want to scare you or make you think you were in trouble for anything, but it was something Wanda noticed and did bring up to Nat who was now her wife of 8 years. 

You wanted to tell them; you really did. You wanted them to meet Kate and for Kate to meet them but any time you thought to bring it up, your stomach turned and suddenly you were telling Kate that you couldn’t do it. But something changed in you tonight. It was time and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let the feeling in your stomach change your mind. 

Wanda and Nat were washing up the dishes from dinner, Wanda handing the wet plates to Nat to dry and put away when you had interrupted them. “Is everything okay love?” Wanda asked, drying her hands on the clean hand towel. You nodded, “I just need to talk to you both about something, its important” you replied. 

“Okay, how about we sit in the dining room” Your mother, Nat, suggested in a soft tone. You smiled softly in reply before wandering into the dining room and taking a seat, waiting for your mothers to take theirs. They sat together across from you, looking at them as they waited for you to speak only made your stomach turn more than before. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes dropped to your hands that were in your lap as you picked at your nails. 

“I….I don’t know how to say it” you said almost too quietly. 

“Whatever it is honey, we are here to listen” Nat replied, “did something happen?” She asked. You shook your head, “N-no, thing has happened, but something might?” You looked up slowly. Your reply only worried your mothers more. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?” Wanda asked. You could tell by your mom’s tone that your comment added more to their worries. 

“I mean-“ you sighed, trying to rack your brain for the right words to form but all you could think of was how nervous you were feeling and how you were starting to think this was a bad idea. “Y/n, it’s okay, just say whatever comes to mind” Nat said softly. You looked to her and nodded, taking a moment to gather yourself. 

“Well, I guess I know you both won’t judge or disown me, but I guess I am just worried about others” you started, “Mom, Ma, I like girls and I have a girlfriend” the words flew from your lips. Both of your mothers smiled at you, “oh honey, how long have you had that built up?” Wanda asked. 

“I guess I’ve known I’m a lesbian for a year but Kate and I, we started dating two months ago” you replied with honesty. 

“Kate as in your friend Kate? The one you have study dates with?” Nat asked, just wanting to know more about the young teen who has stolen your heart. You nodded, “I really want you guys to meet her, like properly. Not just in passing when you pick me up from school”

“We would love to meet her” Nat replied with another soft smile, “but you are studying at those study dates, right?” She added slightly rising her brow. Your eyes widened at her suggestion, and you were quick to close those thoughts down. “Yes, I promise!” You replied. 

“Sweetheart, what did you mean that you’re worried about what others might think? has somebody said something?” Wanda asked, bring the topic back to your comment that she couldn’t forget. 

“Oh, I guess I was just overthinking things” you said. Your mind now reminding you that all the people who love you would never judge you for this, if they were to do so, they would be judging your parents as well and you knew that would never go down well. 

“How do you feel about Kate coming over for dinner tomorrow night? I’ll cook” Wanda smiled. 

“I’d really like that” you replied, trying to hide the giddy smile that tugged at your lips, “so would Kate” you added.

Natasha stood up and walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on the top of your head, “we love you so much” she whispered, “and I’m really happy for you detka” she added. Her loving support really helped push any other negative thoughts you were having away. You knew you could never doubt the love and support from your parents and you were glad you were finally confident enough to open up to them.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Co-Stars pt.10

Callum Turner X Actress! Reader

Summary: The journey of Y/n's pregnancy...

Warning: pregnancy/ mentions of throwing up/ mention of birth/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 2.1k

When she found out she was pregnant, Y/n was the happiest she’d ever been, but this happiness quickly faded into worry. She and her baby daddy were celebrities, her pregnancy was going to be all over social medias, her baby too. Callum and she talked about it and decided they wanted to keep it private. They told the cast that she was pregnant, because they should know, and their press tour wasn’t over. Yes, Master of the Air was out already, but the interviews didn’t stop. During the first weeks of her pregnancy, it was easy to hide, her belly was flat, and she didn’t have any symptoms. But as she was in her 7th week, she started to get morning sickness.

-

She tried to listen to all the questions and the answers of her co-stars, but she felt like throwing up. Luckly for her, the microphone wasn’t attached to her, it was a microphone that she held in her hand. She put it far away from her, so the public won’t hear her humming, it was a tip Callum’s mom gave to her to prevent her from throwing up. But it didn’t work. ‘’Nate, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I must go to the bathroom’’ she tried to hide her sickness in her voice. She got up and walked quickly backstage. ‘’Yeah, we can take a break, after Nate’s answer of course’’ The interviewer said. ‘’Oh, I was done, we can take a five-minute break’’ he said. Y/n was running to the bathroom, but an assistant was running next to her with a trash bin, in case she didn’t make it. She pulled the trash bin as she sat on a chair to empty her stomach in the trash. Callum walked up to her and pressed his hand on her back, to support her. He held her hair as she continued to puke her guts out. ‘’I’m sorry, I tried not to, but – ‘’ she threw up again. Austin and Anthony walked up to the couple; Nate was behind them. ‘’If my answer was that bad, you could’ve told me’’ he joked. Y/n looked at him, rolling her eyes before wiping her mouth with a tissue.

-

For the first few months, she succeeded in hiding her condition, but when her belly started to grow, it became harder. Her outfits became more baggy, which the internet found weird since she was always beautifully dressed. Some fans started to speculate about Y/n being pregnant, but the rumours stayed low. But when she reached mid second trimester, she decided to stop doing interviews, it was too risky. Now, the fans started to speculate, even the actors were asked questions about her not being with them anymore. They dodged the question and protected the secret of their colleague. Callum found it difficult, when she was with him, he could make sure that she was okay, now she was at home, he found it hard.

-

‘’The fans can’t stop asking about you, I think you should come to the next interview’’ Callum said, looking at his girlfriend, who was 8 months pregnant, with twins. It’s been a long time since she was in front of a camera, but he was right, the fans were becoming too much, and she should make a public appearance. ‘’Yeah, where’s the next one?’’ she asked, pushing on her arms to sit on the couch. ‘’It’s tomorrow, and it’s close, not a long drive’’ he said. ‘’Good, because the twins won’t be happy with me, dressing up and moving that much’’ she laughed. Her pregnancy was going well, because her doctor told her that if she wanted to go back to work, she could.

-

She was nervous, but the guys were so sweet. They were backstage, waiting for the interviewer to call them. ‘’It’s nice to see you back!’’ Ralf said, smiling. ‘’Thanks, I missed you guys’’ she breathed out. ‘’So please give it up for Austin Butler, Callum Turner, Anthony Boyle, Nate Mann, Ralf Laur, Barry Keoghan and the wonderful Y/n Y/l/n!’’ when the crowd heard her name, they made so much noise she thought the walls were going to collapse. But when they say her pregnant belly, the sound level exploded. Y/n smiled and waved at the crowd. She sat next to Callum and Austin. After minutes, the crowd finally went silent. ‘’Wow, you guys missed me that much?’’ Barry joked; he missed the last interview. Everyone laughed and waited for Y/n’s replies. ‘’Yes Barry, they were screaming for you’’ she teased, looking at him. She winked at the crowd and smiled. ‘’How are you, Y/n?’’ someone in the crowd yelled. ‘’I’m heavily pregnant with twins, thank you very much, how are you’’ she replied. The public laughed. ‘’Joke’s aside, I’m really great, I’m happy to be back’’ she said. The interview went well, but now, it was time for the public to ask questions. ‘’Before we start with the questions, please respect my private life, I will gladly answer your questions, but don’t push it’’ Y/n said. ‘’Hi everyone, I wanted to ask what’s a character trait or habit that stayed with you after filming?’’ the fan asked. Y/n raised her brows, the question was really good. The cast looked at each other, wondering who was going to go first. ‘’Well, Rose is a complex character. Uh, the thing I learned with her is that everyone is not invincible, it sounds stupid, but we often think that people, especially selfless people, can break sometimes and as a person that puts others first, it made me realise how important talking about it is. It might not be clear, but yeah, we’re all humans and you don’t know what people are going through.’’ She said, trying to be clear. The guys nodded. She smiled as she felt her babies kick, they were agreeing with her. Others answered and the microphone was passed to another fan. ‘’Hi, Y/n, Callum, how do you deal with the attention you’ve been getting since the beginning of the press tour?’’ one of the fans asked. They both looked at each other. ‘’It’s a lot, and we try to contain it, so it doesn’t affect people around us, like when Y/n posted the pictures on her Instagram and people were speculating about it, we had to ask Graham Norton to talk about our show, because that’s why we’re doing interviews, promote Master of the Air. So, we like it, but it can’t take too much in our lives’’ Callum said. ‘’That’s mainly one of the reasons why I came here today, people were only asking questions about me. So, we love it, but like Callum said, we love the attention, as long as it doesn’t become too much’’ she added.

It was time for the last question, fans were respectful with Y/n’s pregnancy, and she was grateful for it. ‘’Hi, Y/n I love you so much! Can I ask about what changed since you’re pregnant?’’ the fan was so sweet. ‘’Hi, uh, other than my body, my mentality changed a lot. I’m slowly realizing all the responsibilities that’s going to come with having twins. I also started to understand what parents mean when they say that it goes too fast. So, I’m understanding that I’m going to be a mother and it’s going to change me forever. But my body is the main change’’ she laughed. ‘’Do you know what you’re having, yet?’’ Anthony asked. ‘’Yes’’ she looked at Callum. ‘’We’re having two little girls’’ he said. The crowd cheered on the couple. ‘’Awn, do you have names yet?’’ Austin asked. They both nodded. ‘’We’re going to keep it secret until they come out, but yeah, we got it all figured out, the only thing that we don’t know is who the godfather is going to be’’ Y/n said. Barry and Anthony lifted their hand at the same time, making everyone laugh. ‘’You’re the godmother of my son, me!’’ Barry exclaimed, making Y/n laugh even more. ‘’We’ll come back to that later’’ Callum said, since his girlfriend was laughing too much, and wasn’t able to speak.

-

Austin sat at the end of the table; they were going to tell him that they wanted him to be the godfather. ‘’Why does this feel like an interrogation’’ he laughed. ‘’Sorry, we have something to ask you’’ Callum starts. ‘’Um, we want you to be the godfather of our girls’’ Y/n says, smiling. ‘’Are you joking?’’ he asks, smiling. ‘’No, we’re serious. You’ve always been there for us, and we want you to be there for our girls.’’ Callum explains. Austin’s eyes fill with tears as he nods. ‘’I would love to be the godfather of the babies you’re carrying’’ he says, looking at Y/n. When Austin stops talking, Y/n feels the babies kick, and they kick hard because she can see her belly move. ‘’I think they approved our choice’’ she laughs as she shows the two men the fight that’s taking place in her stomach.

-

The closer they were from the due date; the more Callum was freaking out and the more calm Y/n was. Frankly, Callum couldn’t understand how she was calm, she was about to push two babies out of her and looked like she came back from a Spa in Bali. ‘’Callum, honey, you’re giving me a headache, calm down. Everything is fine, I’m only 2 centimeters dilated, they can put me in the hospital when I’m at 3, we live 8 minutes away. It’s going to be fine’’ she giggled, seeing her boyfriend pacing around the living room. ‘’You are being too calm and it’s stressing me!’’ he said, looking at her. Y/n smiled and tried not to laugh. When she felt another contraction, she gave him a look, telling him to come sit down next to her so he could support her. But since he was stressing her, she asked him to go in their room and get her a new shirt, she was sweating. She breathed her way through it and timed it. She got up to walk around the house, in hope of making the contractions painless, but when she stood up, her water broke. ‘’Honey, don’t panic, but my water just broke’’ she shouted to Callum, he was in the other room. ‘’WHAT? IT’S HAPPENING?!’’ he yelled from their bedroom. ‘’Yes, it is’’ she replied.

-

Daisy Rose Turner and Ophelia Mary Turner, that was the name of the two newborns. Callum was holding Daisy, and Austin, who Y/n called to help Callum calm down, held Ophelia. Y/n was sleeping, the labour and delivery went on for 11 hours, she was a trooper. She did get the epidural, but her body was tired. Callum was so happy, he called his mom, telling her that his girls had her names as a middle name was something he was looking forward to ever since they decided on their names. When he broke the news, his mom immediately started to cry. Telling her son how proud of him she was and how excited she was to be a grandmother. ‘’Kaia was right, your children are so beautiful’’ Austin whispered. Callum smiled and looked at his daughters. ‘’Like their mother’’ he whispered back. Minutes later, Y/n woke up, she was still tired. ‘’Hey, how did you sleep?’’ Callum asked. ‘’Good, where are the girls?’’ she asked. ‘’The nurse took them to do their tests, Austin followed them.’’ He reassured her. She was traumatized by the baby kidnapping in Jane the Virgin, that was something she said to Callum very early in her pregnancy: You always follow our baby. In this case, babies. ‘’Thank you for making me a father, that’s something I’ve always dreamed about and I’m so grateful that you’re the mother of my girls.’’ Callum said, kissing her hand. Y/n was smiling, tears of joy immediately fell on her cheeks. ‘’And I’m ecstatic that you’re the father of my babies. I love you, Callum’’ she said, with a gentle voice. ‘’I love you too, Y/n’’

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:57 pm]

(cw: cursing, suggestive ending, f!reader)

Jaehyun was anxiously waiting for a text, a call, something from you. It was Halloween and Jaehyun was at work while you were going out with your best friends. While Jaehyun wouldn’t call himself possessive, he respected your autonomy and wanted you to live your life to the fullest, but he wanted to be there living life right by your side. He also knew that while you were going out partying and no doubt drinking a little that people could get crazy and he wanted you to be safe.

Not to mention he knew you’d be going out looking gorgeous. He tried to focus on the dance moves being taught, but his mind was stuck on trying to remember what you were going to dress up as. Something “so cute” he remembers you saying but somewhere in your rambling about how you were buying the accessories and your best friend was buying the main outfit you got distracted and began telling Jaehyun all about your best friend’s horrible boyfriend. All he could remember was how this guy had moved out of your best friend’s apartment for the second time that month. You were so excited to be going out so you could get her mind off the guy.

We’re you both going to be nurses? No, it was something more flowy and sparkly. Princesses? That could be it. He was feeling a little more secure thinking that even if the costumes were on the sexy side, a corset could only show so much. He breathed out a relived sigh and focused on the footwork of the new dance.

“Go ahead and take 10 minute break, nice work,” the choreographer smiled.

Jaehyun was quick to get to his phone, scrolling through his notifications to look for a text or missed call. There was neither. The best was a notification that you had posted on your story. It was a short boomerang of your hand clinking shot glasses with your best friend. Unfortunately there was no glimpse of the costumes besides bare skin and sparkly arms. He texted you quickly, wishing you a safe, fun night and reminding him to text him when you were ready to be picked up.

You had extended the invitation, telling him that he could join you after he was done with practice. He had declined at first, he would be too tired, he wasn’t a huge Halloween guy, and he didn’t want to go out shopping for a cheap costume he’d only wear once. He was starting to rethink that decision now.

With his mind too preoccupied the rest of the practice went by quickly. Which turned out to be a bad thing… with nothing else to occupy his mind he was anxiously checking his notifications and refreshing his socials. You hadn’t posted anything since the first video almost an hour ago.

Thank god he followed your best friend. She has posted a video of the two of you in her apartment before going out, posted just half an hour ago. His jaw dropped, his mouth watered, and his mind went blank at the sight of you. You were dressed as a fairy, that much was clear with the wings strapped to your back and the flower crown on your head. That wasn’t what was driving him crazy, however. No it was the damn “costume” your best friend picked out, if you could even call it that. You were dressed in a light pink babydoll, split down the front to show off some skin of your abdomen, held together at the top with a beautiful white bra covered in pink lace. It was a piece of lingerie and I barely covered your ass!

If anyone asked how many times he had watched the video he wouldn’t be able to tell them, his eyes were first stuck on how gorgeous you looked, then how jealous he was to not be there with you, and how he hoped your best friend had chosen some little shorts instead of sexy underwear. He doubted she did, she was trying to make her piece of shit boyfriend jealous, so of course she’d buy matching underwear! Why was Jaehyun, the not piece of shit boyfriend, being punished? Why did the universe hate him?

He continued to refresh anything he could in the hopes of more videos, a message, a text, something else to keep him occupied. You had posted a video of the club you were both at, the light, the disco ball, your best friend, things he didn’t care about in the moment.

And for another 2 hours there was nothing, until you texted him asking him to pick you up. He was out the door in a second, he had been ready to pick you up the second he got home from practice.

He pulled up outside of the club and let you know he was there. He waited all of 3 minutes before he saw you legs and thin, shiny straps of your heels wrapping up your bare leg with tiny butterflies here and there. Then you were in the car smiling brightly at Jaehyun in the driver’s seat.

“Hi baby, thanks for picking me up,” you told him and you pulled on the seatbelt.

Jaehyun felt like an idiot, his mouth was moving but no noise came out. You were sitting right beside him looking absolutely ethereal with a pretty smile just for him. His eyes traveled all over your body, the sparkles on your collar bone, the sliver of skin he saw from the slit of the babydoll, and the never ending amount of skin that was your legs.

“H-hey baby,” he cleared his throat, “I was expecting two passengers tonight.”

You sighed with a roll of your eyes, “her ex was at the club and she disappeared into a bathroom with him. I wish you had come with us so I could have had fun with you instead of her ditching me.”

Jaehyun smiled to himself, eyes focused on the road ahead of him, “we can have fun at home baby.”

“But the night is already over and these wings are hurting me. Plus, you don’t even have a costume.”

“Different kind of fun, baby. So you can show me the intended purpose of that little costume.”

[vodkababy]

love story . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁💐

౨ৎ inspired with the song love story by indila !!

౨ৎ s1! rafe x fem! pogue! reader

౨ৎ angst, mentions of drugs, drinking, & fluff

౨ৎ takes place in midsummers - rafey baby so handsome there

you met him at that state he was - relying on barry and his coke to calm his senses down. soon along, you became friends. he was your rock, and you were his.

of course - his sister, sarah had seen the unmistaken look in her troubled brother’s eyes, of which ones were dilated & jittery by the euphoria had turned serene and much more.. adoring?

no. that didn’t sound like the big bad rafe everyone knew and had on their books.

he had changed - because of a stupid girl. a stupid pogue. surely, he wouldn’t let that affect his family’s name! but god, he was wrong.

he’d grown fond of you, come to think of it - you weren’t like “your people” as he said it. he’d seen her as a sweet and caring person— something he lacked in his life.

so as you and him exchanged glances at the country club— you were a bartender, just serving him a glass of wine— you couldn’t help but be drawn to the man who sat across you in that little taupe barstool.

“i haven’t seen you here,” the blue eyed boy stared at you up and down.

“i just started a couple days ago.” she replied softly.

it only started like that. what could possibly go wrong?

it wasn’t until 10 months into it. midsummers was nearing— rafe had invited you to be his plus one. he was shy- a little bit jittery- and he handed you a flower.

“for me?” she said in awe, looking at the peony he had gotten her.

“yes you.” rafe had replied— coldly. he didn’t want to come off like a pussy, as his friends top and kelce called him for being too shy.

apart from you being a pogue, he had no issues. you were the first one he didn’t get into bad terms with, which surprisingly shocked you. —and shocked him too. he didn’t expect to fall hard, head over heels for you.

that led to him, on the following night of the next friday—waiting.

you had doubts, being a pogue in an all-kook annual party, you had your dress ready, hair done, but what else was there to it? you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t bring yourself to walk to your car to drive to figure 8. you couldn’t let yourself ruin the cameron name. you would never make an attempt to embarrass your lover. you were just a bartender— not some silverspoon-born girl.

he had a rose in his hand, constantly pacing across the room, his hand running through his hair, pushing it back. he felt himself getting hot, the camerons were about to come out, so where were you?

surely— you wouldn’t blow him off; he thought.

was he crazy? he kept checking his phone, looking at your contact. he checked your photos on his phone gallery, trying to calm himself down.

“rafe!” rose, his step-mother calls, telling him they have to go out of the door since the party’s starting. he runs a hand through his hair, and tries to breathe calmly.

the whole party, he had expected you to be with him. he had expected your hand in his, your arm linked with his, and your head on his shoulder. but where were you to be found?

he quickly typed on your contact;

—where are you sent 7:22

you immediately see the notification pop up, you were crying, you couldn’t bring yourself to text him back. you were breaking his heart and yours too.

it had been minutes since he sent that. no text backs?

—y/n sent 7:31

—why aren’t you here?? sent 7:32

—i thought you were coming w me sent 7:32

—i even bought you a damn dress sent 7:32

—y/n answer right fucking now sent 7:34

that was all it took to piss rafe off. you were blowing him off? he was furious— almost crushed a glass on how hard he was gripping it.

the whole night, he couldn’t sleep. what were you doing? all he could think of was you. does she even like me? does she still care? he sees you everywhere.

the next day, he checked his phone. no reply. he decided to drive to the country club in which— you were working at.

he was surprised to hear you didn’t come in this morning, supposedly calling in sick. lies. he thought. he knew you had a brain on you, and that you were quite smart in times like these. but right now, it wasn’t helping.

for the past week—he had been driving to the country club everyday, checking on you. which was not left unnoticed by ward.

“the fuck is on my credit card bills, boy? all from the country club?” ward asked rafe furiously.

“it’s just drinks.” rafe answered defensively, not wanting to talk to his dad anymore.

“put it on your card! not mine. you have your own card for that—“

“look, dad— the money—“

“what about the goddamn money!? you out of cash, rafe? see. this is what happens if you don’t bother to be responsible, to think! you don’t think, rafe! and to say i was the one who raised you.. god.” ward answered hastily, leaving the room with him massaging his own temples.

rafe was outraged. this whole week had turned for the worse, you were supposed to be there for him. but where were you?

his frustration brought him back to his worst behaviors. he spent his days at barry’s. snorting the white lines of fine powder.

“country club. what’s gotten you all knees for the c dust?”

“hard week, barry. don’t remind me.” rafe answered angrily, just wanting to get over it.

“i hear you haven’t been seein’ your girl, huh?”

“—so what!?”

“chill, chill, you’re actin’ out. she’s a pogue.”

“i haven’t seen her in a goddamn week. i don’t fuckin’ care if she’s one. she’s everything i think of, fuck.”

and that led to him, driving to your house at the cut. hearing a knock on your door, your mom calls you to open it while she was in the kitchen.

“rafe—“ she spoke softly, until she got cut off by his lips on hers. he smelled of beer. had he been drinking?

worried, she pulled him up to her room secretly. looking around to see if anyone was near them or could hear.

“have you been drinking?” she asked sadly. what had she done? all of that because of her? only a lazy nod was what she got from him, quickly laying him down on her bed.

“i’m sorry rafe.”

“what happened y/n? i thought you were gonna come and you’d be my date— i even bought you a fucking dress. a goddamn dress because i wanted you to look gorgeous that night. and what do i get? a dead rose and an absent woman—“

“i’m so sorry, please i promise you i am-“

“promise me.. everything’s alright between us baby.” rafe spoke softly with a drawl, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with yours as he stared at the ceiling. the lights were off and his only source was the one coming from the moon out the window, that cascaded your features.

“i do,” she replied with her voice slightly breaking. she leant down to hug him tight. she felt so sorry for him.

“i just- i dream of you. i- i fucking want you with me y/n, baby, stay with me, but i don’t- i don’t know how to love..” “fuck. i’m such a mess. dad’s on my ass again about the money- then you go fucking vague!”

“rafe, rafe, i’m so-“

“no, stop! just please- stop saying that.”

“i didn’t want- i couldn’t go anymore. i’m not rich, rafe. i’m not a kook for crying out loud! i just- i just didn’t wanna embarrass you,“

“no, baby, don’t say that,” he said, wrapping her lips in his.

“i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you gold if you don’t care, i’ll wait for you, i don’t give a fuck if you’ll ignore me- i’d even kill for you, baby.” rafe muttered.

she only looks at him with tears in her eyes, him wrapping his arms around her, wiping her tears away and kissing her.

“don’t fuckin’ pull shit like that on me again, mkay?” he hummed against her lips aggressively, pulling away.

“i’m sorry,” she sighed, feeling a tear stab my eye. “i just—didn’t want to try to fit in to be someone i’m not.” “i’m so sorry rafe,” she softly sobbed in his arms.

“shh, shh, it’s just you and me baby, i love you.” he whispered, rubbing your back.

“—i love you too.” she replied. nobody would possibly believe it but, love makes a fool of the kook king

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ 💐 ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ .

by drewsprettygirl 𝜗𝜚

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 4]

Summary: Mary can't think straight; at least, not about anything but you. He's angry, and he's hurt - rightly so - but he can't help the feeling that he's missing something. His spider senses are tingling, and his saviour complex is nagging in his head...

Meanwhile, you're dragged to a formal dinner at the Town Hall with your father's sleazy political associates. What could possibly go wrong?

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Angst, childhood memories/trauma, alcoholism, addiction, minor drug use, creepy men being creepy, unwanted physical touch/harassment, abandonment, panic attacks

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake for workshopping and beta reading this fic with me! I live for their reactions every time I sent them an idea or a draft... 🤭 This chapter got away from me, as so many do, and ending up pretty damn long... Enjoy!

He had to be quick. Any longer, and he might be chased out. But he couldn’t help himself... he wanted to look, to touch...  

“HEY!” A gruff male voice shouted from somewhere behind him. Mary startled, stumbling back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “These are for people who know what they’re doing, not little hooligans!”  

The store clerk came rushing over, coming in between Mary and the beautiful Gibson Les Paul on display, hung up on the wall amongst the others. The body shone in a stunning hue of deep red wood, orange bursting from the fret board. He’d always dreamt of owning a guitar like this – or any at all. He just wanted to pick one up, to learn, to play.  

“S-sorry mister... I didn’t mean to-” 

“Go on, out with you! Comin’ in here every damn day, gettin’ in the way of my customers. Go on, get!” The old man shooed a 10-year-old Mary out of the store, shutting the door in his face and folding his arms behind the glass, watching until Mary finally sagged his little shoulders and sighed to himself, trudging down the sidewalk with his head hung low.  

Other people were allowed in to look at the guitars, to touch them, test them; why wasn’t he? Sure, he knew he was a kid but he wasn’t a bad kid... He knew he could never afford a guitar like that Les Paul, but oh how he dreamed of owning his own guitar. Just a little acoustic thing to practise on. He'd put in the work, he’d swear it. He just wanted to learn.  

Still, Mary headed home with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low, avoiding the eyes of the adults around town who looked down on him with looks of either disgust or pity; he was never sure which was worse.  

“Mom?” he called out as he walked into the small and run-down little apartment block on the edge of town. They’d had to move in here almost a six months ago after his father left, unable to afford much else on his mother’s salary; her job at the local diner didn’t pay well. 

Music from the radio filtered through the hall, along with the smell of yesterday’s spaghetti being reheated on the stove. “In here, baby,” a weak shout came from the kitchen. She sounded weaker with each week that passed, barely eating and drinking far too much to be considered healthy at all. Mary had spotted that, not totally understanding the ramifications of it at his tender age but he was wiser beyond most 10-year-old’s years. That’s the thing about a shitty childhood; you grow up quick. 

Still, he was grateful his father was out of the picture now. Honestly? The lesser of two evils. It was better him gone than be here still, hurting everybody around him. 

Mary headed into the kitchen, sitting down at the small table for the two of them and waiting patiently as his mum stirred the pot over the stove, her back to him. He watched as her left hand lifted a glass from beside the stove; a wine glass, half-filled with the cheapest red on the market. 

“Good day?” she asked, looking briefly over her shoulder. Mary just shrugged; he hadn’t paid much attention in school, and he didn’t want to tell her about being chased out of the music store. Although he wasn’t sure what he’d done to get kicked out, he still lived under the assumption it was somehow his fault.  

His mother hummed along to the radio as she heated their food, taking gulps of the wine to her left and refilling it before plating up two small bowls of food – hers noticeably smaller – and sitting opposite Mary as she placed them down. 

“Thank you,” he smiled at her shyly, never forgetting his manners as he tucked into his meal. His mother smiled fondly at her boy, twirling her fork in the pasta noodles as she sipped her wine. The radio played to fill the silence, songs from another decade that had his mother reminiscing over happier years. 

As he chewed, he thought back to that guitar, how he’d do anything to have one like that. But he’d settle for a smaller, cheaper, second-hand one. He’d be delighted with one. He just wanted to learn how to play, and then maybe one day, his mom could hum along to his songs on her radio.  

“Ma, I think I know what I want for my birthday...” 

“Oh? Well good! I was wondering when you’d give me some ideas,” she smiled. Mary hesitated, chewing his lip. Was he asking for too much? Perhaps, but he had to try at least. “Come on, baby, what is it?”  

“Well... can I get a guitar? Not like, an expensive one or anything... Just second-hand or something. I wanna learn to play, Ma. I think I’d get real good at it!” he rambled, his excitement barely contained as he thought about how people might change how they saw him if he could prove he was good at something, that he could work hard and prove himself.  

His mother’s smile faltered, fading as she dropped her fork against her bowl and grabbed her wine glass, finishing the rest of it off and pouring herself another hefty glass.  

“Baby, guitars aren’t cheap, even the second-hand ones...” she began, her voice quiet and full of regret. 

“No, I know, but I thought, maybe if I could get a job somewhere, I could mow lawns or something, maybe help Mr Rogers at the carpenters or get a paper route, then maybe I could-” 

“Baby you’re ten years old, you should just be a kid as long as you can,” she smiled sadly, her eyes betraying her as they glassed over with tears. It broke her heart to see her little boy so desperate to be a man, to help her, to help pay for his own damn birthday present.  

“I... I can still be a kid, I just thought I could help?” he questioned. 

“I just don’t think I can afford it baby...” Mary’s shoulders slumped, his own fork dropping into his bowl as he sat back against the chair in defeat.  

“Could you stop buying wine for a little, Ma? I just really want a guitar... And then you can get more again. Just for a bit, I promise!”  

If her heart wasn’t already breaking for her little boy, it did then. The guilt rose like bile in her throat, her eyes staring at the bottle on the table, her glass emptied again and the taste lingering on her tongue. She’d had her own selfishness reflected back at her, a mirror held up to the truth; the truth being that her lips were stained with the red of her addiction, paired with her sunken eyes, bearing the weight of her sorrow. 

She should try, she thought to herself. For him, for her little Mary. He never asked her for anything, and the one thing he wants in the world for his birthday was a crummy little second-hand guitar? She should be able to give him that; as a mother, she wanted to give him the world. He certainly deserved it after all he’d been through.  

“I-I’ll... I’ll try, Mary. I’ll really try,” her voice cracked, swallowing the guilt down and forcing the tears to recede. Mary nodded to himself, looking down into his bowl and back to hers that even untouched, still had less in than his half-eaten leftovers.  

He stood up, the bowl in his hands and placed it down in front of her. She needed to eat more, he thought.  

“Oh, baby no, it’s okay. You should ea-” 

“I’m not that hungry, Ma. Please take it.” 

She stopped protesting, nodding as she held a shaking hand out to hold his cheek, stroking her thumb over the pudge he was yet to grow out of with a gentle smile.  

“Thank you, angel,” she told him, pressing a wine-stained kiss to his forehead. “I promise, I’ll try harder.” 

Deft fingers plucked at the strings of a battered old acoustic guitar. The wood was splintering where the neck met the body, the varnish worn down in places that hands would dance over as it had been played to within an inch of its life. Stickers littered the body, hiding nicks and damages from over the years but they too were beginning to wear down to white patches of nothing.  

Still, she sang like a dream the way she always had. Mary’s skilled hands worked her strings mindlessly, drifting from riffs he’d learned of his favourite bands over the years to riffs of his own he’d written – the most recent sounding much more melancholy than he’d anticipated.  

Sitting in his dimly lit studio apartment, he reclined against the wall at the head of his bed with his first guitar in his lap. His intention had been to drift off into his own world, to write some riffs for songs he could present to the guys and form into tracks for upcoming shows, but he’d been unable to focus, his fingers working on muscle memory alone as his head drifted to the same thing he’d thought of for the last few days.  

He’d had time to calm down, for the fog of anger to dissipate and now he’d entered the reflection stage. The anger morphed into hurt, reminded once again that no matter if you wanted him or not, you still were ashamed to be seen with him. He didn’t fit your image, his mere existence in your life was inconvenient and a black stain on your pristine white image.  

He wondered if cleaning himself up was an option for a brief moment. What if he didn’t paint his face? What if he wore a shirt instead of his cut off band tees? What if he styled his hair different? All the ‘what if’s swam around his head, but they’d be lies. Mary was many things, but never a phony. He refused to bow down to public opinion and become one of the masses if it meant sacrificing everything that was genuinely him.  

He decided he’d rather be hated for who he was, than adored for something he wasn’t. Which is exactly the life you were living. 

You’d chosen a world where people loved you, fell at your feet to be known by you and yet somewhere along the way, you’d sacrificed whoever you truly were, covered it up with bows and frills and shiny trinkets. He almost felt sorry for you.  

Still, he couldn’t swallow the nagging feeling that he’d done something wrong, that he was letting you slip through his fingers. He wasn’t dumb; Mary knew there was more to you than this image. He’d seen glimpses of it, this vulnerable yet feisty woman clawing at you from inside. Frankly, you drove him crazy. He'd never wanted anything for himself so badly in his life, except maybe the guitar in his hands. He couldn’t lay his eyes on you without wanting you; perhaps up until recently, he thought that was simply physical attraction, a need to take you and have you both coming undone together.  

But the way you plagued his mind, how he thought of you during the smallest moments of peace to himself... he was beginning to understand he’d formed a kind of connection with you he couldn’t begin to explain. But he was starting to recognise a feeling within himself that stung like rubbing alcohol on a wound, a feeling that shot him right back to his childhood, to a place so painful he’d shoved it down and ignored it for years.  

Before he could go down that route, his shook his head to rid the memories and lay his guitar gently beside him, reaching for his smokes on his nightstand. Lighting one up with his zippo lighter, he rested himself back against the wall, swiping a hand down his face in exasperation. He’d spent too long on this, too many moments infiltrated by thoughts of you.  

If Mary was being honest with himself, he only had to ask himself one simple question; were you worth compromising everything he knew about himself? Were you worth him changing himself, becoming something he wasn’t so he could be ‘acceptable’ in your world? 

No.  

Because that was a world that would only ever see him as a delinquent. They had when he was a child, a teenager and now into adulthood. The second they’d known who his father was, who his mother was, they’d judged him. That would never change, so why should he? 

The town hall ballroom was the last fucking place you wanted to be at any given moment, let alone when it was filled with governors, police chiefs, politicians and seedy businessmen. If you’d had your way, you’d have stayed tucked up in bed, like you’d spent most of your spare time in the last week or so since the Bicentennial fair. Facing reality was something you’d tried to avoid, but that wasn’t going to be possible for Daddy’s big dinner party for all the town’s biggest officials. 

No, you were to be paraded like a shiny trophy daughter tonight, mingling with the rich and seedy underbelly of your father’s political career. These people made your stomach turn and your skin crawl. You observed them from the corner of the room, a glass of prosecco in a hand covered by white satin gloves to the elbow, in a fancy, floor-length, glittered evening dress of the same pale peach colouring as the bubbly. Your mother had picked the outfit, “elegance with a touch of sparkle” she had said. 

Watching them mingle and chatter away, you could barely help the expression on your face turning to one of vague disgust. Your father made his way around the room, shaking hands and rubbing shoulders with the elite while your mother followed in tow, laughing at all the jokes she must have heard a thousand times over the years and nattering with the wives in the room about the latest gossip.  

Shallow; all of this was so fucking shallow. But the worst part? This was your future. Your mother... her life was the future your father had paved for you, expected you to walk. You couldn’t think of anything worse.  

“Pumpkin! Come and say hello to Mr. Nelson,” you father flagged you down from your inner monologue of disapproval, notably stood with an old man you recognised as the town’s previous Mayor. Mr. Nelson had handed the title over to your dad when you were little, staying a consistent advisor in the governing of the town’s affairs ever since his retirement six years ago.  

You’d never liked him. There was something untoward about him, sleazy and manipulative; but that’s politicians for you.  

You knocked back the rest of your prosecco glass for a bit of liquid encouragement and walked towards them with your prettiest fake smile on.  

“Good evening, Mr. Nelson,” you said, taking his outstretched hand to shake. 

“Good evening, my dear!” He didn’t let go of your hand like you’d expected, instead tightening his grip and pulling you to lean forwards so he could press a whiskered kiss to your cheek – or what was actually closer to the corner of your lips. When he leaned back, he winked at you, still keeping hold of your hand to lift it, unashamedly scanning his eyes over your body in your dress and twirling you like a doll on a music box. “My, my... how you’ve grown, hm?” 

Your eyes locked onto your father, who was smiling at you fondly as if there wasn’t a problem. You, however, were exceedingly uncomfortable. You looked back to Mr. Nelson, smiling and acting the part. Honestly, you’d always wondered if acting would be a good career for you; you did it often enough.  

“Quite the beautiful young lady these days,” Mr. Nelson commented, letting go of your hand and coming to stand beside you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he turned to speak to your father.  

“She gets all that from her mother, of course,” he smiled proudly, squeezing the shoulders of your mother beside him, who swatted him with her own gloved hand.  

“Oh, stop it, you charmer,” she laughed. You recoiled from the interaction, uncomfortable that there was still a hand on you at all, let alone on the small of your back. 

“Your father was telling us about your college days; quite impressive, my dear!” Mr. Nelson said, his hand patting just above the curve of your behind.  

“Y-yeah... I mean, thank you, sir,” you smiled graciously. How could you get out of this?  

“Now, if only we could find her a nice man to settle down with,” your father joked, your mother smiling along with him as Mr. Nelson chuckled.  

“I’m sure that won’t be difficult, hm? Plenty of fine men about town. Any catch your eye?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised white eyebrow.  

Instantly, your mind flew to Mary. Certainly, he was not the kind of ‘fine man’ Mr. Nelson or your father would envision for you; in fact, you’re sure they would recoil in horror, but you couldn’t help but think of him. Any opportunity for your brain to remind you of how painfully you’d fucked that up, it would take.  

You took too long to answer, head full of Mary as it so often was.  

“Pumpkin, Mr. Nelson asked you a question,” he insisted with an expectant nod of his head.  

“Oh, not to worry. She clearly has somebody in mind, if the mere mention of a man has her daydreaming about him, hm?” he chortled, his hand now slipping lower to pat at the curve of your backside. Instinctively you jumped forward half a step to get away from the unwanted contact, head whipping to your father in the hope he’d seen that, that he’d step in and defend you. But of course, he didn’t.  

“Pumpkin? What’s gotten into you, hm?” His glare was disapproving, his eyebrow quirking as he waited for your answer, but an awkward silence fell on the four of you instead.  

“I, um... I’m so sorry, I think I lost my balance. These, uh, damn heels, that’s all,” you laughed nervously, averting the eyes of everyone around you.  

“Perhaps a little too much bubbly,” Mr. Nelson accused, tipping his head towards your empty flute in your hand.  

“Y-yes, maybe... Perhaps I need some air. Would you excuse me?”  

You were turning and leaving before your father could stop you, shoving the glass in your hand onto the tray of a waiter on your way to the door, ignoring the calls of “pumpkin!” behind you, sounding aggravated and embarrassed. Heads turned to watch you leave but you couldn’t look at them, overwhelmed and uncomfortable. You just had to get out.  

You headed directly for your father’s office, a small and private space to collect yourself before inevitably having to go back to the ballroom sooner rather than later, lest your father come looking for you.  

Finally alone and in a quiet spot, you slumped into your father’s chair behind his desk, spinning absentmindedly from side to side guided by your stiletto on the ground. You focussed on breathing, helping to subside the panic that had risen in you. Bad enough you’d been forced to come to this thing, let alone subjected to the wandering hands of a man who’d known you since you were barely out of diapers. This evening was the nightmare you’d expected it to be.  

Looking around your father’s office, it hadn’t changed much. The American flag stuck in his pen cup, the portrait of President George Washington on the wall, the photo frame on his desk that housed a very official looking family portrait taken when you were still in middle school. 

This was your life. This façade of pomp and circumstance, governed by sleazy men and dodgy business deals... this was all you could see for yourself. No wonder you were clinging onto Mary by your perfectly manicured fingernails, allowing him back in so easily whenever there was room in your mind. He was the antithesis of that horrendous life already mapped out for you. He was the embodiment of freedom to you, someone that lived their life governed by them and them alone.  

He liked dark things, heavy music, grungy clothes. He didn’t restrict himself, lived freely, chasing the dreams he so obviously strived for. He didn’t care what people thought of him, he lived his truth.  

You wished you could live like that. 

Lost to your musings and memories of brief encounters with Mary, you startled at the sound of the door to your father’s office slamming shut, with him stood before it. He’d come alone, his arms folded over his chest in his crisp tuxedo, and a hardened look of fury in his features.  

Your stomach dropped and you sat upright immediately; this wasn’t going to be pretty. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper and yet spat through clenched teeth. 

“Daddy, I just... Mr. Nelson, he-” 

“Don’t you ‘daddy’ me. Do you realise how embarrassing that was for your mother and I?” he scolded. You swallowed your words, thrown right back to being told off as a child. “Mr. Nelson thinks you were drunk. Are you?” 

“No, daddy, I swear!” you protested, having only drank two glasses... on an empty stomach and faster than a shot of your favourite flavour schnapps.  

“Then explain why you were so damn rude to him, hm?” he raised his voice, stepping towards you and leaning down on his own desk by his palms.  

“He put his hands on me! He’s a creep, dad!” you matched his volume, defending yourself. Your dad just scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief.  

“He’s a respected member of this community. One bad word from him, and this could all be over for us. My career, our way of life, everything! Do you understand that?” he shouted. How silly of you to think your own father might take your side when one of his creep associates lay a finger on you.  

“It was a knee-jerk reaction, he touched my ass dad, like some fucking pervert!” you yelled back, standing from his chair and finding the guts to finally answer back, to fight for what was right instead of pander to him. Mary would be proud. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady. I am your father-” 

“YES! YOU ARE! And as my father, I thought you might stand up for me, oh, I don’t know, maybe be disgusted when some old man lays a hand on your daughter’s ass!”  

Your father lifted an accusatory finger at you, wagging it in your face as if scolding a bad dog. “He was talking to you about your future. A future that he can take away with a snap of his fingers.” He demonstrated with the hand he waved wildly in front of you. “You’re lucky your mother has such a way with words...” 

“You mean she’s a good liar,” you laughed humourlessly. “Suppose you have to be in this kind of life...” His face paled, his eyes darkening and appearing to sink further into his skull as he stood up straight, his brow furrowing. 

“I have worked for over two decades to build us ‘this life’,” his voice deepened, darkening considerably as he loomed over you. “Look around you. Do you think this just happens? I have done nothing but provide for you, you ungrateful little girl.” 

“This is the problem... I’m not a little girl anymore, and you still treat me like I can’t think for myself. I’ve got my own mind, things that I want to do. Do you give a shit about that at all?” The anger inside you you’d caged up for too long was surfacing, the heat on that simmering pot turning up with every word out of your father’s mouth. Already you were too far gone to reel it back in. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to hear this. 

“I give a shit about this family!” he screamed. “I will not allow you to tear it all down in some childish tantrum!” 

“Tear what down?!” you protested, “I just want to be able to do something for myself for a change, to start my life! It’s got nothing to do with your prestige as Mayor, I just want to be able to finally crawl out from under your shadow!" 

Your father ignored you completely, still only seeing the pigtailed little girl from the portrait on his desk standing in front of him. He had no idea she’d grown up before his very eyes. He’d blinked and missed it, too damn focussed on his own career and image to notice.  

“You selfish little brat. You don’t get it, do you?” he sneered, “This is MY TOWN! MY LEGACY! You will live by MY RULES!” 

And truthfully, that was all it was ever going to boil down to. His fucking legacy.  

You sagged your shoulders in defeat, tears begging to fall out of anger. Everything you thought your dad still believed, he’d proven to you in just a few minutes; you were still a child to him, and his legacy was more important than your own happiness. Nothing you could say would win this fight. Nothing would make him see how badly he was hurting you.  

You took a deep breath, composing yourself to speak a little calmer, more collected. With emotions heightened, it was easy to yell and scream back at him, to get carried away but you were determined to show him this was not some ‘tantrum’. You meant this.  

“What if I don’t want to do that anymore?” you asked, staring him straight in the eye. The air seemed to thicken around you as you waited for it to soak in, for him to hear you, process, and respond. The silence was suffocating.  

“I’m sorry?” he asked, turning his head to present his ear as if he hadn’t heard you, but he most certainly had. He just wanted you to repeat yourself, testing you, warning you; did you have the balls to say it again? 

“What if... I don’t want to live by your rules anymore?” You spoke calmly, methodically. You will listen, you thought to yourself. 

Your father straightened up again, his head twitching as he tidied up his cuff links, straightened his bow tie and slicked back his hair before he gave you the time of day. This was just a part of his intimidation, his macho technique, reminding you he was a distinguished man, one with power. When he finally looked you in the eye again, his face was set in stone.  

“Then you can get the hell out of my office.” 

Like a punch to the gut, it knocked the wind right out of you. He wanted you to leave.  

“F-fine...” you stuttered, walking around the desk as if to head for the door, pulling your cell phone out of your clutch, “I’ll get one of your lap dogs to take me home, and we’ll talk about this in the morning,” you told him, trying to keep a modicum of dignity, prove to him you were an adult and taking the moral high ground. But your father laughed... 

“I don’t think you heard me. Perhaps you didn’t understand...” he turned around to face you, now stood by the door to his office. “This is my town, Pumpkin. This whole town is my office.” 

The weight of what he was saying fell like a barrel of hot tar over you, the scorching, searing pain radiating through you. You stared in disbelief, waiting for him to laugh, to tell you he was kidding, just pushing your buttons to see your reaction but nothing... He just stared at you, as you stared at him, like a deer in headlights. 

“Y-you’re not serious...?” you dared to whisper, shaking your head in denial. 

“Deadly. Get out,” he growled, “or do I have to call security?” 

Those angry tears turned into streams now falling down your cheeks silently while you were unable to blink, processing his command until your body moved of its own accord, reaching for the doorknob and opening it behind you.  

“I’m sure your precious town will love to hear about this,” you threatened, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He just smirked and folded his arms over his chest again.  

“Careful, Pumpkin. Daddy’s got one hell of a legal team; and they’re all eating out of his palm in that ballroom tonight.” 

He had you beat. Checkmate. Every credible lawyer – and the seedy ones – were on his damn payroll. You couldn’t win this no matter what you did. You just had to walk away...  

And so, you did. Quietly, you slipped out from the opulent town hall and found yourself stood on a street corner a couple of blocks away, out of the sight of not only your father and his invitees behind the huge windows of the ballroom, but out of sight of his cronies, already given the instruction to make sure you left quietly, and didn’t attempt to come back in. 

You were alone, as you had become so accustomed to being. 

Every riff felt wrong. For over a week now, Mary tried to write something new, something fresh that he’d never heard before, that excited him and inspired him but... nothing. He was beginning to think he’d lost his touch. He knew he couldn’t force inspiration to come, but this was a longer, drier spell than even he was used to... 

He reached for his pack of smokes on the nightstand where they usually sat, only to discover he was fresh out – that last cigarette had truly been his last.  

“Shit,” he cursed to himself, crushing the empty box in his palm and throwing it in the general direction of the trash can, hitting the rim and bouncing off to the floor beside two or three other crumpled cigarette boxes from the last few days.  

Whew, he thought to himself, smokin’ more now, too. Awesome. Still, ignoring the mess he’d neglected to tidy, he stood up from his bed with a stretch, abandoning his tattered acoustic on his bed. His leather jacket that he’d slung over the back of his couch still held his keys, wallet and cell phone from his last outing to the gas station, and so he slithered his arms into the sleeves and headed for the door.  

He knew he didn’t need to take the van to travel the four blocks to the gas station on the edge of town just for cigarettes, but there was something about a late-night drive that calmed Mary. It always felt like one of those rare moments where he got to be himself; a decent band on the stereo and some open road to clear his head.  

He also knew he didn’t need to go all the way to the gas station for smokes; the convenience store on the corner would do just fine. Except, Forrest usually worked the late-night shifts at the gas station, and he’d get to take advantage of his staff discount. 

“Hey man!” Mary called out as he walked into the store, the bell dinging above his head. Forrest looked up from the magazine he was reading, slumped over the counter. 

“Well, look what the dogs dragged in...” Forrest smirked, “where’d you fuck off to the other night?” 

Ah. He’d never explained where he’d disappeared to the night of the fair, nor had he seen any of his friends since. He hadn’t realised he’d shut himself off for that long, but seemingly, he had. 

“Oh, uh...” he stammered, thinking up an excuse.  

“Some chick got your attention, huh?” he stood upright and folded his arms, leaning against the edge of the counter. “I don’t know how you do it, man. You got ‘em lining up out the door. You shoot strawberry milkshake outta that dick, or what?” Mary relaxed instantly, his alibi already created for him.  

“Why, you wanna taste?” he mocked, shooting a flying kiss at him as he stepped up to the counter in an overly camp, seductive walk to make the other laugh. 

“I’ll stick to the slurpie machine, thanks,” he joked, pretending to gag at the thought of Mary’s strawberry milkshake. “You need somethin’, or you just here to entertain me?” 

“Outta smokes,” Mary shrugged. “I’ll grab the usual.” 

Forrest nodded, turning his back to fish through the cigarettes that lined the wall behind the counter, coming to the brand Mary would usually purchase. Mary looked to his left, seeing a special offer on party size bags of Takis and an array of candy bars. He chucked a bag up on the counter with some candy and fished inside his jacket for his wallet as Forrest rung him up.  

“Big plans tonight, huh?” 

“Oh yeah, big night in with my favourite girl, Mary Jane,” Mary waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Explains the snacks, you always did get munchies worse than any of us...” he laughed, punching his employee code into the register to add his discount; something he did without thinking these days. Mary was always grateful. “$15.75” 

“Thanks, man,” Mary handed over a twenty, shoving the change back in his wallet just as his phone started to buzz in his other pocket. He whipped it from his jacket, checking the caller ID when his chest tightened.  

You. 

Mary sneered at the phone in his hand, shoving it back into his pocket with a scowl on his face. If Forrest noticed, he didn’t question it, probably assuming it were a telemarketing scam.  

“We should get a practise in before Saturday,” Forrest suggested, “I think Davey’s free on Tuesday? And I'm off too.” Mary hadn’t forgotten; they had a show to play in the city, some new goth club were having a metal night, and word of Mary’s band was starting to spread beyond the scene they’d been playing for the last two years. 

“Uh yeah.” His phone stopped buzzing in his pocket. He ignored the feeling of disappointment in him, that gnawing voice in the back of his head that told him he should have answered it. “Yeah, I think I’m free. You wanna see if Jed’s about?”  

Forrest made a noise that sounded vaguely like an affirmative as Mary picked up the bag with his purchases inside.  

“Alright, uh...” Mary’s phone began vibrating in his pocket again, barely any respite since the last call. He ignored it, trying to claw himself back to reality instead of letting his mind drift to whatever you could possibly be calling him for. He was sure it was only one thing, anyway. “Let me know, man!” 

“Yeah, see ya!” Forrest grinned, shutting the register with a ping and picking up his discarded magazine as Mary turned and left, the bell dinging above the door again. He stood outside for a moment, fishing his phone out of his pocket and seeing that it was indeed your name that flashed on his screen.  

Once again, he ignored it, shoving it this time into the back pocket of his jeans and skulking back over to his van, parked in a bay near the door. It stopped just as he wrenched the door open with a rusty creak, throwing his bag into the passenger seat. He climbed in behind it, slamming the door shut and settling into the seat as he shoved the keys into the ignition. As he turned them and the engine roared to life with his stereo, he took a deep breath, leaning back against the head rest and desperately willing the thoughts of you to leave him be. 

He’d wasted too much time on you already, and he meant what he’d said last time. He was tired of being everybody’s dirty little secret, and he wasn’t about to answer your fucking booty call. Not again.  

Reaching into the plastic bag beside him, he pulled out his carton of cigarettes and ravaged the packaging until he could pry one from the box and shove it between his lips, pushing the lighter button in on his dashboard and waiting patiently for it to heat. Closing his eyes, he waited for the telltale click, reclining into his seat, when his phone began to buzz in his back pocket once again.  

Mary’s eyes shot open, anger coursing through his veins. Were you that desperate to get laid? It wasn’t fair. He thought he’d made it clear where he stood, that he wasn’t interested in being picked up and dropped whenever someone felt like it anymore. He had to start thinking less with his dick and more with his head – and his heart. 

But you were not getting the message – ignoring your calls wasn’t working. Maye he just needed to say it in black and fucking white.  

Muttering curses to himself, he fished his phone from his back pocket where he sat, seeing that the caller ID did indeed read “Doll” again. He turned the volume of his stereo way down, took a deep breath, and answered the call.  

“Look, I’m really not interested in being your booty call, Barbie,” he spat down the microphone, “so you might wanna just give it up now before you embarrass yourself.” 

He was met with silence. He almost wanted to laugh, picturing the look of sheer shock on your face as you sat surrounded by your pink frills and stuffed animals in that ivory tower of yours. But instead, he waited. Would you dare speak? Argue with him? He’d managed to rile himself up enough by this point that maybe a fight was exactly what he needed to expel the rage.  

The silence continued for a beat too long, and confusion set in. His brow furrowed, checking his phone screen to see if you’d hung up but no, you were still connected. He lifted the phone to his ear again, waiting... and then he heard it. 

A sob.  

A sob so small and timid, he thought maybe he wasn’t supposed to have heard it. But instantly, his face paled, and his chest hollowed. Every muscle in his shoulders that had tensed in his anger when he picked up the phone instantly turned to jelly. He’d expected resistance, maybe a “fuck you, Goore” or something to that effect. He’d expected an argument, rage, denial or defence.  

He waited again, clicking the side button on his phone to turn the volume up in case he’d missed it. Now, he heard the sniffles too, along with the shuddering breath from an inhale that sounded uncontrollable. And then another small, suppressed sob. 

He panicked, sitting bolt upright in his seat and pulling the cigarette from his lips as he looked around his surroundings as if there was something, someone who could help. Of course, there was nothing.  

He didn’t expect you to react that way... Perhaps he’d been too harsh, maybe yelling at you wasn’t the right way to go about this, to cut his ties with you before they were truly bonded, but he hadn’t even thought it through. Mary just thought severing it with a quick, clean blow would do the trick... 

“I-I... d-didn't... know who... to call,” you wept down the phone, breathing irregular as if you were suffering a panic attack. “I’m s-s... sorry.” 

Instantly, Mary knew he’d fucked up. You weren’t calling him for a hook up, this was something different. Something had happened. You had already been in this state. And you’d turned to him for help. Mary swallowed a gulp of nothing, now realising his mouth and throat had gone dry whilst his jaw had hung open in bewilderment and panic. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, frenzied. He waited for a response, only hearing more sobs; ones that you clearly were unable to hold back as you tried to speak, to tell him what had happened. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that you couldn’t say it without losing the small semblance of composure you had. You were in no fit state to talk about this on the phone. 

The hand holding the phone dropped to his lap for a moment as he muttered a “shit” to himself, slamming his head back against the headrest. He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to run right to you, to go and fucking save you with some twisted sense of duty towards you. But then, yes, of course he was; Mary’s saviour complex had kicked in the second he heard that first tiny, frail sob. 

He held the phone to his ear again. 

“Look just... fuck, just breathe alright? Slowly, if you can. I’m coming, just make sure your window’s unlocked,” he instructed you, pressing his foot down on the clutch and shoving the gear stick into reverse.  

“’m not... home...” you sobbed. Mary paused, confused.  

“Well... where are you?” he asked, now more concerned as to what the hell had happened. If someone had laid a fucking finger on you...  

“R-Raynor... street...”  

Dead centre of town; anything could have happened, anybody could have been around.  

“Alone?” he asked, incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of you being alone at this hour in the middle of town.  

“M-mhm...” Mary cursed to himself again, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he used both hands to spin the wheel of his van, quickly looking in his mirrors to reverse out of his parking spot before he could speed off into the night to come and find you. 

“I’m coming, alright? Stay there. Keep your phone close, stay on the line. You keep off the street ‘til you hear me coming, you understand?” His instructions were clear, almost military-like. He needed you to hear him plainly.  

“Oh...kay,” you sobbed, trying to quieten your sobs and regain control.  

“Keep breathing, I’m on my way.” 

Mary picked the phone from between his ear and shoulder and hit the loud-speaker button, throwing it onto his dash so he could drive easier through the streets as he headed into town. Thankfully the roads had been somewhat empty, most traffic lights turning green on the approach and no one to get in his way or flag him down for speeding at this hour. He just needed to get to you, as fast as possible. 

Turning onto Raynor street, he slowed right down and got a good look; you were nowhere to be seen. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d just followed his advice, hiding down an alleyway off the main street to keep out of sight of any passersby with bad intentions. He turned his stereo back up, a clear indication that it was him who was driving slowly down the street, watching and waiting for you to pop your head out of somewhere. 

“C’mon, doll... where are you?” he muttered anxiously to himself, looking down every nook and cranny between buildings.  

The music you heard edging closer down the street echoed what you could hear from your phone speaker, telling you that the vehicle approaching was him. A wave of relief washed over you, and you stepped out from between a hair salon and an apartment block near the end of the street. Mary's headlights caught on your dress, the sparkle catching his eye immediately and he sped up until he could break suddenly right next to you, jumping out of his van and running around it to get to you as quickly as he could. 

His hands gripped onto your biceps and he held you out at arm's reach to get a good look at you; carefully placed make up had streaked from your tears, black rings forming around your eyes where your mascara had run. Your eyes themselves were bloodshot; how long had you been out here like this before you’d called him? You shivered in his hands, the cold of the night getting to you in this dress that left your arms and shoulders exposed, doing nothing to warm you at this late hour. He didn’t even think, shucking himself out of his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders where his body heat had already warmed it.  

“Are you hurt?” he asked, cupping your face in his hands and swiping the tear tracks away with his thumbs. You shook your head no, another sob rising in your throat now that he was here. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, his initial reaction to your phone call clearly indicating he was still very much mad at you; not that you could blame him. But it didn’t escape your notice that he had come anyway, and the expression on his face was almost one of terror before his eyes had fallen on you, and softened considerably. 

Something in him cared.  

“Alright, come on... get in,” he settled a hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you gently and quickly to the passenger side of his van where he opened the door for you, helping you up. You settled into the seat, curling in on yourself and hugging Mary’s jacket closer to you for the warmth the night had stripped from you as he climbed in the driver’s side. He turned the stereo right down, the music now only to fill a silence rather than to alert you to his arrival.  

“Is there... somewhere you want me to take you?” he asked, an awkwardness coming over him. He had no idea how to react in this situation, no clue what had happened or why you’d called him of all people when you had an entire security team on your side. 

You seemed to think about it for a moment, a fresh wave of tears trickling from your eyes and dripping to your lap when you looked down in an attempt to hide your face.  

“I... don’t have anywhere...” you sobbed, your fists tightening around the edges of Mary’s jacket to have something to ground you while your shoulders shook.  

Mary watched on helplessly, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to reach over, to pull you into him and hold you so you could let out the much more violent sobs you were so obviously holding back. He was so used to the feistier side of you; your smart mouth, your confidence... It’s what drew him in, what attracted him to you like a moth to a flame. This wasn’t you. 

It stirred up a need in him to help, to sacrifice his own discomfort in favour of your comfort. Instantly, he put you first, forgetting any resignations he had about ever seeing you again. That anger he harboured at how out-of-touch he thought you were? It dissipated the second he’d heard the first sob. He’d been triggered like a sleeper cell, instantly needing to patch up whatever wound you’d suffered. 

“You don’t wanna go home?” he asked, figuring he already knew the answer. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. When you shook your head violently, he got the confirmation he needed. “Alright, well...” He was going to regret this, wasn’t he? But he’d said it before he could stop himself. “You could stop at my place for a bit.” Yep, he regretted it. “If it’s not too weird, or anything... I mean, I live alone, if you’re worried about my friends being ther-” 

“Okay...” you sniffled.  

Mary stopped rambling, instead reaching for the cigarette he’d never lit and thrown on his dash with his phone. Once again, he pushed the cigarette lighter in to heat up, adjusting the heating in the van to a warmer temperature too to warm you up. 

“Alright um, sure...” He held the cigarette between his lips, shoving the van into gear and continuing down the street. “There’s a carton of cigs in the bag by your feet, if you want one,” he offered – more to fill the silence between you than anything. The quiet stereo could only do so much. 

You sniffled and reached down to the bag, fishing through the plastic until you found the carton he’d mentioned and pulling one out for yourself hoping it might help to calm you. With a pop, the lighter signalled it was ready, and Mary held it out to you first as he focussed on the road. You lit it carefully with a small ‘thank you’ and settled back into your seat. The first drag helped settle your nerves, the heating in the van calming the shakes you’d had too, although you weren’t sure if that had been the panic or the cold of the night. 

A few streets into the journey back to his place, you couldn’t take the quiet any longer. The awkward air between you felt so stale, icy in comparison to the warmth the van generated. As much as you wanted to relax in his presence – as he up until now had always been able to make you do – you just couldn’t. Not with the elephant in the back of the van, so to speak... 

“I’m sorry... for calling,” you mumbled, still too full of shame to be able to look at him directly, only stealing a glance from the corner of your eye. Mary took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash out of the crack he’d opened in his window. He looked between you and the road, as if thinking through his response a few times.  

“You don’t have to apologise for that. I’m not one to leave a lady out in the cold...” he shrugged. He certainly wasn’t; literally or metaphorically.  

“Thank you for coming, Mary. I didn’t know where to go...” Every time you thought back to the fight with your father, fresh and hot tears would well up in your eyes. It didn’t escape Mary’s notice, and he wanted nothing more than to reach over and squeeze your hand with reassurance. Instead, he settled on trying to lighten the mood a little. Comedy always had been his defence mechanism, after all... 

“Dressed like that? I’d have said... Cinderella’s ball?” 

You scoffed, the first genuine smile he’d seen from you as you shook your head. “Shut up,” you told him.  

“You couldn’t call on the creatures of the forest to come help?” he continued, smirking when he saw your shoulders shaking in silent laughter, elbow propped up on the edge of your window. “Tinkerbell not got any pixie dust left for ya?” 

You reached over and playfully slapped his chest, earning you an ‘ouch’ and an act of feigned pain as he recoiled. But you giggled to yourself, the absurdity of it all finally hitting you. Here you were sat in your sparkly peach gown with your satin elbow gloves, high heels and fancy hairdo, cradled by Mary’s leather jacket in a beat-up van that was old enough to still have a damn cigarette lighter in the dash. Perhaps you were Cinderella... Did that make Mary your Prince Charming, or your fairy God mother? 

Now he’d heard you giggle – something he always loved hearing out of you – Mary could relax a little. There was still an awkwardness between you both, neither one of you could deny that, but the first layer of ice had been broken. For now, that would be enough. If you wanted to talk to him about what had happened when you got to his, then fine. If not, he figured that was okay too. At least he’d know you were safe and had someone by your side who cared about you; and yes, Mary could admit to himself now that he did care about you... 

Just, maybe not to you – not yet. But it wasn’t something he could exactly deny either, when he’d dropped his ‘big plans’ of getting high and demolishing a bag of snacks alone with his guitar the second he’d heard your despair. And all of that in spite of his lingering anger towards you. How quickly he’d flipped that, from wanting nothing to do with you to racing to your rescue. 

Mary’s apartment was small, as you’d expected. As you followed him inside, you looked around. The kitchen sat directly to your left cut off by a half wall to corner it in, a couch that looked like it had seen better days backed up against that half wall and pointed at an old television. Mary’s bed was unmade and pushed up against the far-right corner, facing the bathroom that took up as much space as his kitchen did but was the only room closed off. In the way of bedroom furniture, all he had was a small nightstand and a chest of drawers that had been knocked about some...  

It seemed cosy, lived in. It wasn’t particularly tidy; a blanket strewn over the tatty couch, vinyls laying on top of his little coffee table and around his record player in the corner of his living space, guitars laying up against the wall here and there, an acoustic on his bed, pots and pans stacked up on the draining board in his kitchen – clean, but not yet put away.  

Had Mary known he was having royalty stop by, he might have tidied up a little, but this was how it looked most of the time. He didn’t spend much time at home, especially now that his band were starting to take off a little. But truthfully, he avoided being alone at all costs. He got too much thinking done alone, hence why he had his distraction methods of weed and song-writing.  

Mary scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and went to flick on a lamp by the couch. He quickly whipped around the space, picking up the strewn vinyls, straightening up the blankets. “Sorry about the mess,” he set as he jetted past you towards his bed to pick up his guitar and straighten out the blankets and pillows. You stood awkwardly in the entryway, his jacket still hanging off your shoulders as you picked at your gloves.  

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that bad,” you told him, noting the few personal belongings Mary had too; most notably the little picture frame on a windowsill by the couch. A strikingly beautiful woman, and a goofy little boy snuggled tightly in her lap. Both were grinning into the camera, the boy’s front teeth missing. You guessed that was Mary, and the woman, his mother.  

“Can I get you anything? I don’t know, a drink maybe? Or, uh...” He stood awkwardly, nervously wringing his hands and fiddling with his rings. It was so out of character for him, usually cocky and confident in everything he said or did. In a way, it was quite endearing...  

“Maybe some water, if you don’t mind...” You winced at your own request, feeling like you’d already asked for too much tonight.  

“Yeah... yeah, sure!” He jumped into action, rushing into the kitchen to fetch a clean glass from the cabinet. “Make yourself at home,” he told you, nodding towards the couch he’d just tidied. You walked towards it, draping his jacket over the arm and sitting on the edge of it, playing with your gloves until he came and sat opposite you, handing you a cold glass of water. 

You took it with a thank you, downing a third of the glass once the water hit your tongue – you hadn’t realised just how thirsty the tears and panic had made you.  

“So, um... you wanna tell me why you’re dressed like that?” Mary nodded at your dress, getting himself comfortable and ready to listen. You looked down at yourself, feeling utterly ridiculous now. This was your world... glitter, glam, sparkles; and you despised it.  

“Fancy dinner at the town hall – pompous twats and vile politicians. Mom picked this out,” you scoffed. 

“Huh,” he mused, “I mean, if it helps, you do look pretty...” he shrugged. A warmth rose to your cheeks at his compliment. “The mascara smudges are a nice touch, I think.” You laughed at that, wiping your fingertips along the underneath of your eyes and seeing the black collecting on the white satin. “So... what happened?” 

He asked you so gently, and instantly you felt safe. His gaze wasn’t judgemental, just soft. In fact, it had taken you this long to mentally note that Mary wasn’t made up with his usual faded skull paint and fake blood. His face was clean, you could see every detail. You could see every emotive line, every twitch of his expressions and a vulnerability in him that the face paint usually masked. He had a kinder face than people gave him credit for. Suddenly, you got it. He was putting on a mask every day, just like you.  

And so, you told him. You told him how you’d felt in that ballroom, looking around and seeing the real scumbags of this town. You told him about Mr. Nelson; what he’d said, what he’d done. Mary’s face hardened at that, an anger and protectiveness washing over him that had his fists balling up tightly. You told him how you’d excused yourself, and how your father had followed you to his office. Throughout, he stayed quiet, letting you speak and listening to everything you said. He’d react every so often, fetched you some tissues when the tears had started again. You told him everything, including how your father had screamed at you to follow his rules to not damage his “legacy”.  

“And I told him I didn’t want to do that anymore... I wanted to do my own thing and live for me.”  

Mary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  

“Shit... What did he say?” he asked, obviously knowing it hadn’t ended well.  

“Told me to get out of his office,” the tears came again, your voice raising in pitch as you tried to hold back the sobs, “that this whole town was his office. Threatened me with lawyers if I tried anything. So... I just left.” 

“He kicked you out into the street, alone, dressed like that, in the middle of the fucking night?” Mary’s anger was clear, spitting venom between clenched teeth. He couldn’t understand the nerve of your father, how he could be so damn stupid putting you in danger like that. “Fucking arrogant asshole...” 

It was clearer to him more now than ever that he’d been so wrong about you...  

He shuffled closer to you on the couch, cautiously wrapping an arm around your shoulders to comfort you in some way. Truthfully, he wanted to completely envelope you, to hold you and rock you and let you cry and sob and scream if you needed it. But it wasn’t until you lay your head on his shoulder that he felt okay to do so, finally pulling you into him to wrap his arms around you and let you cry into his chest.  

He felt so warm beneath you, his heart rate a little elevated but the thumping kept you grounded as you held onto his shirt, curling into a sparkly little ball in his side. Mary cradled your head to him, stroking your hair and whispering to you about letting go, that you were safe here. 

If he was being honest with himself, he knew how shitty he’d been to you. He’d become far too defensive too quickly, unable to see past his own injustices in his world to understand that your world came with them too. There had been signs of your confinement, of the tight leash you were kept on, but he’d wilfully ignored them, striking them off as privilege. Your bedroom alone should have been a giant red flag; how was a grown woman still sleeping in a child’s bedroom?  

“I’m sorry, doll...” he told you, muttering into your hair as his lips gently pressed to the top of your head.  

“Not on you, Mare. This has been coming for a while...” you sniffled, wiping your tears with your gloves as you snuggled into him a little further, utterly comfortable in his hold. 

“No, I mean...” Mary sighed to himself, “I’ve been an asshole. I got too defensive, thought you were just being a brat or something, y’know? I judged you and I shouldn’t have.” 

Slowly, you sat upright, turning to look at him as his arms fell to his sides.  

“You don’t have to apologise, I get it... I wasn’t exactly good to you either,” you admitted, looking down at his shirt now stained with tears to avoid his eyes. “You were right, I was treating you like I was ashamed of you.” 

Mary sat up straight, clasping his hands together as he nodded in understanding. “We’ve all got our shit, doll.” His eyes drifted to the picture on his windowsill, and you couldn’t help but follow his gaze. You saw how he clenched his jaw, fiddling with the rings on his fingers as sadness crept into his eyes. 

“Who was she?” The question slipped out before you got the chance to stop yourself. From the way Mary tensed up beside you, you could tell it was a sore spot.  

“That’s my mom,” he looked back to you, a sad smile on his face.  

“Is she...?” 

“Dead? No...” he laughed awkwardly. “But she is in a care facility. That’s just the only photo of us I’ve got.”  

You nodded in understanding, not wanting to push the matter. But Mary felt like sharing... You’d been vulnerable with him, shared your shit. Maybe he should share his too, or at least some of it. Maybe you were the only person he could be honest with. You were certainly the only person he’d wanted to get to know him in a long time.  

“She was a drinker. It got worse when my dad left, but he was a waste of fucking space anyway. We, uh, didn’t have a lot...” his eyes flickered to the battered old guitar that now leaned against the wall by his bed, “but eventually her liver kind of gave up, so she’s on dialysis for the rest of her life. She needs constant care, but she’s still with us.” 

“I’m so sorry... no wonder you thought I was just being a brat,” you laughed awkwardly, feeling a little pathetic now. 

“Like I said, we all got our shit. It's not a contest, I just... realised I wanted you to know something real about me.” 

Silence descended over you along with the weight of what he’d just admitted. Mary wanted you to know him. He wasn’t running or hiding himself from you. He’d shared something so personal to him, and you felt that it was something not a lot of people might know about him, if any. Something about you made him feel just as safe as a part of him did for you.  

You looked at him; really looked at him. There was a sadness in his eyes, something you could notice now that you were sat merely inches apart from him with his mask firmly ripped away and laying in pieces on the floor. Whatever wall he usually put up, he’d let down just for you. You felt close to him, unbelievably so. You felt an urge to protect him, defend him. You felt a pull towards him, undistinguished in its meaning but so strong you couldn’t ignore it anymore.  

And as Mary stared back at you, his wounds exposed, he too felt that same pull. Who was he kidding? He’d felt it for a while. How else would he explain being unable to go barely minutes without thinking of you over the last few weeks?  

His eyes flicked down to your lips, heart racing and mind spinning out of control. He’d never felt so exposed. He wanted to kiss you, to show you what he felt in that moment, but it scared him. He already had shared so much, feeling just as vulnerable as he had as a child.  

In your corner, the silence got heavier with every second that passed. If he was going to kiss you, you would let him. You couldn't think of a better way to show him just how much you cared, how close you felt to him; that you truly wanted him.  

Just as you thought he might lean in, he snapped out of his trance, sucking in a breath between his teeth.  

“Well, hey... you can stop here tonight. I can find you something to wear, I’m pretty sure I got something in the back,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows, “I can take you from riches to rags!”  

He slapped his thighs and stood up from the couch, marching over to the dresser by his bed and rifling through his drawers. You stayed put, thrown off by his sudden escape. From such an emotional, tender moment to him throwing that wall back up, closing up shop... You almost got whiplash from the speed at which he put the brakes on. Disappointment lay heavy in your chest.  

He came back over with a folded t-shirt and some plaid pyjama pants you could tie up to keep them on. “There’s clean cloths in the bathroom under the sink if you wanna wash up, towels if you wanna shower,” he handed you the clothes where you sat. “I’ll take the couch, you got the bed and we’ll figure out a plan in the morning.”  

“O-okay...” you stammered, standing up with the folded clothes. Frankly, you felt a little dazed from his shift in demeanour, but you could hardly blame him either. Sharing that had to have been harder than you first thought. 

You walked past him into the bathroom, locking the door and pulling on the string light to awaken the fluorescent bulb above you. Now catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirrored medicine cabinet, you saw the state of yourself. Make up smeared all over your face, streaks of black running from your eyes to halfway down your neck. They looked bloodshot and tired, staring lifelessly back at you. Your hair had fallen out of place from its fancy updo, and you looked as if you’d been dragged through a cornfield by your ankles. 

Deciding against a shower, you settled for wiping the make-up from your face and taking your hair down, attempting to detangle it with the comb you found in the medicine cabinet. You’d found a bottle of cologne in there too, which when you sniffed, smelled exactly like Mary had smelled the night he’d climbed through your bedroom window. You smiled fondly at the memory, noting how the bottle was largely untouched, still having the price tag on it which only confirmed that he’d bought it and worn it just for you. 

By the time you were done and changed into the clothes Mary had found you, Mary had made himself a makeshift bed from the blanket he’d previously folded on the couch and one of the pillows from his bed. He was already laying under it, having changed into some old shorts and removed his shirt.  

“You can put your dress on the dresser, and I can run out and grab you something to wear tomorrow so you’ve got something other than this to wear,” he called from the couch, sitting up so he could speak directly to you.  

“Thank you. I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow, I’m sure my dad just needs to calm down...” you told him. Mary couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but also, protective. He wasn’t about to send you home to that, and he didn’t want you to feel like a burden on him either.  

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna do...” he muttered, his lips straightening into a line as he nodded. “Well... get some rest.” 

“Yeah, I will... thank you, Mary,” you told him. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiled, laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket over his bare shoulders. Without another word, you placed your clothes on the dresser and crawled into his bed, notably cold without him in it. Mary flicked off the lamp by the couch, plunging the apartment into mostly darkness save for the moonlight and the nearest streetlamp shining through his window. 

The same window where the picture of him and his mother sat.  

He could see it where he lay. In fact, he couldn’t look away. That smile on both of their faces reminded him of a time that was so rare. He could still hear her laughter mixing with his giggles as she’d hugged and tickled him, his grandmother who was long since gone snapping the picture on a whim.  

That little boy didn’t have many memories like that to come. He’d grown up far too soon, knowing how desperately his mother needed the help. His childhood was the two of them stuck out at sea, a hole in their boat – and Mary was the only one fishing the water out with a bucket. Eventually, it was bound to go under, so he worked harder, did everything he could to keep them afloat and yet... it wasn’t enough.  

The world had got him all wrong. When they thought he was bunking off school, he was working for a dollar an hour. When he’d been caught shoplifting, it was for a gift for his mother’s birthday. When he’d dropped out of school, it was to work every hour God sent to keep them from going hungry. When he finally did go off the rails in his late teens, it was after his mother’s liver failed. This poor, grown-up little boy had no one to look after anymore, and he’d spiralled. He was his only responsibility, but he’d never learned to care for himself – just the people around him. He always had to save them.  

Mary wiped the stray tear from his cheek, rolling over to face the back of the couch and will himself to sleep. He couldn’t tell if it was an hour or mere minutes that passed as he lay there, huddled under his old blanket on a couch that poked at his ribs under the cushions.  

“Mary...?” you whispered into the night, testing and hoping that he’d still been awake enough to hear. When he looked up, he saw you sat up in his bed, surrounded by emptiness, hugging your knees to your chest. In the dim streetlight, tear tracks sparkled on your face just like your dress.  

Before he knew what he was doing, his feet had carried him across the room. Tentatively, he sat at the edge of his bed, close enough that he could reach out and tuck your fallen hair behind your ear. Neither of you spoke; there was no need. It was obvious you needed the proximity, both vulnerable and in need of comfort.  

Mary’s eyes flicked between yours and your lips again, hesitating as his mind raced with conflicting arguments for and against giving in. He still wasn’t sure you truly wanted him. Maybe all you wanted in him was a friend, the sex having been a distraction or way to rebel. All Mary knew for sure was that you’d trusted him enough to be the one you called when you were in trouble. He didn’t want to break that trust now...  

But it was like you could see the cogs turning in his brain, the inner argument going on inside him. The battle wouldn’t be won by him alone; you were going to have to prove to him that you wanted him, that he wasn’t just your dirty little secret or some booty call. 

Slowly, you shuffled yourself closer to him, unwrapping your arms from around yourself and instead, pushing his floppy hair from in front of his face, getting a good look at him. That gorgeous face of his sat bathed in the dim light, caught between distant sadness and childlike wonder. With one last flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes, he caught you smiling softly at him, your fingertips dancing across his jawline.  

And then finally, you leaned into him and pressed your lips gently to his. His eyes fluttered shut just as yours did, and he relaxed under your touch as if his limbs had melted. Mary, now feeling marginally more confident in where he stood, tilted his head to better sculpt his lips against yours. He was so gentle with you, his hands lifting to hold yours against his cheeks by the wrists. As the seconds passed, your lips moved together in tandem, both of you leaning into each other until he was able to wrap a hand around your waist and hold you against him, cradling each other in such a tender moment.  

This was undeniably different to any other kiss you’d shared. There was no move to advance, no desperation, no frantic arousal or rushed passion. This time, you simply held each other, seeking comfort in the affection you had for each other.  

As you parted, you rested your forehead against his, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he held you still so close to him, not yet willing to let go.  

“Stay with me tonight...?” you requested, hoping he’d have no problem with the idea. Mary just nodded dumbly, overcome with a warm desire to never let you sleep alone again. You reached around you, pulling the blankets off of your lap to welcome him into them. He climbed in beside you, resting his head on the pillows as you, without a second thought, curled into his chest and let his arms envelope you. Neither one of you wanted to be alone tonight after sharing pieces of your soul with one another.  

Exhausted from the outpouring of emotion, you were soon lulled into a deep sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat and natural warmth. Mary, although exhausted himself, was still barely awake when he felt your body go limp against him. He smiled to himself, satisfied in the knowledge that he’d given up a part of himself he was sure he’d never trust anybody with.  

And yet, the wound was still open; spinning with memories, his mind lingered on one in particular, triggered when his tired eyes had fallen on that battered and beat up old guitar against the wall. That thing served as a reminder that Mary had only ever had Mary looking out for him, and that given a choice between himself and somebody else, he would always save anybody but himself... 

Mary waited patiently on the couch, his attention span null and void as the after-school cartoons blared on the TV set in front of him. He sat on the edge of his seat, quite literally, his feet kicking back and forth as he watched the clock. 

With the big hand on the 2, and the little hand on the 6, she’d be home any minute now. So, Mary waited as patiently as he could. 

Except, it wasn’t until the big hand had done a full circle, and the little hand was on the 7, that he heard the keys fumbling in the lock of the front door, followed by a telltale creak, and the slam of it behind footsteps.  

Mary jumped up, already on edge and over-excited. He ran into the hallway, to find his mother leaning against the wall with her eyes shut, head back against the plaster. She looked sick, her skin paled more than usual and her lips tainted with a familiar red stain.  

“Ma?” he asked, placing his little hand on her arm. Her eyes shot open, and she looked down at Mary next to her.  

“There’s my boy!” she slurred, leaning down to smother a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He wiped his cheek in childlike disgust, giggling to himself. “Happy birthday, baby!”  

She stood as upright as she could manage, bringing her purse with her while she stumbled into the living room, into the armchair Mary’s dad used to occupy that faced the TV set. Mary followed, bouncing on his feet with excitement. He’d waited all day for his mom to come home, hadn’t been able to focus in school for even a second. He stood and waited in front of her as she settled into the chair, dropping her purse in her lap.  

“Would you like your present baby?” she asked, smiling through hooded eyes that could barely focus. Mary nodded frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.  

It had been weeks since he’d spoken to his mother about the guitar he so desperately wanted. He’d spent most of his weekends at Mr. Rogers’ workshop, sweeping up wood shavings and running errands for a little bit of pocket money to help his mother save for this exact moment. He couldn’t wait any longer... 

His mother giggled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small, square-shaped gift wrapped in balloon wrapping paper.  

For a moment, Mary was confused... But this had to be just a decoy. He remembered seeing these CDs in the music store; ‘Guitar Basics for Beginners’, audio instructive lessons that would be far cheaper than real in-person lessons.  

He tore into the paper, throwing the trash to the side and flipped the CD around to look at the front. It was an album; State of Euphoria by Anthrax. Mary’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, surprised to find it wasn’t what he’d thought.  

“That’s the band you like, right? Or... One of them,” his mother hiccupped, leaning on her elbows with a grin. 

“Y-yeah... thanks, ma.” His tone was unmistakably disappointed.  

“What’s wrong?” she asked, swiping her thumb across his cheek and pinching it lightly. Mary chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say anything. He wasn’t one to be ungrateful, this was still a pretty great gift. Anthrax were one of the bands he had found he really loved recently. 

“No it’s great, ma, really. Thank you... It’s just,” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “could I get my guitar now? I read this book that teaches you about the frets and the notes of the strings, and stuff!” His words were rushed in that way over-excited children speed up the longer their sentence becomes. 

If his mother’s skin could pale any more, it did then.  

“Well, I... I couldn’t get the guitar, baby,” she told him, trying to let him down gently.  

“But... I helped Mr. Rogers? I thought we had enough?” he asked, his cheeks heating as if he were about to cry, but he didn’t want to make his mother feel bad by letting them spill.  

“I-I’m sorry, Mary... I needed to use that money...” she shrank back within herself, shame and guilt weighing on her shoulders.  

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused, his tears building in his eyes. He was devastated... He worked so hard to get the guitar, to prove his mind was made up and he wouldn’t give up on learning it. But his mother just stared at him, her lip trembling as she saw her little boy so heartbroken. 

She knew exactly what she had spent it on; the very thing she promised she’d try and give up. 

“I... I’m s-sorry, b-baby,” she sobbed, tears spilling down her pale cheeks and her chest tightening around her breaths. She broke down, sobbing into her hands and hiding her face from the son she’d just disappointed so tragically. 

Mary wanted to be angry. It wasn’t fair... It was him who worked for that money, him who had tried so hard to help her. She was supposed to be the one adult he could count on, they were a team, weren’t they? He never asked for anything, ever. But just once, he wanted this. But she’d put her wine and God only knows what other alcohol before him again.  

He wanted to be angry. He tried to be. But his mother was hurting, she was crying, sobbing in front of him. She needed help. She was broken. She hadn’t meant to do this... right?  

Of course not. Her alcoholism had just gotten out of control, and unfortunately, addiction is a lonely and selfish ailment. Sober, her mind wouldn’t even think of doing something so selfish. But these days, she was rarely sober.  

Mary looked at his mother, crumpled up and sickly looking, weeping into her palms, and he just wanted to save her. He always wanted to save her.  

“Ma, it’s okay...” he told her, trying too hard for an 11-year-old not to cry. “Ma, don’t cry... I can keep working for one, it’s okay. I like the CD, I really do.” he squished himself between her and the arm of the chair, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling into her. She was inconsolable, sobbing so loudly she drowned out the cartoons on the TV set. She’d lost control of herself, and Mary was the only one around to pick up the pieces.  

“Shh, ma, it’s okay. It’ll be okay!” he told her, squeezing her as tightly as he could. “I’m here, don’t cry.” 

She’d screwed up big time, and whether Mary had chosen to forgive her or not, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for this. If she wasn’t already buried up to the neck in a pit of self-loathing, this was the last shovel full of cement to trap her in. 

But Mary had already decided that he’d do what he could to dig her out. She was his mother, she did everything for him that she could... why wouldn’t he help her too? 

A guitar could wait a little while longer. For now, his mother needed him – and he’d work as hard as he needed to save her.  

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

Masterlist | Tip Jar

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If you want to be added/removed from my tag list, please let me know!

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[bigtittiecomitte]

Stuff from Episode 7 bc i rewatched it too much

First of all. The new Glitch intro looks freaking awesome, I noticed that they left out V this time so sorry V fans, you won’t even get to see her in the intro lmao

Something I’ve been thinking is Dr Chambers. Even though it was just a random guy that accidentally was in Dr Chambers suit, where was the real Dr Chambers? And why was he so important? Was he friends with James? Idk

YEVA SCENES!! I know @dreamii-krybaby was freaking out about that. The moment where she was trying to help Nori was really cute too, I wish we got too see more of her

Tessa manipulating N GRRRRAAAAAAAA LEAVE HIM ALONE 👹

Thad and Lizzy comeback as well. They lied when they said Thad is just playing basketball cause now he’s caught up in this mess too 😭 and is it just me but Lizzy’s voice sounds different, did they recast her bc I don’t remember her voice sounding like that

Nori being alive and acting just like Uzi too, like mother like daughter. Was a bit sad that her voice wasn’t Elsie’s normal british voice but her voice actor did a great job nonetheless

TESSA BEING EVIL, WE ALL CALLED IT GRRRRRRRRRR WHEN I CATCH YOU ABSOLUTE SOLVERRRRRRR

J finally having a role. She didn’t do that much but in Episode 8 no doubt her time will finally shine

THAT SCENE WHERE N BEHEADS TESSA?!? MARRRYYYY MMMEEE

Khan also having a moment, the freaking Nightcore references got me so bad cause damnit stop calling me out. And they brought Uzi’s railgun, it’s so nice seeing them acknowledge that Uzi has some sweet as engineering skills

THE FIGHT SCENE??? I’M IN LOVE WITH THE ANIMATION SO MUCH

AND WE FINALLY GOT A NUZI CONFIRMATION!! I think N just assumed that him and Uzi are dating after the hand holding scene which I find adorable. Him also telling Nori about it was super silly, he was writing it like it was those “will you go to prom with me” signs

Them screaming and hugging before they eventually split will always hurt me AND HIM PATTING HER HAIR TOO?! He’s so in love with his wife u guys he missed his wife

AND THAT ENDING. GLITCH STOP LEAVING US ON CLIFFHANGERS 😭

Knowing that Episode 8 won’t come out the next next month will hurt and even more waiting but I hope we are well fed and are patient enough to wait a bit more

Moral of the story: What was even going on in this episode I’m still screaming

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Five

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters:Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2364

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie @munsonmoonshine86

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

BIG WARNINGS ON THIS ONE for abusive parents, physical violence, choking, medical stuff, torture. To avoid spoilers, there are more details in notes at the bottom of the post if you want to know more before reading.

---

~ TWO MONTHS EARLIER ~

When you awoke the next morning, it was to the smell of breakfast cooking. Confused, you checked the clock. Steve was supposed to be at work. Had he taken the day off?

You pulled on a dressing gown and made your way downstairs. To your surprise, your father was sitting at the dining table, his newspaper open, but as you entered, he set it down.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, smiling at you. You just blinked at him. “Your mother is making breakfast. Why don’t you sit down?”

Slowly, you sat down at the table. It was laid for three, with a jug of orange juice in the middle. A moment later, your mom appeared with a large stack of blueberry pancakes.

“Good, you’re up,” she said, setting the pancakes on the table. She put a couple of them on your plate, and then poured some juice into your glass.

Your heart was pounding. The last time your mother had cooked you breakfast had been your twelfth birthday. You had a bad feeling about this. But then she smiled at you, and your heart clenched. For a brief moment, you remembered what it was to be a little girl who just wanted her mommy.

Did you dare hope that this wasn’t some ploy? Could it be that now you were having a baby, your parents were trying to mend bridges?

“Thanks, mom,” you said.

“I booked you an appointment at the clinic today,” said your father, taking his own stack of pancakes.

You frowned. “What clinic?”

“A women’s health clinic, obviously.”

Your gut twisted. “I don’t want to- I’m not going to-”

Your father raised a hand. “Relax. It’s just a routine check-up. I want to make sure my baby girl is getting the best care there is.”

You hadn’t been his baby girl in a very long time. “I already have a doctor.”

“Well, regardless, I’ve asked around and this guy is definitely the best. We’re sparing no expense here. Understood?”

“… Yes, dad.”

After breakfast, you showered and dressed – a habit you were still struggling to create – and then got into the car with your parents.

They were both quiet for most of the drive, which suited you just fine. The clinic was twenty minutes from your home, in another of Hawkins’ deeply suburban neighbourhoods.

The waiting room was empty. As the nurse called your name for your appointment, both of your parents stood up too.

“Oh, I think I can handle this part by myself,” you said. “Thanks, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said your father in a tone that brooked no argument. “We’re coming in with you.” It was evident you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

In the consulting room, the doctor welcomed the three of you in.

“Your father has already informed me all about your case,” he reassured you. You were not reassured.

You glanced at the examination bed in the middle of the room. It had stirrups attached. You felt a sinking in your stomach.

“Take these,” said the doctor, handing you a small cup full of pills.

“What are they?”

“Painkillers. They’ll make the procedure much easier for you.”

“Procedure?” Your hands were trembling now.

“The termination,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“I don’t- I’m not-”

Your father shifted over to sit down beside you and gripped your arm tight enough to hurt. “There, there, sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’ll all be over soon, and you won’t have to worry about this little problem anymore.”

“You’re hurting me.” You could barely breathe. You tried to pull your arm out of his grip but he held fast.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You tipped the little cup of pills into your mouth. Your dad’s grip loosened.

“Alright, now please remove your clothes and put on this gown,” said the doctor, laying a hospital gown on the edge of the examination bed. “And then get up on the bed, with your feet in the stirrups.”

“Can I please use the restroom first?” you asked, trying not to garble the words around the mouthful of painkillers.

“Of course. It’s down the hall, on the right.”

“I’ll come with you, dear,” said your mom, but you were already out the door.

“Sorry, emergency,” you said. “Gotta poop real bad.” That stopped her in her tracks. As casually as you could, you walked back towards the reception area, straight past the restrooms. The receptionist didn’t even look up as you walked back out into the parking lot.

Well.

Now what?

Your dad’s car was still parked in its spot, but there’s no way he wouldn’t have taken his keys with him. If Eddie was here, he could’ve shown you how to hotwire it.

Eddie.

Your heartstrings tugged at you, reminding you of the reason you were here. This baby was yours and Eddie’s, and there wasn’t a force in this world that could take it away from you. You turned and spat out the painkillers into a plant pot next to the clinic door.

You knew that you didn’t have long. Any moment, your parents would be bursting through that door to drag you back into the clinic, and who knows what would happen then?

With the amount of money your father had at his disposal, you couldn’t be sure that the staff of the clinic wouldn’t turn a blind eye to the situation, and perform the procedure without your consent. The thought was enough to get you moving.

You started to run. There was a strip mall about a mile from here, and they would surely have a payphone you could use.

As soon as you were around the corner, away from the clinic, you slowed to a fast walk. Your side was already burning, although you’d only run fifty yards or so. The extra weight of your pregnancy was taking its toll on you.

At any moment, you were sure that you would hear your parents’ voices chasing you, or perhaps their car coming up on you from behind. You weaved through the side streets, desperate to make sure they weren’t tailing you. Thankfully, that moment never came.

You made it to the strip mall in twenty minutes, panting and exhausted. If you’d had any breath left, you would’ve sighed in relief when you saw the phone booth.

It was only once you’d made it inside that you realised how badly you were shaking. You had no money on you, so you punched in the numbers to make a collect call.

“Hello, Family Video?” To your great relief, it was Steve who answered the phone. He sounded confused, no doubt because of the collect call. You hoped he didn’t get in trouble for accepting the charges.

“Steve,” you said, and then burst into tears. He said your name, sounding confused and worried. In between sobs, you explained to him what had happened.

“Where are you? I’ll come and pick you up.” You gave him your location. “I’ll be right there, I promise. Ten minutes, tops. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He made it to you in seven minutes. You had never been so glad to see anyone in your life as when his car pulled up beside the bench you were sitting on.

You pushed down on the bench to get up, and managed to stand just as Steve reached you, wrapping you up in a tight hug. His face was still bruised from your dad’s fist. Anger flared in you again, but quickly burned away into despair.

“Steve-” You tried to speak, but it just came out as a choked up sob. He clung to you, encircling you with his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should never have left you alone with them.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, setting his hands on your shoulders. “I want to promise you something. You’re not gonna have to raise your baby in that house, under our parents’ thumbs, okay? I’m gonna ask for a raise. I’ll get a second job if I have to. And we’ll get an apartment, just you and me. And we won’t have to answer to anyone.”

You let out another sob and wrapped your arms around him.

~ PRESENT DAY ~

A switchboard had been set up in Hopper’s cabin. It was somewhere that was far from the action, to keep it safe, and any population centres, to avoid civilian casualties. The doors and windows were all boarded up, and there was a decent supply of weapons here, in the event that Vecna did find you.

Hopper knew, as you all did, that left to their own devices, the kids would get themselves in trouble. They hated being left out of the action. That was why you and Eddie were staying with them. You were letting them man the switchboard so that you could all keep in contact, and so that they would feel useful.

Dustin was a whizz with electronics anyway. This was the best place for him.

The only child not under your care right now was Eleven, because she was needed elsewhere. She was your one chance at taking down Vecna, but she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Hopper had brought in the police force to assist in this foray into Vecna’s realm. Steve was out there too, with Robin, and Nancy, and Jonathan, and every other person who had been caught up in the web of the Upside Down. Hop had promised you that he would keep your brother safe.

Your pregnancy was a good reason to keep you out of harm’s way. No one had said it, but Eddie was pretty sure that he was being kept here, away from the fighting, because Hopper didn’t fully trust him yet. He supposed that he couldn’t blame him.

Everyone else was part of a complex plan to draw Vecna out, distract him, or destroy him. Eddie hadn’t been paying all that much attention. He knew his part. You and he would guard the switchboard, protect the kids, and stay safe.

Your arm curled around your stomach as Dustin sat at the switchboard, relaying instructions between the teams. Eddie wondered if you would let him touch you right now. He really wanted to put his arms around you and assure you that everyone was going to be okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

Of course, you’d see right through him. You always did.

Your posture was uninviting. You were tilted away from him, your arms resting on your knees, staring off into space. Eddie raised a hand, tentatively reaching out for you, and then withdrew it suddenly.

The thought of your rejection was too painful. He’d rather delude himself that you’d welcome his touch and never have that belief challenged.

So he went and sat down by Max and Lucas instead. Lucas eyed him with annoyance. Max turned to face him, unseeing. He realised, belatedly, that she had no way of knowing it was him.

“Hey Max,” he said, watching as the recognition flickered across her face. “Sinclair.” Lucas nodded at him.

“Why aren’t you talking to your girlfriend?” asked Lucas, sounding pissed off. Eddie had interrupted his conversation with Max. The shine of being newly returned from the dead had clearly already faded.

“Don’t be a dick,” Max snapped. “He can come talk to us if he wants.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, by the way,” Eddie interjected.

Lucas snorted. “You got her pregnant.”

“You don’t have to be boyfriend-girlfriend for that.”

“Gross.”

“And does everyone know that the baby is mine? Did she tell you all?”

“Well, whose else would it be?” asked Max, as if it was a given that you hadn’t slept with anyone else.

Eddie thought about that for a moment. He knew you didn’t date much, and you’d slept with a couple of people before him, but there was no one else in your life that seemed to be a likely candidate.

“We all figured something like this would happen eventually,” said Lucas, shrugging. “You two used to be around each other, like, all the time.”

“And you were always making gooey eyes at each other,” came Erica’s voice from over his shoulder. He jumped, almost knocking into her. “Watch it!”

“I- We do not make gooey eyes.”

“Sure, you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at him. He was about to respond when activity by the switchboard distracted him.

He tuned in just in time to hear Steve say, “We’ve crossed the gate, but this whole place seems… empty?” His voice crackled through the speakers.

“We’re at the Creel house,” came Joyce’s reply. “And it’s empty too. No vines. No dogs. No bats.”

Eddie took a step towards the switchboard and stumbled. There was something wrong. A sudden pain shot through his eyeballs. He doubled over, clutching his head.

“Eds?” You rushed to his side, but he was already gone.

As the pain ripped through him, it all came back.

Vines sewing up his broken body. Agony as he was contorted this way and that. Vecna’s voice always in his ear.

He had been in the Upside Down for months. He had been Vecna’s personal project. Vecna tore him apart and put him back together more times than he could count. That was how he’d survived. Vecna had healed his body so that he could torture it some more.

No, it can’t have been just that. There must’ve been another reason. He tried to think, but the pain was blinding. Someone was clawing at his arms. His muscles were tensed.

“You’re going to be my little puppet, aren’t you, Edward?” Vecna’s voice was cold and low in his ear, so close that it was almost real, and Eddie snapped back into himself.

Multiple pairs of hands were grabbing at his arms, trying to pull him away or incapacitate him. He blinked, refocusing on what was happening in the room. You were laying beneath him, your eyes watering, bruises on your neck in the shape of his hands.

---

Notes:

Warnings for parents attempting to coerce/force reader into getting an abortion, mind control, domestic abuse-adjacent stuff (although Eddie isn't in control of his actions)

Next Chapter

[elocinnicole]

Much Needed Break

Much Needed Break

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: 18+ SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, foreplay)

Requested: No

Summary: Starting to feel burnt out and Reader gets a surprise from Daveed.

Note: I’ve been writing like crazy y’all. These past few fics have been WIP’s that have been collecting dust on my laptop. I took a sick day earlier this week and have been finishing up these WIPs I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3K

Whoever said being a Mom is a beautiful experience, fucking lied. Never in your life have you wanted to be more alone than this moment right now. Daniel had a meltdown in the middle of the store because they were sold out his favorite cereal and refused to pick a different one. Ari has been going through diapers like tic-tacs. The last pregnancy you couldn’t produce enough milk, now it seems like you had to pump every hour or you’ll start leaking through your clothes. You were still healing from your C-Section with Ari which made dealing with everything that much more painful. The plan was to have a home birth but Ari was breech which made you have the C-Section and pushed back you filming the newest season of Bridgerton.

“Maybe you need a break.” Jasmine suggested

“I mean Daveed’s movie premiere is tomorrow. We got a hotel for the night.”

“No, that is not a break. You need a getaway with your husband.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have the time and I feel like even if we do go on a trip, I’m gonna be too tired to do anything.” You’re finding it harder and harder to get up each morning, since Daveed is in the middle of filming his days were early and long. Meaning he wasn’t there to help you in the morning with the kids. You really didn’t want to hire anybody but maybe you need to, at least until you’ve finished filming.

“My Fenty came in today so I thought I could put it on and see what happens.”

“See what happens? Girl I ain’t know it was this bad. You need to get that back broke like a glow stick.”

“When do we have the time Jazz? Between the Bluey marathon or Gracie’s Corner?”

“That’s a start but I still think the two of you need a break. Mainly you.”

“We’re getting a hotel tomorrow.” You reasoned

“Girl, a break from the kids, LA, your house.”

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll talk to Daveed about it.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright girl, bye.”

You heard a car door shut, and eagerly ran downstairs to get ready. You’ve been missing, Daveed…a lot. Not only were you filming a show, but you’re also only four months postpartum, adjusting to being parents for two under the age of five, and Daveed filming his movie over seas, the time to be intimate was almost nonexistent. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself and Daveed a glass of wine before heading back upstairs to wait for him. The kids were asleep, candles were lit, you had a bath waiting for the two of you upstairs. You had everything planned.

You waited and waited for Daveed to come upstairs, but it’s already been ten minutes. You tried to stay awake but the exhaustion from your busy day took over and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, there was a blanket placed over you and the wine glasses from last night were gone. You got out of bed you glanced at the clock, and it was only 8:00 AM. You checked on Daniel and Ari, and they were already out of bed. Daveed must’ve taken them downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen, and you should’ve been grateful to see your husband making breakfast but the only thing you could think about is the mess he’s making while doing it.

“Morning! I didn’t want to walk you, Ari was fussy, so I gave her a bath. By then, Daniel was already up so I figured we’d get breakfast started.”

“We made you breakfast, Mommy.” Daniel smiled; face covered in syrup. Daveed smiled you tried to return it, but you walked over to the highchairs where your children were nestled safely, kissing their foreheads. You made yourself a cup of coffee and went to sit in the sunroom alone.

You were torn at your feelings; you’ve been waiting for the day when Daveed woke up with you and had breakfast as a family. The one thing you wanted to do right now had some peace and quiet to yourself. You’ve been in Mommy mode for the last three years and you were exhausted.  Not that Daveed wasn’t present, but you were the one who got the phone calls from daycare, took Daniel to the dentist and doctor. Ari was breastfed and since Daveed started filming soon after she was born, she was a “Mommy’s Girl”. Which left you very little time to be alone as Ari would refuse to go to anyone even sometimes Daveed.

“I made you a plate.” You turned to see Daveed standing in the doorway with a breakfast tray for you. You felt a pang of guilt, Daveed probably wanted to spend time with you but then you remembered that Daveed didn’t come to bed last night.

“Thanks.”    

“Babe—”

“What did you do last night when you came home?”

“I-I was uh…playing video games?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a question, were you or weren’t you?”

“I was, it was a long day and I needed to unwind.”

“Okay, thanks for the breakfast.” You said, unsatisfied with his answer.

“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. By the time I came up you were already sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you had planned something—”

“It’s okay,” No it wasn’t. “Thanks for breakfast.” You grabbed the plate from Daveed.

“Babe,”

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

Daveed can admit it, his schedule has been busy for the past few weeks, to be honest, months. It’s taken time away from not only you but the kids. Not that you weren’t happy for him, his movie is expected to generate a lot of Oscar buzz and he has to do press. Daveed tried to make up for it by calling and facetiming you and the kids often, but that still doesn’t make you miss him any less or him feel less guilty. 

Today he was home, the official premier of his movie is tonight. The plan would be you and Daveed we get a hotel in the city with the kids. While you two were out, Nicolette and Jasmine were going to watch the kids. Then, back to the hotel for the night and check out the following morning. This would be the first night in a long time that you and Daveed were going out, just the two of you. You wished it wasn’t a LA movie premier but, nonetheless, it would be your fist night without the kids, sorta. You’ve never gotten dressed for an event with both Daniel and Ari though, you’ve done it plenty of times with Daniel but now you have him and Ari.

The easy going morning was short-lived as you stated getting ready to leave for the hotel. Daveed had gone to get something he needed from the store. You urged him to have it delivered but he just had to go. Leaving you with the kids. Alone. Again. You put both of them down for a nap so you could pack in peace. You were currently in Daniel’s room getting his bag together. A series of rapid knocks and the doorbell ringing pulled you out of your thoughts. You instantly groaned,

“Who the hell is that?” You mumbled to yourself. You dragged your feet down the hall and down the steps. You opened the door and weren’t ready to see your friends standing on the other side.

“What the hell?”

“Are you gonna invite us in or?” Nicolette asked.

“Uh, yeah come in. What are you guys doing we’re supposed to meet you at the hotel.”

“We know, Daveed called us last night.” Jasmine explained.

“Last night?”

“Yes, so go upstairs. Daveed’s gonna be here in like five minutes.” Jasmine urged.

“I’m not packed! I was getting the kids stuff together.”

“Daveed packed your bags for you. Put something on he’ll be here soon!”

You went upstairs to your bedroom and sure enough, Daveed had your bags packed you frowned at the luggage he used. Maybe he packed both of your things together. You threw on your favorite lounge set and some sneakers. You went back downstairs, luggage in tow to see Jasmine and Emmy playing with Daniel and Ari.

Not wanting to draw attention you waved silently left to meet Daveed outside. You smiled upon seeing your husband waiting outside the car for you. Forgetting about your luggage, you run up to Daveed and jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“Being a bitch this morning.”

“I’m to blame for that, I know I haven’t been around—”

“It’s not your fault,”

“It kinda is, so we’re flying to France for the premier there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, also I want to show off the woman that’s been holding me down for the last six years.”

“What about the premiere tonight?”

“We’re not going, we’re going to the airport tonight. But we only have five hours so I’m gonna send you off to your nails and hair done and then we’re going to the airport.”

“Daveed—” he cut you off with a kiss

“I’ll see you later. I’ll finish up here.”

Right after your pamper session, you and Daveed were on a first-class plane ride to France.

You still don’t know how Daveed managed to get this all set up in a little bit of time he had. Daveed prepared a full afternoon for you as soon as you landed, a private couple massage in the hotel room he booked, lunch brought to the room and a facial. The premier wasn’t until the next day, but Daveed wanted to pamper you to the fullest. He was out doing some last-minute things so you took this time to call Jasmine and Nicolette.

“Girl I wish I had a husband like yours.” Jasmie joked

“I know I might have to let him get some ass tonight. He’s been asking since we got together.”

“Girl you gonna have to do a split on it.” Nicolette teased

“Make a whole movie.”

“What’s your new Porn Star name girl?”

“Shut up, how are my babies?”

“Ari’s been up since 7:30, Daniel’s still sleep. We’re about to wake him up and give them breakfast.”

“Is Ari okay?”

“She was fussy last night but we got her to lie down. Daniel’s been fine, girl he hasn’t even asked about you guys.”

“That sounds about right, well I was just calling to check on you guys. Thank y’all so much.”

“Of course! We got you girl, go get dicked down tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, bye!” As soon as you ended the call Daveed entered the room. A fresh bouquet in hand

“Are those for me? Babe, this is entirely too much.”

“I don’t think it’s enough.” Daveed pulled you into a kiss

“Daveed, really this is just…thank you babe.”

“You deserve it.”

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner at Substance and then you’ll see after.”

You were amazed at the attention to detail that your husband put into making you feel loved and appreciated in this little bit of time. Some how the two of you had a private dinner a in room away from everyone else. You haven’t spent this much time as a couple since before you had Daniel. Not that you weren’t grateful for the little family that you’ve made but you miss just spending time as husband and wife, but with your growing popularity and life it’s been difficult.

“Promise me, that we won’t lose this when we go back home.” You said

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want the only time we have time together…just the two of us is when you plan these elaborate getaways. I want alone time with you back in LA too.”

“I know I’m partially to blame for that…we’ll do better. I’ll do better to make sure we don’t forget about us.”

“It’s not just you, it’s me too. I love being a mom, but I don’t want to forget how to be the person you fell in love with.”

“Me either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daveed.” The two met in a loving deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around Daveed’s neck, he pressed his hand against the small of your back pulling you closer, as if that were possible. You pulled away first, breathing heavily.

“Make love to me, Daveed.”

Daveed’s lips never left your skin from time you left the restaurant to now laying against the bed while Daveed took his time undressing you. In the car leaving the restaurant, Daveed teased your clit over you lacy thong while sucking on your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud in the car. It didn’t help in the elevator that Daveed was kneading your ass while waiting to arrive to your floor. His hands and moth were attached to you in some way, driving you crazy. He always stop just short of making you cum, edging you.

“Daveed,” you moaned impatiently

“Wait…” Daveed tenderly took the straps off your shoulders and shimmed the dress down your body happy to only see you wearing a black thong.

“Damn baby just a thong?”

“All for you.” Daveed attacked your neck before making his way to your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth gently biting and sucking in it while he tugs on the other. You cried out in ecstasy, arching your back off the bed. Daveed switched to the other breast offering the same treatment. Your lift your hips, hoping to feel something.

Daveed makes his way down your body, avoiding where you want his mouth the most, instead he kisses your inner thighs.

“I love you so fucking much. You deserve the whole world and if I could give it to you I would. So perfect, beautiful, my wife.” You moaned at the praises mind too foggy to say anything. Daveed opens your legs and moans at the sigh before him, your thong soaking wet from the foreplay. He mouths at your clothed pussy, and you let out the most pornographic moan that went straight to Daveed’s dick.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Daveed…please. I want you.” You breathed.

“You have me, baby.”

“Please…please.”

“Use your words, what do you want?”

“I want…I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“See, how hard was that?” Daveed moves your panties to the side and sucks on your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, pulling on it, causing him to groan.

“Oh, fuck Daveed.” He opens your folds and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal. Daveed could feel your walks squeezing around his tongue, he pulled his tongue away and plunged three fingers in you finding that spot and went back to sucking your clit.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You squealed as your juices flowed into Daveed’s awaiting mouth. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss, teeth clashing against each other. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Desperate for something, you began grinding your hips up against his to feel anything. You started tugging on his clothes, tired of being teased.

“Too many clothes.” Daveed smirked, he loved when you were fucked out and needy. He quickly took off his clothes and threw them to the floor. He hooked his hands under your legs and pulled you toward him. He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip on your folds, you were so wet he could’ve just slipped his dick in but he anted to tease you some more.

“Make love to me. No more teasing.”

“Since you asked me so nicely.” Daveed slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch, it’s been a while since you and Daveed were intimate, but you welcomed the slight pain. Daveed had to compose himself before moving, your pussy hugging his dick so nicely that he almost came at that moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders for a deeper angle making you both groan. When he started thrusting it didn’t take long for. The squelching of his dick going in and out of you was music to your ears. Some days, it was rough and hard, sometimes you only have time for a quickie, but now Daveed wanted to take his time with you and live in this moment forever. There was no rush, no Zoom interview, no five-minute commercial break, just the two of you in this moment.

“Daveed, Daveed,” You clawed at his back as you reached your peak, quicker than you wanted to. Daveed kept the same pace not wanting this to end, holding his own release at bay. You closed your eyes overtaken by the immense pleasure your husband was giving.

“Look at me,” Daveed ordered you opened your eyes and was met with Daveed’s intense stare. “keep looking at me, okay.” You nodded your head gasping as he kept fucking you into your next orgasm.

“Daveed, it’s too much.” Daveed’s slow deep stroke were killing you. You chanted his name over and over like a mantra.

“One more, just give me one more baby. I know you can do it.” Daveed’s thrust were getting sloppy as he was reaching his peak. One more thrust and you came together, your walls squeezing him as he came inside you. You both breathed heavily as you were coming down from your high. After a few moments, Daveed pulled out of you and pulled you close to him.

“Hey,” He breathed, you smiled softly.

“Hey. That was amazing.” You could see the compliment go to your husband’s head and rolled your eyes. You drew lazy circle on his chest.

“Thank you everything.”

“I should be thanking you and I’m sorry for not making you feel appreciated. I love you and I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone else but you.”

“I love you too Daveed.” You shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep in the arms of your husband.

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

[she-karev]

The Doppelganger (Maya x Carina Funny/Sweet Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Four

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Fancast: AJ Cook as Mia Knight, Matthew Gray Gubler as Spencer Knight

Ship: Maya Bishop and Carina DeLuca

AN: I decided in honor of Pride month I was gonna do one shots of Maya and Carina because they are goals and since Station 19 ended it’s up to us to keep the epic romance alive. Sign up to save Station 19 guys it’s too good of a show to end so soon. If not ABC then let another platform take it and run it. https://www.change.org/p/save-station-19

Summary: Carina has a patient who looks almost exactly like Maya and everybody except her can see it.

Words: 2134

June 06, 2023

Carina and Andrew stand by the OB station waiting for their chief resident to present their patient. In honor of Pride month Carina has an iron on bisexual heart and a new progress pride flag embroidery patch on her white coat. Amber DeLuca nee Karev runs to her husband and sister-in-law with an apologetic look.

“Hey sorry I’m late I had to reassign Kwan. Apparently, Link is feeling nice and decided to let him skip pre op notes which is good for Kwan’s studying but bad for my patience.”

“Which is none.” Andrew points out knowing his wife.

“Exactly.” Amber grabs a tablet, “So what do we got?”

Carina explains leading them down the hall, “Mia Knight 45 years old, 39 weeks pregnant, she and her husband came here from Los Angeles for a scheduled C-section.”

“Los Angeles?” Amber asks reading the chart, “It’s a long way for a C-section, is there an indication for prenatal conditions? And why do we need a general surgery attending?”

“Because 8 years ago after she gave birth to her second child there was a tear in her bladder that the OB missed 6 hours after childbirth.” Amber looks at Andrew in shock over this horrific story, “She wasn’t a priority until her BP was dropping and they did an ultrasound. When they got her into the O.R. she had free fluid everywhere it took two trauma guys just to find the source.”

“She almost died.” Carina adds clearly triggered due to being newly pregnant, “And when she got pregnant again, she went to three OB’s who recommended a scheduled C-section so that she wouldn’t risk tearing the scar internally. I went to med school with one of them and she sent them to me.”

“I don’t blame her for being cautious. I would be too if something like that happened to me after Lucy was born. Are there any complications so far?”

“None but she’s 45 so she’s at risk for more post-partum complications than she was 8 years ago.” Carina stops them outside the door, “Let’s make sure she knows we are gonna do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Carina opens the door and all three of them enter the room. Carina greets the couple with a smile while Amber and Andrew stand back in shock at what they see. Mia Knight is in bed reading a book over her gorging pregnant belly and when she looks up at them the couple can register that she looks just like Maya Bishop.

Mia puts the book down and turns to Carina, “Hi you must be the famous Carina I heard about. Dr. Lorenzo sings your praises.”

Carina smiles at that, “Oh that’s nice well I’m glad she sent you to me, I am here to deliver your baby safely and make sure you both get home. Where’s your husband?” Andrew and Amber look at Carina shocked she is acting so professional with a woman who could pull off as her wife.

Mia chuckles, “I told him this book was boring me, so he decided to go to the nearest store and get me a new standard romance. He’s been doting a lot. It was sweet at first but at some point, it got kind of annoying. I’m sure that’s the hormones talking.”

“He sounds devoted, I have a lot of patients whose husbands don’t even go in the delivery room. I think their afraid seeing their wives like that will ruin sex for them.”

Mia laughs while Amber and Andrew look at each other stumped. Amber mouths ‘Maya?’ and Andrew answers with a scared nod. Suddenly a man comes in with a Barnes and Noble bag.

“Hey sorry I’m late I was on the phone with your mom apparently Henry wants to spend the night with his friend and wanted to run it by me. Also, Phoenix wants to know if we can stop by the space needle and take a picture.”

Mia smiles, “Assuming I can fit in selfie mode by then. Spence this is our OB Dr. DeLuca, and this is the cavalry, doctors this is my husband, Spencer.”

Carina shakes his hand, “Hi Spencer you guys can call me Carina. So, Spencer what did you get the lady of the hour?”

He reaches in and takes out the books, “I got you a Colleen Hoover and a Nicholas Sparks if you feel like crying.”

Mia chuckles, “Spence I’m carrying a baby and I’m fat I’m always crying honey.”

“You look beautiful.” Spencer tells her for what no doubt feels like the 100th time causing her to kiss him on the lips. The sight of a clone of Maya kissing somebody else causes Amber and Andrew to stare too stunned to react. Carina turns to Amber and Andrew looking confused on why they look like they’re seeing a ghost.

“Dr. DeLuca?”

Both of them snap out of it and say at the same time, “Yeah.”

Mia catches on and looks amused, “Related?”

Carina points to them, “Brother and his wife, his wife who is supposed to be presenting.”

“Oh, wow three doctors in the family that’s gotta be a record.” Spencer chips in.

“Five actually my brother and his wife are also doctors here, yep a lot of us are connected, sometimes in very unexpected ways.” Andrew snorts under his breath with Carina looking at him confused. Amber clears her throat remembering where she is, “Mia Knight, 45, in today for a scheduled C-section and overnight observation.”

“And why is the C-section scheduled?” Carina asks.

“Due to a tear in her bladder after her last vaginal birth it’s safer to do it surgically that way it lowers the risks of opening old scars internally through labor. And because of her age she’s at risk for postpartum complications.”

“My age?” Mia asks Amber with an offended look. Andrew purses his lips and stands back not wanting to get in the middle of a showdown between his wife and a pregnant woman.

Amber looks up like she’s run into a knife, “Oh um…45 is young don’t get me wrong but for being pregnant it’s…it’s not…”

Mia breaks out into a smile and chuckles, “It’s okay I’m messing with you.” Amber exhales in relief and relaxes to Andrew’s amusement, “I know I’m no spring chicken that’s why I tossed the condoms out last year and here we are about to have a late in life baby.”

Spencer grins, “If you think I was shocked imagine our boys when they found out mom can still get pregnant. Henry is 13 and Phoenix is 8 so they know enough to be disgusted.”

Carina preps the ultrasound, “13 and 8, what are boys like at that age? I’m asking so there’s no surprises for me.”

Spencer helps Mia pull her gown open so they can do the ultrasound, “You have kids?”

“I have a son he’s 1 and my wife and I are pregnant.”

“Congratulations.” Mia exclaims as Carina puts the gel on her belly.

“Thank you. I’m asking because I want to be prepared for what happens down the road.”

“Oh, it’s the best.” Mia tells her with a smile, “They’re out of diapers and you can get them to wash your car for extra allowance money. It makes up for the teen hormones and them constantly saying ‘I am a grown up’. There’s always up and downs at every age, you just have to not lose your mind.”

Andrew chuckles, “It matters the most when their 2 our little girl is that age and she is an adorable monster.”

Amber grins, “Yeah she gets that from her father.” Andrew grins at Amber.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Carina waves the wand over the belly and the screen shows a fully developed baby boy, “The baby looks strong, fetal heartbeat is normal and he looks ready to kick out of there. Are you both excited for a third boy?”

Mia grins, “You know after we found out Phoenix’s sex we decided to try again after for a girl but then…” Mia looks tormented by her last birth causing her to cough, “I was fine with the life I had after and then when we found out we were pregnant again I didn’t care if it was a goat just as long as I would have a better experience than last time.”

“And we’re gonna give it to you.” Carina affectionately holds Mia’s arms for assurance causing Andrew and Amber to look at each other over her comforting her like she would comfort Maya, “We are here to listen and to help you deliver this baby safely and go back home safe and sound. I will do the C-Section with Dr. DeLuca there to help in case there’s any complications. Amber here will be monitoring you before and after and page us if there is an emergency.”

Spencer looks at Mia with worry, “Are you sure it’s not gonna happen again? Because I waited while she was in the O.R. with our sons and it was hell. I don’t want us to go through that again.”

Carina looks at them understanding, “I know you’re scared, and you have a right to be but this is not like last time. Fetal medicine has evolved and so has our standard of care. We have crash carts for emergencies, checklists, and nurses working around the clock. We will take of your wife and baby, okay?”

Spencer and Mia look slightly relaxed and look at each other for a moment before Mia nods and her husband turns to them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Mia says with a shaky breath.

Carina wipes the gel off Mia’s belly, “Okay I will go and prep an O.R. for you, Amber here will monitor you and prep you when we’re ready to go. You got this Mia.”

Carina walks out of the room with Andrew while Amber stays behind to monitor Mia’s vitals, still being transfixed by the similarities between her and Maya. Carina connects the tablet to a keyboard and types in the latest updates to Mia’s chart with Andrew right next to her looking at her with a gaped mouth and raised eyebrow. Carina notices and looks up with a blank look.

“What?”

Andrew’s eyes widen at Carina’s obliviousness, “What? Were you in that room just a minute ago?” Carina looks at him still confused, “Do you really not see it right now?”

“See what? Did Lucy hit you on the head with a bottle this morning?”

Andrew chuckles, “I think the hormones are making you blind right now.”

Amber exits the room leaving the door open and goes to her husband and sister-in-law with a scared face, “Oh my god I am getting serious Vertigo vibes here, if she falls to her death in a bell tower, I will not be surprised.”

“Yes, thank you!” Andrew tells Amber.

Carina chuckles lightly, “What are you two talking about? Is this an American thing I don’t know about?”

“She doesn’t see it?”

Andrew scoffs, “I’m also questioning it trust me.”

“See what?” Carina asks frustrated that she is kept out of the loop.

Amber turns to Carina straight with the answer, “She looks exactly like your wife.”

Carina looks surprised, “Maya? You think she looks like Maya?”

“Yes!” They both say in a duh tone but Carina chuckles like it’s the most ridiculous thing.

“That is stupid they don’t look anything alike.”

“Carina they could be twins.”

Amber gasps, “Maybe they are, separated at birth it could have happened.”

Andrew nods seeing it plausible, “Maya’s dad is messed up enough to do that.”

“Well, you are both wrong. Mia is 10 years older than Maya and she was born in Fresno.” Carina looks at them both amused, “Just because she has blonde hair and blue eyes doesn’t mean her and Maya are alike. Amber is blonde with blue eyes, and she looks nothing like Maya.”

“You really don’t see it?” Amber asks incredulously, “How can you not see it? My blind aunt in Omaha can see it.”

Carina rolls her eyes already annoyed, “I have to go prep the O.R. and you should go back in there and monitor Mia, so she doesn’t have a traumatic birth experience again. Mia not Maya Amber. Keep me updated.” Carina walks away from her brother and sister-in-law who look baffled by Carina’s stubbornness.

Amber grabs a tablet before turning to her husband, “We are not crazy.”

“Nope and I am gonna prove it.” Andrew pulls out his phone, “I’ll send you a text so you can open the blinds.” Amber nods at the plan and quickly goes back inside the room while Andrew calls Maya so she can come and prove themselves right to Carina.

Next Part Here

[valos-venus-doom]

Drawn & Quartered -- Chapter 8

DECEMBER 2011 – 10 MONTHS LATER

Caitlyn was sitting at a table in some upscale restaurant in Helsinki, waiting for her boyfriend Matthias to return from the bathroom. They were out to dinner for their 1 year anniversary. Caitlin had given him back the ring he had tried giving her far, far too early right after Ville had broken up with her, and she had a feeling Matthias was going to try it again.

Caitlin could no longer stand him, but they had leased an apartment together, she felt stuck. She never loved Mattias, and if she was honest, she barely even liked him. She was just too afraid of being alone.

Across the city, Ville was packing sloppily, almost considering not doing it at all. It was customary, for him at least, to get a hotel room close to Tavastia for Helldone. If he partied too hard, or he was too tired, he could just walk 1 block instead of waiting for a taxi home during the busiest time of year.

Sasha, the groupie he’d met well over a year ago was helping him. Mostly just carefully folding clothes while he flung them at her. Ville barely tolerated her, and Sasha knew it. But she supplied him with pussy and coke and wasn’t bad to look at. However, he considered her vapid and annoying, so she never stuck around for more than a few hours, and Ville *never* allowed her to spend the night. For Ville, though he adamantly denied it to himself, was still painfully hung up on Caitlyn, and he was no closer to being ready for someone to take her spot in his bed than he had been a year ago.

But yet, he still hung out with Sasha enough that the press began calling her his girlfriend, which Ville refused to verify. He even found “friends with benefits” too strong of a term, but it had to do. “Random groupie I bang because she supplies me drugs” was pretty tasteless, even more so than the entire situationship Ville had found himself in.

Ville walked out of his closet with a few jackets and saw Sasha holding a ring box looking confused. “Where’d you get that?” he blurted out, sounding a lot harsher than he’d intended, startling Sasha.

“It was in the pocket of his jacket.” She replied, a small smile playing on her lips, like she was cautiously optimistic.

“Well put it down, it’s not for you.”

The smile immediately dropped from Sasha’s lips. “Sorry…” she muttered.

Instead of feeling bad, Ville’s annoyance just grew. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation, “I mean really, why would that be for you…” he grumbled.

Sasha was quiet for a while, embarrassed and dejected, but it was Ville Valo, and he gave her attention, so who was she to turn that down? “Do you want me to get you some coke for the weekend?” she sheepishly offered, trying to get back on his good side.

“No.” Ville replied quickly. “I told you I’m done with that.”

“Do you… want a bj?” she suggested

“No. Just—fucking take this, and go get me a carton of cigarettes.” He tossed some cash at her. “Make it two.”

Sasha silently got up and left, forgiving him immediately for how callous he had been, firmly believing it was a much better deal having Ville Valo in her life than not having him at all.

Back at the restaurant, Caitlyn blankly stared at Matthias as he was reading off a speech to her from his phone. She knew exactly where he was going with this, and she couldn’t even bring herself to feel badly about her disinterest. Suddenly, a large black truck stopped at a redlight right outside the windows she was facing. It had “HIM” plastered across the side.

Her eyes widened, “Of course” she thought… it was nearing Helldone again. That was their equipment truck making it’s way to Tavastia, surely. She’d seen it so many times before.

“So that’s why I really think that we’re meant to be together, and I was really hoping—”

“Matt.” Caitlyn cut him off quietly. “Do NOT get out of your chair and kneel down on this floor. Not again. Not in front of all these people.” her tone, though quiet, was sharp and stern.

Matthias looked confused, but Caitlyn continued, “You really want to do this *again*? You didn’t learn from the last time that doing this in public is *not* how I want this to happen?”

“Oh…” Matthias whispered.

“Do you remember what the hell I told you last time?”

“'Public proposals are tacky.'” Matthias sheepishly recited.

“You’d think you’d plan this out better.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes and took a big gulp of her wine. “This wine sucks.” She grumbled.

“Do you want to go someplace else?” Matthias questioned.

“Yeah, home.” Caitlyn picked up her purse and started walking out.

As Caitlyn walked the snowy streets, she felt her cheeks flush with anger. At herself for being so rude, at Matthias for being so dumb, at everyone for having the audacity to be walking so slow and in her way when she just wanted to hurry up and get home. Soon, something caught her eye. The equipment truck again, parked outback of Tavastia. Whether it was rage, or the several glasses of wine she’d had, suddenly Caitlyn turned and began hurriedly walking towards it. Not sure why or even what her goal was but she was focused. Almost too focused and nearly got hit by a car. Caitlyn ignored the angry horn blasts and kept moving.

She rounded the corner of the back of the building and saw the backdoors wide open as roadies and crew members buzzed around trying to get everything in order for the shows that were to be held the last 3 days of December. Ville was no doubt in there, getting things sorted himself. Rehearsing even. So, despite the knot in her stomach, she carried herself in through the backdoors. It had been one long year, and boy did she have some shit to get off her chest. She had a serious bone to pick with Ville.

She smiled politely at the crew members who met her eyes, they recognized her, so no one stopped her. Back in the dark corridors of the venue, she inhaled. The smell of lumber, dusty rafters, the faint smell of spilled beer and metalhead body odor… so many memories came flooding back to her. The walls around her were covered in scribbles and graffiti. She wondered if the doodle Ville had done was still there, so she started scanning the wall for something written in a purple Sharpie. Scanning carefully for what felt like a very long time, she found it. A purple heart, with the words “Ville & Cait 4evr” sloppily written in his handwriting within it. The threat of tears stung her eyes.

“Caitlyn?” a familiar voice made her jump.

Caitlyn recognized the voice immediately, it was Ville. She turned quickly to face him, his face a mixture of pleasant surprise and confusion, Caitlyn however looked like a deer in the headlights. They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, until Caitlyn gave a weak “Hi.” Her heart beating a mile a minute.

With that, Ville’s face dropped to borderline contemptuous. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked harshly.

The tone in his voice reignited her own indignation. “You and I have unfinished business.”

“Oh do we?” Ville condescended. He glanced down at her left hand, finding no ring. “Guess it didn’t work out with Matthias so you’re here to fuck another friend of mine?”

Caitlyn’s face burned with anger and embarrassment. “You know what? Never fucking mind.” And she turned to walk away.

“Go ahead. Walk away. You’re really good at that, Caitlyn.” Ville called after her, causing her to stop dead in her tracks before swiftly turning on her heel.

“You know what, Ville? You’re right. I am good at that. About as good at it as you are being a dick.” She spat.

Ville scoffed, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cait retorted, “You’re a massive fucking prick and I fucking hate you for what you put me through.”

“What I put you through?” Ville responded in disbelief. “What *I* put *you* through?! Caitlyn YOU are the one who left.”

“After you fucking TOLD me to, you fucking asshole!” she shouted.

“Fuck you! I never told you to leave!”

“What the FUCK was I supposed to do? YOU BROKE UP WITH ME!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the narrow hallway walls.

Ville stared at her as Caitlyn’s chest heaved from yelling, “I didn’t mean to.” Ville replied, barely audibly. Caitlyn could hardly hear him over the furious beating of her heart in her ears.

“What?!” Caitlyn shouted once more “What the hell does that even mean, Ville?!”

“I just wanted to feel like you fucking cared about me.” Ville admitted, clenching his jaw afterwards, in an attempt to stall the tears he knew were sure to well up in his eyes. The two silently stared at each other. Tears openly welling in Caitlyn’s eyes.

"I. ALWAYS. Cared about you." Caitlyn stared him down.

Ville stared back, trying to win the unspoken staring contest until he couldn't help himself. “I’m sorry.” his voice squeaked. Ville’s floodgates broke first, his fist balled up under his nose in a futile attempt to stop it. His head lowered as he cried.

Tears dropped from Caitlyn’s eye and she approached him. The pair tightly wrapped their arms around each other, almost uncomfortably, both breaking the floodgates even more. Caitlyn wept silently into his chest as Ville cried into the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Cait.” He sobbed quietly, his body shaking.

Caitlyn held him tight, inhaling his scent, which made her cry more. Cologne, cigarettes, and just the overall smell of him. She could even smell the house on his clothes. Finally, she felt like she was home. His arms felt so safe.

After a moment, Ville backed off from her, looking up at the ceiling light above his head, blinking rapidly, trying desperately to stop crying. Caitlyn looked around, suddenly realizing people were around and awkwardly trying not to look at them in true Finnish fashion.

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk?” she mumbled, wiping tears from her own cheeks.

Ville nodded and the pair silently left through the backdoors, passing by several very confused and concerned Tavastia employees. Caitlyn followed him, unsure of where they were even going, both of them walking awkwardly beside each other in an eerie silence. Caitlyn remarked that even the usually busy street was quieter than normal.

“Here, this is the place.” Ville muttered, after a block and a half, turning left into a Hilton hotel. Caitlyn followed him silently towards the elevators, avoiding each other’s gaze in the chrome elevator doors as they waited. The tension between them inside the elevator and wandering through the hotel hallway was palpable, neither one of them knew what to say to each other despite having a thousand things they wanted to say. They were both full of anger, longing, sadness, and anxiousness. They both loathed and loved each other, all at once.

Ville stopped at a door, pulled out his keycard and entered, holding the door open for Caitlyn, ever the gentleman. Caitlyn stood in the middle of the room, holding her coat, unsure of what to do.

“Sit.” Ville motioned to one of the two double beds in the room as he sat on the one closest to him. Cait sat, staring at her hands in her lap, Ville staring off into the distance towards to floor, arms crossed defensively. He was scared, they both were. Of what? Neither of them knew.

“How was your Christmas?” Caitlyn mumbled, unsure of how to break the silence.

“Miserable.” Ville blurted out. “Truthfully, I haven’t been much in the spirit since…” he trailed off.

Cait nodded, “Yeah. Me too...." Caitlyn took a deep breath and blurted out "I miss you." before she could scare herself out of it, but she didn't look at him.

Ville looked up at her, telepathically trying to get Cait to look at him in the face, "I miss you too." Cait bit her lip to try to keep her emotions in check, trying to think of what to say, but once again, the pair sat in awkward silence. “You still with Matthias?” Ville blurted out before he could chicken out.

Both of them were internally cringing at the question. “Yeah.” Caitlyn quietly admitted. Ville clenched his teeth, sharply inhalijg through his nose, feeling the rage building again, until Caitlyn continued, “But deeply unhappy. I hate him. I hate my life. I fucking hate everything.”

Ville exhaled and paused, “Yeah, I’ve been seeing someone too…” he admitted. “But not any happier than you are, to be quite honest.”

“That’s rebounds for ya.” Caitlyn nodded, still not making eye contact.

“Indeed.” Ville agreed. "But she doesn't mean anything. It's not serious."

"No?" Caitlyn questioned, eyebrows raised. Finally looking at him.

Ville shook his head, "Nope. Unlike one of us, I was devastated when we broke up and I had the decency to wait a while." Ville exaggerated, knowing he himself had only waited a few weeks. But Caitlyn didn't know that, he just wanted to make her feel bad.

Caitlyn furrowed her eyebrows, "If you're here to argue, I'm not interested."

"What *are* you interested in Caitlyn?" Ville narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms tighter. "Running back to me now that you're regretting your rebound?" the viciousness in his voice even made Ville himself uncomfortable.

"Wow, okay. I'm sorry I even came here..." Caitlyn stood up and headed to the door. Ville's pride forced him into hesitating a moment, but milliseconds later he leaped up from his seat and slammed the door shut before Caitlyn could get out into the hallway. The loud bang startling both of them a little, but they instead stared each other down, jaws clenched.

The standoff felt like hours, but it was mere seconds until Ville lunged, throwing Caitlyn against the door, attacking her lips with his, which she greedily accepted. A moan escaped Ville as he began kissing her deeper, his hand traveling down to her ass, gripping it tight as he pressed himself firmly against her.

Caitlyn pulled back, opting to kiss Ville's neck, right under his ear, and reaching down to cup the growing erection within his jeans. Ville slapped her hands away and began unbuckling his belt, allowing Caitlyn space to take off her top. The pair briefly glanced at each other before kissing each other hungrily and moving their way towards the bed closest to them.

Ville roughly pushed Caitlyn down as she hurriedly took off her tight jeans. Ville assisted by ripping them the rest of the way down her legs and before Cait knew what he was doing, he got on top of her, burying his fingers under her panties. Caitlyn gasped as electric pulses coursed through her body.

"I guess you really did miss me." Ville spoke in a husky whisper in her ear, remarking at how soaking wet she was. "I fucking missed you too." And without warning, Ville plunged inside of her.

He inhaled sharply, and for a moment he was still, relishing in the feeling of being inside the love of his life again, at long last.

Caitlyn wrapped her arms up around his neck as he began violently thrusting, causing her to cry out loudly in pleasure.

"You thought I'd let you fucking walk away from me again? You're wrong." He grunted between thrusts.

Caitlyn dragged her nails down his shoulders as her thighs clenched around him like a vice grip. "I fucking missed you so fucking much." She groaned, each syllable punctuated by Ville's harsh movements. "Fuck don't stop." She begged as she grew nearer to her climax.

Ville moved one hand to her neck and squeezed firmly, he remembered just how she liked it. "That's right, cum for me." He growled. That alone was enough to push Caitlyn over the edge as her legs began to shake and she screamed his name loudly. Ville kept going, prolonging her ecstasy, until he could no longer hold back and he came deep inside of her.

Ville and Cait laid together, sweaty and emotional, still riding the high from the orgasm they'd just had.

Once their bodies regulated, Ville rolled over to grab his pants to retrieve his cigarettes. It wad a non-smoking room, but he couldn't give less of a fuck if he tried. He lit his cigarette and leaned back against the headboard, right beside Cait. Inhaling deeply.

"We just cheated on our partners." Caitlyn said blankly, no guilt present in her voice. Matthias had been a rebound and nothing more, she knew it, and deep down she was sure he knew it too, though it was painfully obvious he wanted more.

"*You* cheated." Ville clarified, lighting a cigarette. "I told you, Sasha doesn't mean anything to me."

Caitlyn side-eyed him, "So since Matthias doesn't mean anything to me, that means I didn't cheat?"

Ville side-eyed her back, "I'm not the one who went and got engaged."

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Not engaged. Never fucking was." She sighed. "C'mon Ville, you gotta admit that Sasha would be upset if she knew about this."

Ville shrugged, "Doesn't mean I give a fuck." And took a deep drag off his cigarette.

Caitlyn furrowed her eyebrows, "What happened to you?" His callousness was unnerving.

"You." He blurted out and then turned his head to look at Cait. "You happened."

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, "Might I remind you that--"

"Okay, Caitlyn." Ville interrupted, his voice raising. "I broke up with you. I fucking get it."

"So why are you taking it out on me?" Cait asked sitting up and turning toward him.

"Because you left. You didn't-- you didn't try. Fight. You just left." Ville's face was a mix of indignation and hurt. "And then you fucked my friend, Cait. Of all the people in the world, you chose-- that fucking destroyed me, Caitlyn."

"You know back then I swore it wasn't to hurt you, but it was. I was so, *so* fucking angry with you. I knew it would hurt. I wanted you to hurt ad badly as I did." Caitlyn paused "But what about you? Are or were you using Sasha to spite me?"

Ville shook his head and took another hit off his cigarette. "Nah."

"No?" Caitlyn questioned.

"Nope. To be honest, she's just a warm body. She might as well be a blow-up doll with a pulse."

"Wow." Caitlyn was once again impressed by the cold callousness Ville was showing.

"Whatever. She's using me too. She's a fucking groupie. And far as I'm concerned, that makes us square." Ville stopped and put out his cigarette directly on the hotel nightstand. "I'd been meaning to ask, and I want you to be honest... When did you fuck him?" Ville asked dryly. "The first time?" He added to clarify.

"What does that matter?" Cait asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Because I decided so." Ville whipped back, barely masking his rage. Cait stared at him quietly. "Oh my God... you fucked him the same fucking day we broke up, didn't you?"

Caitlyn didn't answer, her eyes flicked off to the side.

Ville ripped the blanket off of him and quickly got out of bed. Standing with one hand on his forehead, the other on his hip. "Where?"

Caitlyn stared at him bewildered, "What?"

"Where, Caitlyn? I swear to God if you tell me you fucked him in my.... in OUR bed...." Ville quickly corrected himself, trailing off before letting out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair.

"What the fuck does that matter?" Caitlyn asked "Are you not fucking Sasha in 'our' bed?" Using heavy quotation marks in her tone.

"Jesus fucking Christ, cait, stop bringing her up!" Ville yelled.

"WHY?" Caitlyn yelled back, matching his volume.

"BECAUSE. SHE. MEANS. NOTHING!" He screamed back. "You ran off and got fucking engaged to someone! Engaged within *weeks*, Caitlyn." His voice cracked. "That must mean you had feelings for him." His voice trembled. "Even just a little, you had feelings for him."

Caitlyn stared, tears welling, "Ville... I don't."

"Don't fucking do that, don't pander to me."

"Ville, I'm not! I don't love him." Caitlyn put her head in her hands, "Why do you think I'm here? Do you really think if I loved him I would have chased you down for closure? And immediately gotten into bed with you?" She sighed heavily. "Matthias was the rebound that went too far. I was afraid of being alone... now here I am."

Ville closed his eyes and exhaled. "What if I don't want closure?"

"What?" Caitlyn lifted her head to look at him.

"What if I don't want closure? What if I want you to rip my healing heart back open? What if I want you back?"

Cait stared at him for a moment, "Don't you think we should slow down? I mean a few hours ago we just saw each other for the first time in a year."

Ville chuckled, "That's fucking rich coming from you. I really want to know, Caitlyn. About when and where you fucked Matthias after you left. I need to know. I need to."

"Yes I slept him the same night you broke up with me. No, I didn't take him into your house."

Ville stared for a moment into the distance, processing. "Our house. That house is yours too and you know it." He mumbled.

"She doesn't live there with you?" Cait asked.

Ville contorted his face with disgust, "Fuck no. I barely allow her to sleepover." He sat down on the edge of the bed, smiled, still staring into the distance. "You know, aside from the fridge... I haven't touched the kitchen."

Cait smiled "In an entire year you haven't used the kitchen? Why does that not surprise me?"

Ville sat back down on the bed. "Everything is exactly how you left it. Pristine. Well. In the kitchen that is. Why did you deep clean the house before leaving, by the way?"

"Because... I wanted it to hurt. I wanted you to be reminded of who you left, and what you were missing out on."

"I knew the second I walked out the door, Caitlyn." He looked her in the eyes. "You didn't need to remind me, sweetheart. The fucking moment I stepped foot outside I knew I should have turned around. Turned around and grabbed you and held you an apologized for being such a massive fucking asshole to you."

Cait stared at him "Why didn't you?" Her voice barely a whisper.

"Because I was... a stupid petulant child. You were right." Another tear fell out of his eye. "I was possessive and jealous and selfish..." he put his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, in frustration.

"Ville I had just lost my dad. I was coming up on my first Christmas without him. I just wanted to spend time with my friends at the slopes so I could distract myself." Caitlyn explained.

"I know." Ville said quietly. "And trust me, everyone in my life reminded me and straight up told me I fucked up." He sighed heavily before continuing. "But I was so angry. And I was stubborn. I wanted you to beg for me back... and then I found out you fucked Matthias and I was pissed. My anger felt more justified. But I was also devastated. I knew deep down I had fucked up."

Ville paused, biting his lip closed his eyes, "But when I found out... when I found out you had you got engaged after we broke up... I'm not going to lie to you Caitlyn. I went home that night and thought of every way I could kill myself. I- I had a mental breakdown. I smashed furniture. I put holes in the walls... Mige came to check on me because I didn't get out of bed or answer my phone for 5 days after. I nearly gave myself alcohol poisoning and I had nonstop coke-induced panic attacks... He feared the worst and didn't want my parents to find me first."

"I'm sorry." Caitlyn whispered tearfully. "I wish I could say I never meant to hurt you but I did."

"You didn't hurt me, you destroyed me." Ville corrected. "But I deserved it. I should have married you myself when I had the chance."

Ville turned to face Caitlyn before continuing. "I had a ring for you, you know."

Caitlyn's face dropped, "You did?"

Ville nodded, "Yeah, I wanted to propose over the summer, but then your father died and I knew it wasn't the right time. And... fuck, I wanted to propose to you on New Years at midnight, on stage, at Helldone. I was more agitated than usual, hence the fight, and I started getting cold feet, and I broke up with you. When what I should have done was told you how much I loved you and how scared I was."

"Why were you so scared?" Caitlyn questioned. "I talked about marrying you for years. I wouldn't have said no."

Ville shrugged, "I'm my own worst enemy and I self-sabotage. You know that. You not coming home to spend time with me before tour pissed me off and in my mind, it was a sign that I shouldn't marry you. But I know how fucking stupid that sounds, trust me. Every one of my friends and family have told me how badly I fucked up."

"We're both really fucking stupid." Caitlyn mumbled.

Ville nodded in agreement.

"So what now?" Caitlyn asked.

[l-e-e-woso]

Caught Red Handed PT2 - Alexia Putellas

The link for: Part 1

This is set in like 2025 and PT1 is set in the last couple months of 2024.

Italics = Spanish

____________________________

It had been about 8 months since you had moved to Manchester United from Barcelona because  Alexia had cheated on you with Jenni who she promised that she was over but apparently she wasn’t.

After about a month of moving you eventually deleted all of your social media because every post you would see was about Alexia and Jenni. The posts would also all have hate comments mostly directed towards you saying some disrespectful shit like it was your fault that they broke up to begin with, saying that you had cheated on Alexia and just the usual comments.

It was really bad for you for the first few months but the Man United players had helped you out a lot with just including you in everything, being there when you needed a shoulder to cry on and just being able to talk to them no matter what.

A lot of your old Barca teammates had reached out to you but whenever they asked about you and Alexia, you would just leave them on read and just wait for them to talk about something else. Which made you feel like a dickhead but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk about the situation.

You had grown really close with Mary Earps since joining Man United which surprised a lot of people cause Mary isn’t the calmest person and people thought that your personalities may clash but if anything you had somehow made Mary mellow out a bit.

Currently the whole team was on the team bus heading back to the hotel after a defeat. You were cuddling up to Mary who was fast asleep…well until your phone rang rather loudly making a lot of the girls groan in annoyance. “Turn it off…” Mary somehow managed to say in between yawns as she shoves you with her hand.

“Sorry…” You say just loud enough for all your teammates to hear and went to turn off your phone but just as you went to you saw who was calling. 

It was Alexia…you sighed before answering the call and you were met by loud sobbing. “Alexia? What’s wrong?” You say quite concerned as it was usually a very rare occasion when Alexia cried because she liked keeping it bottled up inside. 

“I-i…I don't know what to do. I’ve torn my ACL again except it's worse than last time, they don’t think it's possible that I will be able to play again. I didn’t know who else to talk to. Nobody understands like you do.” Alexia rants down the phone as you lean back in your seat in complete shock that this had happened to her again. You knew what she went through last time but this felt different like she wasn’t going to try, like she had given up already.

“Ale…you’ve got to try. You're too good of a person and player to give up this easily. You got this!” You say trying your best to put other emotions aside to attempt to cheer Alexia up enough to dig her out of this rough patch. 

“I have! I’ve been doing recovery for the past couple months, Jona just put out that I’m taking some personal time. I think it’s time. I’m getting older now, my body isn’t doing what I want it to do anymore. I’m going to retire.” Alexia says which makes you get goosebumps immediately and cover your mouth in shock causing you fellow teammates to look at you weirdly. 

“A-are you sure? It’s a huge decision Alexia!” You almost shout down the phone completely forgetting the anger you had for her, you stand up and start pacing in the bus. “Si…I’m sure. I just…needed to talk to you first.” Alexia says as she wipes her own tears off her face as she smiles at your concern for her. 

“Ale, I’ll phone you when I get home okay? Bye!” You say quickly before hanging up and staring at the phone in your hand with complete shock. Mary throws her water bottle at you which makes you glare at her. 

“What was all that about?” Mary asks, chuckling at your facial expressions and the fact she had no idea what you were saying when talking on the phone. “It was Alexia. She tore her ACL again but got told she won’t be able to play again so she’s retiring.” You say not really knowing what to do with yourself and a lot of your teammates gasp in surprise. 

Alexia had just won her third Ballon D’or this year and everyone thought she had quite a few more years left. I mean jesus she is Alexia Putellas, La Reina of Barca. 

____________________________

You had gotten home a few hours ago and you were trying to think about if you should forgive Alexia or not but you just couldn’t. It was more that you didn’t really trust her anymore rather than trying to forgive her. It was like she could read your mind because a second later Alexia’s name popped up on your phone. 

“Let me in.” Alexia said as she facetimed you as she stood outside your front door which made you confused but you ran to open it anyway. 

“What are you doing here?” You say slightly angry that she thought she could just turn up to your house out of the blue. 

“I have an interview in Manchester and thought I should come see you in person. I think I owe you some sort of explanation.” Alexia said nervously as she saw your very angry looking facial expressions and shifted from one foot to another waiting for you to let her in, to get out of the freezing British weather. 

You step aside to let Alexia in before closing your door and walking into your living room to sit down so the both of you could talk. “I forgive you…but I don’t trust you. We will not be a thing ever again. I won’t let my heart get broken by you again. We can be friends and that is it.” You say as Alexia sits down beside you on the sofa and then takes a sip of your energy drink which was on the coffee table. 

“I understand. What I did was stupid and it shouldn’t have happened but it did. I broke everything off with Jenni. I regret what I did but unfortunately I cannot take it back, I would if I could. Thank you for forgiving me. I know I definitely do not deserve it but I appreciate it.” Alexia says as she shakily wipes away a few tears that streamed down her face as she caught a glimpse of your face while her head was buried in her hands.

“What are you planning on doing now that you're…retiring?” You ask curiously as you could not picture Alexia just lounging around doing absolutely nothing at all. 

“I’ve been offered a few Head Coach positions for when I retire. It’s between Spain and Barca. I’ve been leaning more towards Spain? Cause Jorge needs to go and the girls deserve to be able to play for their country without getting treated like shit.” Alexia rants as you look at her with admiration for the fact she was still thinking about others even when going into retirement. 

“Well as one of those girls, I'd love to play for Spain if you were our Head Coach. I think all of the girls would agree with me on that.” You said excited that you may play under Alexia for your home country.

____________________________

It was a month later and you had been called up for camp for Spain by none other than Alexia. To say you were excited was an understatement, you and Ona had been talking about camp for the past week which was very annoying for your Man Utd teammates but they were happy for the both of you at the sametime.

You walked into the training ground you were using and were greeted by Alexia. “Good to see you Coach Putellas!”

____________________________

Taglist:   @sofakingwoso @dutch-gay86 @gt713 @mmmmokdok @xxforeverinadayxx  

[brrbrina]

necklace

a/n: i love taylor and there´s a lot of references of her in this series, i wanted to write something connecting my two current obsessions lol,  i hope you like it! 

pairing: jj maybank x reader x joeburrow!obx

warnings: none, english isn´t my first language so bare with me.

It had been almost 8 months since you and JJ broke up, you weren’t sure how it happend it just happend, that’s the funny thing about love, it comes and goes, like the seasons. 

JJ Maybank reminded you of sun, waves and salty water, lately thinking about him made you feel lost, not knowing where you belonged. JJ was one of the first guys who made you feel safe, not only at school but outside of it, helping you carry your books and going window shopping meant he would carry your bags afterwards but he didn’t complained, he loved every second of it. He loved seeing you trying on dresses and twirling in them, “Which one do you like more? This one or the pink one” you said coming outside of the changing room you were in, JJ was there, watching you with sparks in his eyes and a smile that was too big to hide “I like the pink one better” he said smiling at you, “I know right, the other one had pockets J” you said in excitement as you turned around and went back to change.

“Look at this shirt J, i love it, it even matches my dress, you need to get it!” you said holding a white shirt with a phrase of color pink in the back, “It’s really cute but i don’t think i can afford it sweets” you appreciated how honest he was with you, his fear of vulnerability had gone away the first time he saw you cry holding you in his arms after a guy had stood you up on a date, that day, he swore to himself he would never let anyone make you feel that way anymore “Come on J! You’re my best friend, i’m buying it for you, besides you fixed my car last week and you didn’t let me pay for it” you said as you pouted “It’s on me, please” you looked at him with puppy eyes “Fine but only because you know how to make me fold” he said “Yay but wait! You need to wear it a the next bonfire, that way we will match, it’s gonna be so cool” you said almost jumping up and down in excitement. 

You realized your feelings for him the same night he realized he had feelings for you, you were too afraid to ruin the friendship you had with him, it was so pure and so innocent, he never made you feel uncomfortable or pressured to do something you didn’t want to, that’s mainly the reason you fell for him. “I’m telling you Y/n, he likes you” sarah, your best friend said and you could sense a smile through the phone, “He doesn’t Sarah, and it’s okay really, i don’t feel bad about it” you said looking at your phone with tired eyes, it had been a long week and you really wanted to sleep, “He likes you Y/N, he doesn’t treat me or Kie the same way he treats you, and that says a lot he’s been friends with Kie way before we met him” “Look Sarah, i love you i really do, but i need to get some sleep” you said plugging your phone for it to charge “I’ll talk to you tomorrow okay? Love you, good night” you said waiting for Sarah to say something “Love you Y/n” she said before hanging the phone. 

“Guys are you going to the bonfire tonight?” Mya, a girl from your class said while looking so intense at JJ it made you want to fight her, “I don’t think so, or at least I’m not going, we have a huge paper due next week and we haven’t started it, right Y/n?” Pope said, looking at you trying to distract you from Mya, “It’s okay i don’t care, what about you J, you’re going’s right?” she said twirling her hair looking JJ, she wasn’t allowed to call him that, only you could, “Sorry Mya i don’t think i have an option but you have a great time, I’ll see you around” he said before throwing his arms around your shoulders. “Oh shit, i have to go, my pops needs me but i’ll call you guys later today” Pope said looking at the two of you, “It’s okay Pope, the shrimps need you” you said “Ha-ha, very funny Y/n, bye guys” he said before giving you a friendly kiss on the cheek, JJ stared at the two of you, not knowing how he couldn’t have the guts to do the same. “Are you listening to me J? you said snapping his fingers at his face, “Erm, sorry i zoned out, what were you saying?” he looked at you “It’s whatever, don’t worry. Isn’t weird there’s a Methodist right by our school?” you said looking at the church in front of you “Maybe” JJ said “Do you want to get ice cream?” He suggested “Yeah, it’s really hot” you replied. “Lead the way m’lady” he said smiling at you, his Y/N smile as his friends would call it. 

jj: do you really not wanna go to the bonfire?

pope: we have to finish this JJ, i told about this project weeks ago

kie: have you guys not finished it yet? it only took 3 days for me an john b to finish it

jj: i know we have that stupid thing pope but we can go, maybe just 3 hours what do you say? kie? john b? maybe even sarah is going 😏

john b: i don’t think she’s going, she said y/n had things to do and she was going with her 

jj: what thing?

john b: i don’t know man, you should ask her 

That message left JJ’s mind wondering, were you too busy you couldn’t tell your friend your plans for the day? Or maybe it was the fact that all he could think about was you, it was definitely a part of himself that felt like a little kid, but not in a bad way, he never let himself dream too much about a future with you, he knew you were different, ever since he met you in the 9th grade you told him about your dreams, finish high school, get a scholar ship for photography at  LSU, get a business degree, start a business and the flow like water, you weren´t sure if you wanted to come back to the outer banks, “I just feel like there´s so much more i can do with my life, and i don´t know if this town can give everything i need” that´s what you told your parents one time, your family dynamic wasn´t the most normal one, you weren´t a pogue but you never felt like a kook, if there was a middle point in that you were sure you were trapped there but you couldn´t complain, your parents grew up as pogues but worked their asses off when you were little so they could give you a different lifestyle than the one they grew uo having. That’s why JJ was scared, he knew he couldn´t be what you needed, it didn´t helped the fact that  he felt like everytime he did something right it was overshadow by something wrong his dad had done before he was even born. He soon learned to let go of the people he loved even if it meant letting them go for good, he wasn´t scared of losing people, he was only scared of losing you.

“If i say i´ll go to the bonfire tonight, will you wear the shirt i gifted you?” you said while looking at your laptop screen waiting for an email to  pop up in your notification center, “Yes!” he said very excited “I mean, yes, if that would make you happy” he said while trying to contain his excitement. “What time are you picking me up?” “Um” he said nervous, picking you up? As in a date? “I’ll pick you up at 8” he said nervously “Great i’ll see you here, bye j” you said hanging the phone and smiling, you closed your computer with half an admission later wrote, you had a year left but you need to get this done. You weren´t harming anyone, you were excited for your future and you were sure your friend would support any decision you would make. After a few hours passed and you got ready , you heard a ring on the door by the time you got down stairs, your dad and JJ having a chat you decided to over heard, “So JJ, do you know which college you´re applying to?” you herd your dad, causing you to shut your eyes and hope JJ wouldn´t take this the bad way, you knew he wasn´t going to college, it wasn´t in his plans and you weren´t sure if he even had a plan after finishing high school, “Uhm” JJ said clearing his throat “I´m not going sir” he said scared of your dad´s reaction “Hm, interesting” your dad replied “I´m here” you said trying to ease the tension in the room “Shall we? “Yeah um yeah let´s go” JJ said looking at you with stars in his eyes “Don´t bring her home too late okay JJ? I´m trusting you my life right now” your dad said “Bye dad” you said giving him a hug “Bye sir, i´ll bring her in one piece” he said waving goodbye to your dad and letting you lead the way. 

[queseraone]

EXACTLY!! I understand them needing some bad guys but like you said—they introduced too many this season in such a small time frame and it was so difficult to keep up with.

My complete honesty opinion, season 6 wasn’t my favorite. Now there were a few moments that I enjoyed throughout the season but because they only have 10 episodes, I feel like they rushed it.

I have a lot more faith in season 7 because it’ll have more episodes, I just hope they focus on the main cast more. Also like you said about the finale; they basically only focused on the bad people like half the episode, maybe more. It made little to no sense, at least to me 😭

Also that ‘cliffhanger’ was eh. I’m personally not too upset about it so it’s not like I have to wait 8 months to find out what happens, but then again, they should have made it a bit more exciting so people have something to look forward to, Yk? (Sorry I need to talk about this stuff 😭😂)

Wayyyy too many bad guys, and here's the thing... none of these villains feel authentic enough?

Rosalind Dyer was the ultimate villain, in part because we understood why she did what she did (I mean, in theory - she was a straight-up psychopath... but that was the reason). Armstrong was a great villain (which, admittedly, I did not see coming at all!) because again, we understood his motivations, what made him go dirty.La Fiera, same thing. They delved just enough into her backstory that we knew how and why she became a criminal.

That's what's lacking with Monica (and Elijah before her). They're just there and we're told they're the bad guys and we go with that. Why did Monica become this evil lawyer?? I would imagine she wasn't always like this, because Wesley was involved with her, and he's not a scumbag. So I think that background was a glaringly missing piece. (And if I'm dead wrong and they gave this information and I missed/forgot about it, then... oops. But that clearly means it wasn't done in an effective way!)

Fumbled big bad story and villain whack-a-mole aside, I did enjoy season 6 as a whole (I clearly may be in the minority there!). In a lot of ways, it felt more like some of the earlier seasons (...until it didn't).

One thing the shorter season did was allow them to carry some threads between episodes, which I really enjoyed. We know the timeline leans very Jeremy-Bearimy, but it truly felt like whole chunks of this season could have happened over the course of just a few weeks, which is kind of cool.

And yet, some things definitely still felt rushed, especially toward the end of the season. The whole Ray thing could have been more effective spread out over a couple additional episodes. It would have been beneficial to take time to dig a little deeper with the big bad storyline, pepper that arc into the season more, etc. And of course, GIVE LUCY SOME SOLID STORYLINES AND FOLLOW THROUGH WITH THEM IN A MEANINGFUL WAY!!!!!!!

I really hope season 7 takes us back to our characters. That's who I tune in for (especially Lucy and Tim), so I don't want to sit and watch some random criminals for 72% of an episode (let alone as season finale!).

Totally agree, I'm glad that cliffhanger really wasn't much of a thing. There's nothing to stress about over the hiatus!

[running2reanimation]

Interview

Knowledge is power.

Aqua leaned against the counter, bored out of her mind. Never a good sign when, three hours into an 8 hour shift, one has nothing left to do.

Other than wait on the late night customers, of which there was… one.

That Purple guy who’s been coming in with Mr. King. The one who would be about Gold’s age if Gold hadn’t…

When had he come in? And it was interesting that he was alone for once. That was a first.

He approached the counter with a bag of chips and a bottle of one of those fancy lemonades.

“Good evening, thank you for shopping at Wants, did you find everything you were looking for tonight?” She put on her customer service voice and bright smile.

“Not quite.”

Oh please, oh please don’t hit on me…

“I wanted to know a little bit more about King, if you had the time.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What did you want to know?”

“Just… stuff, I guess. He doesn’t talk much about himself, or his life before he met me and I guess I’m just curious as to why.”

“And why are you asking me?”

“You are literally the only other person he really mentions or talks about from before. Does he not have other friends?”

“I mean, he might’ve had some work friends, but Mr. King’s always been a loner.”

“So is King his last name then?”

“He doesn’t have a last name, I don’t think. Gold didn’t have one so I assume Mr. King probably doesn’t either.”

“So what’s with the formality?” He opened up his chips as he leaned against the opposite side of the counter.

“I’ve known him since I was in diapers, but I guess it started when I went to grade school and I thought Mr, Ms and Mx were how all kids referred to adults that weren’t their parents, I guess it just stuck,” She sighed as she realized he’d gotten her talking against her better judgement.

“Was there ever any Ms, Mx or Mr King the second?”

“Haha, he’s been single for as long as I’ve known him.”

“So then where did Gold come from?”

“He had a partner before I was born, apparently she died giving birth to him. I’m not surprised he wouldn’t really mention that, technically I only know it because my mom told me.”

“…” Purple’s expression went dark for a moment before he opened up his lemonade, “You were one of Gold’s friends, right? What was he like?”

“I was his best friend. He was… funny and charming, everyone at school loved him. He was always helping people and was always willing to go the extra mile for someone. But he was also very… reckless and impulsive. I had to talk him out of a lot of dangerous things growing up.”

“When’s his birthday?”

“King’s or Gold’s?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Uh, Mr. King’s birthday is April 3rd, and Gold’s was… December 3rd.”

“Huh, both on the third of the month, what a coincidence.”

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have remembered Mr. King’s if it weren’t for that. I don’t think he ever really celebrated it.”

“…And the anniversary of Gold’s accident?”

“Oh, that’s coming right up, on the 21st.”

“Ah, that explains that then,” Purple said cryptically, crumpling up the empty chip bag and straightening up to go.

“Wait! It’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Purple shrugged, draining the last of his lemonade and tossing the bottle in the bin.

“…How did you meet Mr. King?”

Purple looked at her thoughtfully as he held the door open, debating what to say, if he should even say anything at all. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and he couldn’t quite read her expression beyond that.

“Not to go into too much detail, we met when we were both in some really bad places in our lives. And we both helped pull each other out of it. Now we’re just trying to figure out our new normal, y’know?”

Aqua nodded, “I guess I get it. I was just worried you were… using him, I guess.”

Purple couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It had really been the other way around, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that, “If I was using him, I sure wouldn’t have admitted it just because you asked. It’s nice that you’re worried about him though.”

“Just… be good to him. I’m sure he’s done some awful things while he was grieving, but he’s a decent man.”

“I know. Thanks for the answers, Aqua. See you later,” He stepped out the door and into the night, leaving Aqua tangled in her memories for the night.

[wistfulcynic]

in December 2008 i moved permanently from the USA to the UK and promptly got an ear infection. It was intensely painful, like an ice pick through my skull. i took some OTC painkiller and lay in bed, moaning and miserable. 

my (English) husband looked at me like i’d grown a third head. 

“if it’s that bad why don’t you just go to the doctor?” he said. 

“i--i can go to the doctor in this country!” was my reply. 

at that time, it had probably been 5-6 years since i’d seen a doctor. Not since i stopped being on my dad’s insurance. Even when i’d had my own insurance (via my grad school institution as part of my teaching assistantship compensation, the same insurance as the professors had. Probably pretty good. Still too confusing and scary for me) i never felt like i had the spare cash to cover a copay, was always afraid that what i needed wouldn’t be covered by the insurance. i ignored an abscess in my mouth for weeks until it finally burst in a geyser of pus you definitely don’t want me to go into further detail about, because i was worried that would count as dental and i didn’t have dental coverage. 

you get the picture. Health care in the US sucks hard. 

when my ear was infected, my husband phoned his local GP surgery (with which i was not registered, i was an immigrant on a spouse visa, only arrived the previous week), got me an appointment later that day. They saw me, diagnosed me, gave me a prescription for antibiotics for which i paid (i think, at the time) roughly £7. Cleared up in a few days. 

all i paid for was the prescription. 

some years later my husband made me go to the doctor again. i was having random symptoms i wasn’t even sure were symptoms, a weird laundry list of stuff that could be connected or could be nothing. i went to the GP with this list, worried that they’d take one look at a heavyset woman and immediately go “lose weight fatty!” or “diabetes!” They did not. The doctor was a young-ish woman who listened carefully to everything i told her, looked at my list of symptoms, and said “we’ll test for other things, but I’m 99% sure this is a problem with your thyroid. i’m going to start you on some medicine while we wait for the test results.” 

prescriptions were by then something in the neighbourhood of £8. 

a few days later i got a call from the lab that had run my blood tests. They told me that my thyroid levels were through the roof, so high they were actively dangerous. Cardiac arrest was a likely outcome if it was left untreated. They advised me to get a prescription immediately, and were audibly relieved when i told them i already had one. 

if i’d not been living in a country with free-at-the-point-of-service health care, i would not have seen a doctor. The NHS saved my life. 

why am i going on about this? Well. It’s because NHS workers have planned a strike for later this month, and the press are already on the attack. Fearmongering about how this will throw the system into chaos, patients will go untreated, etc etc blah blah all with the very unsubtle spin of “blame the workers. Blame the strikers. They’re putting your lives in danger.” 

zero mention of how dire the situation is in many hospitals. Not enough nurses (because Brexit among other reasons) and the ones we do have are overworked and underpaid. Too many patients not enough beds. Old buildings, old equipment. 

none of which is a problem with the system. The system’s great. The system works. The problem is the predatory Tory government who would love nothing more than a privatised, US-style insurance-based healthcare system off of which they and their cronies can profit. The problem is how the government has been starving the NHS of funds for over a decade, under the guise of “austerity” and how we all need to muck in together. Except them, obviously. They’re different. 

the problem is absolutely not the people striking because they, like nearly all of us in this country, are shamefully underpaid. Because they deserve compensation for their hard and dangerous work. Compensation they are not being given, despite their attempts at negotiation. 

whenever collective action happens there are always people eager to blame the workers. Greedy nurses, refusing to treat us when we need them because they think their pay is more important. How dare they? They have a responsibility to do their jobs! i am urging all my UK mutuals and anyone who reads this not to be taken in by these spurious arguments or any spin doctoring from the news rags. Side with the workers! Side with the nurses. Side with the people who want the NHS well-funded and thriving. A robust national health service is a universal good. Ours is creaky and wobbling but that is from mistreatment, not because the principle is unsound. i promise you, however frustrating you find the NHS, an American-style system is far, far worse.