#and i got a 5 for both speaking and writing and only a 4 for socialising and my main teacher told me that it just seemed like i was living

[batsplat]

i mean yes that's how it works

[szappan]

i have the temperament of a very nervous and aged little dog. generally cheery and glad to go on walks and to see people but will soon perish from the sheer stress of alla that

[wonderjanga]

Marvel is Kryptonian

This takes place when both of them are first starting out. Clark started first. Then, the bubble popped. Now, since this is early in Supes’ career, that means, sure, there are other heroes around, but none else in Metropolis. So, when he heard of a hero that recently popped up who was suspected by the media to be related to him, he grew curious. He was even more curious when he found out the guy had similar powers to him, not to mention they looked alike. So, when he’s at work, writing a paper, imagine his surprise when he sees many people crowding around one of the tvs in the lounge. Lo and behold Captain Marvel, the guy he’s been hearing about is on live, fighting a giant monster somewhere in Kansas— wait a darn minute, he’s right next to Smallville. Looks like this is a job for Superman.

When Supes gets there, the monster goes down with one final punch from the Captain. When Clark saw the man floating, wearing a warm smile with his cape billowing in the wind, he was struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe they could be related after all.

Marvel: *notices Supes and gives a little wave, torn between wondering if Clark is another hero, or a dude who just happens to be wearing spandex*

Superman: *Flies up to him* “Hey.” *awkward*

Marvel: “Hey?” *also awkward*

*awkward silence of two super powered dudes floating mid-air*

Superman: “Right! Uh- Kal-El.” *offers handshake*

Marvel: *wondering what a “Kal-El” is* “I’m Captain Marvel? Or Marvel? Or Cap? You can call me whatever.” *shakes hand*

Superman: *little disappointed Marvel didn’t respond with his own Kryptonian name. Then says some form of greeting in Kryptonian*

Marvel: *confused at the sudden gibberish from the other man until Solomon translated it for him. Responds back also in Kryptonian*

Superman: *face lights up brighter than the sun*

They got burgers after that. They became super good friends after that too! I mean, sure, Clark’s new friend hasn’t really told him anything about himself yet, but that was fine! Marvel’s super nice, and he’s always willing to help the Kryptonian if Clark needs it. I mean for Rao’s sake, when he got mind controlled for the first time, the Captain was the one who held him off. Then when all was set and done he took Clark to get ice cream. (Buddy doesn’t know he’s boarding the Dad Marvel bus)

The media’s picked up on their new friendship too. There are more and then a couple videos of Marvel’s 8 foot 5 self, picking up a 6 foot maybe 4 inch Superman like he’s a toddler. People think they’re brothers, or at least cousins.

Speaking of cousins, we can’t forget about Kara. When Kal said that there was another Kryptonian, she was skeptical, but then she met Marvel. She was excited when she learned he could speak Kryptonian. She also found it awesome he spoke like an old man. The man also had no problem in learning any new traditions from her. And, he also had no problem in teaching her ancient traditions that she had no clue how he knew. The man looked at to be in his mid thirties at most. (He has knowledge of really really really old Kryptonian traditions and history because a long, long time ago a previous Champion got married to a Kryptonian woman and visited the planet whenever they could. Though, it wasn’t often due to their champion duties.) He also gets her to bake with him while he told her stories about old wars and conflicts she hadn’t even heard of. Not only did she get to teach more of their culture to Clark, she got to learn more about it from Cap. (Is also unknowingly boarding the Marvel Dad bus)

Also, Ma and Pa Kent love him and he helps around the farm as much as they allow him.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this part <3

Summary: You were saved but you still have so many questions. Trying to sort everything out might be harder than it seems.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Talks of torture, self hatred, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"I've healed her as much as I can. Now she needs rest." you heard Madja speak

Darkness.

"I failed her, Rhys" you heard Cassian cry softly

Darkness.

"Thank you for saving her" you heard Feyre gently speak

Darkness.

"I forgot about her, then let Elain convince me to stay for longer. Let her convince me that y/n would be ok waiting a little bit longer for me." Azriel yelled

Well, that explains why he didn't show up.

"She's awake" Rhys stated

Both of the Illyrian males hurried over to you.

"Hey sunshine, how are you feeling" Your High Lord and good friend smiled softly down at you

"I'm fine" you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had been doing

Rhys hesitated, clearly knowing you were not fine. He didn't want to push you but he couldn't leave you alone after everything that just happened.

"Cassian told me most of what happened but there are certain parts he can't fill in. I don't want you to have to relive it but it might help us figure out why you were their target" he spoke so softly, as if speaking too loud would break you

Once he asked to see, it all hit you. The questions about Nyx, so many questions about him, you started to panic. Tears filled your eyes. He needed to know, he needed to understand that you didn't tell your torturers anything. You started hyperventilating, panicking, you had to let him know you were strong enough to withstand the pain.

"Rhys I promise I never broke. I never told them anything. No matter how much they hurt me, I swear. They asked so many times but I never broke, I swear I promise I was strong-" your sobs cut you off and Rhys bent down and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Shh I know. You did so well, please don't worry about any of that" he spoke into your neck, his own tears now pouring down his face.

You couldn't control yourself. Still terrified of saying, doing the wrong thing. You were shaking and crying hysterically. You knew they needed to see what you were tortured over so you sent the thought out hoping Rhys would understand what you were doing. He knew immediately, standing up and giving you a small nod.

You showed him everything, still shaking and crying. Azriel reached out for you and you let him. You needed anything, anyone to anchor you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried in his chest.

Azriel looked at Rhys and saw the pained look on his face as the scene was happening in his head. Once he saw it all, he ran out of the room muttering something about a sleep tonic. The shadowsinger held you even tighter as if he could put all the pieces of you back together.

"I'm so sorry, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, so so sorry...." He kept repeating. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, to help take away the guilt he was feeling but all you could think about was Cass repeating that same thing in the dungeon.

Just like that, the terror built up inside you. Your mind tricking you into thinking you were back in the chains being tortured. You started kicking and screaming, Azriel holding you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

"Rhys, you got that sleep tonic? Anytime now!" He shouted hoping his friend was coming

Moments later, Rhys winnowed in the room with Madja. Once she assessed the situation, she looked grim.

"Sleep tonics will not work, this is too severe. Move, boy." Madja spoke, pushing the spymaster away and setting her hands on you.

You started to settle and slowly fell asleep.

"This won't last long. I can only fix the physical pain or symptoms. Her mind tricked her body into thinking she was being tortured again. I eased that pain but it will take a lot more to ease the pain inside her," the healer looked at them with sorrow, "I'm sorry but this is as much as I can do for her."

Azriel immediately sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand with both of his. Rhys patted him on the back and left to try and figure more out.

You slept for 2 straight days, with Az never leaving your side. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You were his best friend, and more than that he had always been in love with you. After everything with Mor, he couldn't risk getting hurt again or losing you so he pushed his feelings away. It was the most painful thing he had done and once Elain came along he thought it would be easier to keep himself wrapped up in her.

He deeply regretted that now. You would hate him now. He forgot about you, left you there alone. He wouldn't be surprised if you never spoke to him again.

Lucien slowly entered the room, "How is she?" he asked Azriel

"Not great but she'll get there... thank you," his voice broke, "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you yet, thank you for saving her"

Lucien nodded at the male, a solemn look upon his face, "She didn't deserve any of this. I knew you and Elain had been spending time together and it pissed me off. She's my mate, but I knew she wanted you and not me, so I suffered in silence because I thought I deserved it..." he paused, "Y/n has always been kind to me. Accepted me the moment she saw me with Feyre. Offered her company when she knew Elain was away with you so I wouldn't have to be alone. She did not deserve any of this. She did not deserve to be pushed aside and forgotten."

Azriel stared at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it not knowing what to say, opened it again, "...I-"

"Do not hurt her again." Lucien stated, cutting him off and walked out of the room with one last look at you.

His shadows swirled around him, covering his neck to comfort him. They had been all over you for the most part. Wrapped around your arms and legs or nuzzled in your hair. After a while they whispered to him, she's waking up.

Your eyes slowly opened and the male at your side quickly stood to grab you some water. He helped you sit up in the bed against the wall and you both sat in silence for a while. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were the worst they had ever been.

"Sunshine" Az said, and it made you flinch.

You felt like your soul was the darkest its ever been. You weren't sunshine, you were storms and pain. You felt disgusted with yourself, hated yourself for being caught so easily. For allowing Cassian to be taken and have to witness everything. You hated yourself for causing everyone so much trouble and pain. You wished you died in that dungeon.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre all walked in. Feyre had a kind, hesitant smile, Rhys looked relieved that you were awake and not freaking out, and Cassian wouldn't even look at you. You assumed he was probably upset with you for dragging him into this and getting him tortured.

"Do you know why they picked me?" you asked quickly, so you wouldn't have to keep seeing their sad looks

"We're still not entirely sure. We know they were trying to find out things about Nyx but they could have taken any one of us for that." Feyre stated

"Maybe they thought I was the weakest and easiest to get answers out of?" you guessed.

"No, it felt very personal towards you y/n. It was like he hated you, don't get me wrong, he enjoyed beating me up but he was ecstatic to hurt you" Cassian spoke, still avoiding eye contact

"How did Lucien even find us?" you asked

"All he said was that Eris sent him a location and told him he needed to get there right away but that no one could see him there. Once he got there, he heard your screams and ran to save you. We've been trying to contact Eris but he hasn't responded." Rhys spoke

"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to slowly tear them to shreds" Azriel growled softly, still holding your hand.

"I don't understand what I did wrong-" you voice wavered and there it was. The look everyone was giving you made you feel sick. They knew you were broken now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You coughed to try and cover up the weakness in your voice.

"But we'll figure it out and I'll be ok. We'll all be ok. Now, I'm starving so I would love to join you guys for a meal tonight." You tried to smile at them. You needed them to think you were fine, that you were strong. They didn't need a weak link in their group. The last thing you wanted to do was eat but you figured that might convince them you were all good.

The four of them stared at you as if you grew a third eye on your head.

"Maybe you should take it easy, I can bring some food to you" Azriel suggested.

"Yeah that would be easier" the rest of them agreed.

"C'mon guys seriously, I'm fine. Give me a couple minutes to get dressed and I'll head down. I can try to help figure out what this is all about before we eat." you said weakly

"No. You are staying up here and resting. If you are hungry, one of us will get you food." Rhys commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Is that an order from my High Lord or an order from my boss" you asked harshly

"It's an order from your friend." he softly stated, "let us know if you need anything"

The three of them left but Az stayed at your side. You didn't want to be alone but you also didn't want anyone to see you fall apart, which was about to happen any minute.

"Az, can you give me some time alone? I just need to think" you felt bad but you needed to be strong

Azriel gave you a sad smile, nodded, and headed for the door. The second it clicked shut, your facade fell apart. You began softly crying, you laid there all night like that until you finally cried yourself to sleep.

You didn't see the lone shadow in the corner of your room watching over you, and you didn't know Azriel slept outside your room on the floor all night long just in case you needed him.

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[novastarrs]

hiii!! could you do jock!clarisse x nerd!aphroditie!reader pls :))) and like clarisse bullies her but at the end they somehow become friends or like in love idk but if you can’t that’s okay! tyyy xxx!

YOU’RE MINE|| CLARISSE LA RUE

Warning: Horribly written make-out at the end (I apologize in advance), Cussing

Summary: You have to tutor your enemy and overtime she get’s jealous when you tutor someone else.

DNI IF YOURE OVER 19 DIOR IS A MINOR PEOPLE!!!

Nova Speaks: I don’t know how to feel about this but I hope you like it! The ending is kind of rushed and request are still open!

——

You didn’t consider yourself to be a nerd if you were being honest. You just didn’t want to fail all your classes and not get anywhere in life so you sucked it up and got your work done even if you really didn’t want too and because of that perfect attitude your teacher was making you tutor your mortal enemy.

Clarisse La Rue. Star quarterback with a big ego and even bigger muscles. The whole school loved her except for you. At first you had no hard feelings for the girl but when she tripped you in the hallway in front of everyone it was embarrassing as hell especially because she just laughed with her dumb crew and told you to watch where you were going.

Ever since that day you just stayed clear of the girl, it’s not like you guys were friends so there was no point in crossing paths with her.

But here you are sitting in your room waiting for the demon who haunted your thoughts everyday to come to your house so you could help her to her essay. If she didn’t get at least a C+ on it she was going to be forced to sit out of the game this weekend and even though you hated to admit it your school needed her.

You strictly told her to be at your house at 5:30 and not to be late but to no surprise she was. You were even considerate because football practice ends at 4:20 and you did the nice thing and let her go home and shower before showing up and she had the audacity to be late. You could’ve been binge watching your favorite show and making up dumb scenarios in your head.

Sighing heavily, you walked downstairs towards the kitchen to grab a snack out of the pantry. Your eyes moved back and forth as you browed through the delicious snacks that you had, trying to decide on what you wanted to eat.

The sound of the doorbell got your attention and you fought the urge to roll your eyes when you glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was almost six’o’clock and now she decides to show up. Walking over to the door slowly you opened it to reveal the one and only Clarisse La Rue in a pair of gray sweats and a blue crop top that hugged her arms just right, showing off all the muscle she had while her long bouncy curly hair was bulled back into a ponytail.

“Are you going to let me in or keep gawking at me?” She asked in a husky voice with a smirk on her face.

Your cheeks immediately went warm at her calling you out as you hurriedly stepped to the side to let her in. Closing the door behind her you made sure to lock the door before turning around, watching her look around your home.

“Nice place.” She nodded looking at you over her shoulder and you gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Thanks.” You nodded awkwardly not really knowing what to say, clearing your throat you asked. “Do you want a snack or something?”

Clarisse turned her body around to look at you and she not so secretly looked you up and down with a big cocky smirk forming on her face making you blush even harder than before.

“Yeah, I do actually.” She winked causing all the air to leave your lungs making you choke on air as she laughed loudly at your reaction.

“You’re disgusting.” You finally managed to choke out trying to act unaffected but you both knew you were making her smirk even wider.

“You’re the one that offered.”

“I meant food!”

“Sure you did, princess.”

——

“Writing an essay isn’t that hard if you have a good topic.” You began to explain as you sat beside her on the couch in your living room, scrolling through your laptop as she did the same on her own.

“But all these topics are boring.” Clarisse groaned lowly, throwing her head back with a huff. You leaned closer to her and looked at the list of prompts that your teacher gave your class to pick through and she wasn’t wrong the prompts were boring so you just did yours based off of your favorite hobby and why it wouldn’t be beneficial to teach at school.

“How about you do one about football?” You offered your assistance and Clarisse glanced at you.

“But it isn’t on the list.” She stated the obvious and you let out a light laugh making her confused.

“As long as you did the essay she shouldn’t be complaining. Most kids didn’t even do it.” You shrugged carelessly.

As long as the work is done and submitted your teacher shouldn’t have any complaints and if she did she can write the essay for Clarisse.

The quarterback looked at you with a look of disbelief on her face. She thought you did everything by the rules and didn’t take the easy way out of things but she could see she was indeed wrong about you.

“And here I thought you were a goody to shoes.” She cooed and you rolled your eyes but smiled at her.

“Just write something football related down as your prompt.” You nudged her jokingly and she did what she was told without putting up a fight.

Eventually she decided on why football was a great sport for high schoolers and to your surprise she had a lot of great ideas to support her argument. That’s when you realized Clarisse wasn’t dumb like you thought at first (not that you would ever tell her that) but that if it didn’t interest her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it if it was boring. So you made a mental reminder to speak to her teachers about adding football into their subjects because that’s what seemed to be what Clarisse was most passionate about.

If Clarisse was being honest she was pretty grateful for you. She’s been given tutors before and they all left her after the first session due to her not being interested in what they were saying but with you it was different. You actually listened and explained things in a way she could actually understand it without making her feel like she was stupid so that’s how you and Clarisse found yourselves meeting up every Friday afternoon at your place to work on school work together and if you were being honest sometimes you guys didn’t even do work, you talked and got to know each other better.

You learned her dad was a prick who left her and her mother when she was just a baby and because of his abandonment she had really bad anger issues which is why she joined the football team so she could get out all that pent up anger.

She learned that your mother was also a single mother who worked a lot of night shifts because she was a doctor so it was mostly you around the house and you tired to spend time with your mom as much as you could with her busy schedule.

You honestly thought helping her would’ve been a pain in the ass and that she wouldn’t do anything to entire time but it was the other way around. You were so focused on hating her for that one incident you didn’t realize how fun she was as a person and a great friend. Clarisse would be the one focused on getting her work done while you spoke about anything that came to mind and instead of judging you she just listened and added in her own comments here and there.

Due to your study sessions she stopped taunting you at school and to your surprise she actually comes up and talk to you in front of everyone. You just figured she would keep your friendship a secret from everyone so you wouldn’t ruin her reputation but you were wrong.

Her fan club that she gained over the year immediately despised you because they spent all their time trying to get her attention and you somehow managed to get it right away but the two of you didn’t care as long as you had each other to go to whenever you had a problem.

A friendship blossomed and everything was going great until you were asked to tutor another student. A girl named Amira who recently moved to town and she was a little behind and when your teacher saw how Clarisse’s D turned into A+ she immediately assigned you as Amira’s tutor and Clarisse hated it.

You were her tutor first so she doesn’t know why this random girl was trying to take all your attention away from her. At first she was fine with it as you found still hung out every friday but apparently Amira needed so much help that you had to cancel your usual friday hangouts to help Amira some more and that’s what sent Clarisse over the edge. She always looked forward to the end of the week because you were all her’s, all of your attention was on her and now it was gone and on someone else so she began playing her heart out on field and during practice, imagining all of the guys she tackled was Amira and her annoyingly high pitched voice.

Clarisse swore up and down that Amira begged you to tutor her on Friday nights just to get under her skin because when she asked you once and you agreed she looked at Clarisse and had the audacity to smirk and if Clarisse was being honest she was offended, who the hell does this girl think she is taking her girl like that.

You were quick to notice the change in Clarisse’s behavior when she started to become bitter and rude to you and if you were being honest it hurt.

Overtime you caught yourself getting feelings for the girl and you were honestly thinking she felt the same with how close the two of you became and how she would call you sweetheart or baby or when she simply just flirted with you but now you weren’t so sure. So you decided to ask your mom for advice Saturday night.

“-Now she’s being all snappy and mean.” You finished explaining everything to your mother as she got ready for her shift.

“Maybe she likes you.” Your mom said and you couldn’t help but scoff. Clarisse has never taken an interest in anyone and you were a fool to think she would like you.

“Trust me, she doesn’t.” You sighed sadly, bummed out about the situation. Clarisse was your best friend and it was killing you she was being a bitch.

Your mom walked over to you and sat a hand on your shoulder and gently made you look up at her. She smiled sweetly at you and leaned down to kiss your forehead with a dramatic kissing noise making you laugh.

“If you really want to know, you’re going to have to ask her, Sweetie. She’s the only one that has the answers you’re looking for.”

You silently let her words sink into your brain and nodded firmly. She was right, the only one who could give you an answer was Clarisse and you were determined to get one.

“You’re right, mama, thank you.” You hugged her tightly before kissing her goodbye as she grabbed her keys and left. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you sent Clarisse a very dramatic message saying that it was an emergency and that you were hurt.

You knew it was wrong to lie like that but it was the only way you could think of to get her to show up and to get here quickly and you were right because literally five minutes later you heard the familiar sound of her car pulling into your drive way and heavy knocks pounding on your front door. You opened the door and Clarisse immediately rushed past you, ranting and asking if you were ok.

“Are you hurt? Do I need to call your mom? The cops? Wait…do I have to call CPS-” Clarisse rambled and you looked at her like she just turned into a child.

“Clarisse,” You said sternly immediately getting her to shut up. “I’m fine.”

Clarisse paused and her concerned look immediately changed into a look of anger. “Princess, you don’t send a fucking message like that.”

Normally the nickname would’ve made you blush and act like a lovesick fool but instead you scoffed and crossed your arms, leaning your back against the door. “Well I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t ignoring me.”

You noticed her expression soften a little bit before it was immediately covered by her normal scowl that she gave everyone that wasn’t you, your mother and her’s.

“You don’t need me remember? You have Amira.” Clarisse said her name with a bitter tone and you looked at her confused.

“What the hell does Amira have to do with you ignoring me?” You huffed, puffing your lips out and Clarisse eyes immediately locked on them before they snapped back to your face.

“She’s your new best friend isn’t she?” Clarisse snapped and you looked at her in confusion before it suddenly clicked.

She was jealous, jealous of you and Amira spending so much time together that there wasn’t any left for her. It all made so much sense now, whenever you and Clarisse were talking at school and Amira came up to you guys you would always feel Clarisse stiffen up or the way she would mock Amira under her breath.

“You’re jealous.” You laughed with a smile forming on your face and once those words escaped your mouth Clarisse looked at you like you just smacked her across the face.

She was the Clarisse La Rue, she didn’t get jealous especially when it came to dumb blonde’s who tried her hardest to get you to hangout with her. She had guys and girls dropping at her feet everyday there was no reason for her to be jealous of any girl that tried to get close to you but she couldn’t stop the weird feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of you and Amira being in the library by yourselves or the thought of kissing you like she found herself wanting to do ever since she tripped you in the hallway.

The more she thought about you and Amira doing the things she wanted to do with you made her mad but you were too busy to notice because you were still laughing. Marching over to you Clarisse pinned you against the door with a glare on her face immediately making your laughing fit come to a stop and she smiled.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Cat got your tongue?” She taunted, smirking at the stunned look on your face. Her eyes scanned yours before she nervously licked her lips as she brought her face closer to yours to the point you could feel her breath on your face.

“Clari-”

She cut you off by smashing her lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. Her hands trailing down to squeeze your hips tightly, pulling you closer to her. Your hands slowly made their way into her thick curls and pulled causing her to groan into your mouth.

Clarisse was the first one to pull away but not for long as she began trailing kisses down your neck, sucking at a certain spot causing a small moan to escape your mouth. She bit down harshly on your neck, sucking on the same spot, leaving a dark and very noticeable hickey on the side of your neck. You threw your head back as small groans left your mouth as she continued to leave hickeys.

Clarisse smirked to herself as she imagined Amira’s reaction but it only made her leave more hickeys on your neck. After a while she pulled away and placed a soft kiss on your lips and immediately you kissed back only pulling away when you needed air.

“You’re mine.” Clarisse mumbled looking into your eyes before kissing you again and without hesitation you kissed her back.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : THESE WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS!!!! MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of car accident/reader in accident, aftermath of accident, trauma as a result of accident, memory loss, mentions of cheating

Finally get to tell you where the inspo for this fic came from now that it won’t give away any spoilers. (all my Irish girlies stand up 🫡) I’d fully forgotten about this song this song until July, and when I listened to it it sparked the little ideas for me, and that’s how I came up with the main plot <3 I've been going through a break up (which was nearly a 10 year relationship) during the time of writing this so ive poured my heart and souuuuul into this ( i also want to note no themes of the story relate to me maybe only mentally clocking out bc of a bare minimum bf, do not fucking cheat on anyone) . this fic has been my baby and im so thankful to anyone who has read so far <3 p.s if you ever go back and reread this you’ll notice the little pieces of lyrics here and there lol

The world came back to me in fragments - blurred lights, muffled sounds, and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. As I fluttered my eyes open, the harsh brightness of the room made me wince. My head pounded with a dull ache, and my body felt heavy, as if it wasn’t quite mine.

I slowly turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings, and there he was. The man I loved, sitting by my bedside. His face was a mixture of relief and something else, fear, maybe? His eyes met mine, and I felt a flicker of familiarity in the chaos of my mind.

“Alex..” I whispered, my voice weak and strained.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Try not to move too much,” Alex said softly, his hand reaching up to gently stroke my face. His touch was warm, comforting, but something about the way he looked at me sent a ripple of unease through my chest.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely audible, as panic started to rise within me. My thoughts were jumbled, trying to piece together how I ended up here. The last thing I remembered was.. was.. I couldn’t even grasp it.

“You got into an accident” Alex explained, his voice steady, but I could see the worry etched into his features. “But you’re going to be okay. You just need to rest.”

An accident? My mind raced, and instinctively, I tried to move, only to be met with sharp pain that made me gasp. “What about my injuries? When can I skate again? I have qualifiers for the Olympics soon!” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic rush, driven by a fear that I couldn’t quite place.

Alex’s face twisted in confusion, and he hesitated before answering. “Y/n.. you haven’t skated in years.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, refusing to believe what he was saying. “What? No.. that’s not true. I.. I’ve been training. You know that.” My voice quivered with desperation.

Alex exchanged a worried glance with the nurse, then looked back at me, his expression pained. “Y/n, You stopped skating when I was a freshman.. I’m a junior now..”

His words echoed in my head, but they didn’t make any sense. UCLA? Sophomore year? It was as if he was speaking a different language. The last memory I had was waiting anxiously to see if he made the Bruins team, both of us so excited about the possibility of him making it big with football.

“No… no, that’s not right,” I muttered, shaking my head as if it would somehow clear the fog that clouded my thoughts. “Did you get onto the Bruins team?” I asked, clinging to the one thing that made sense to me.

“Y/n..” Alex’s voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of the truth I wasn’t ready to accept. 

The room spun around me, and I felt like I was being thrown into a different universe. Everything was wrong, nothing made sense. My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and I felt like I was drowning in confusion.

The female nurse stepped forward, her expression calm and professional. “Alex, could I speak with you outside for a moment?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Alex squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, his eyes lingering on mine with a look that made my chest tighten. He nodded and followed the nurse out of the room, leaving me alone with the student nurse who had been quietly observing from the side.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, trying to ground myself in something familiar, something stable. “Can someone tell me how long I’ll have to be in here for?” I asked, my voice trembling.

The boy hesitated, looking a bit uncertain. “I’m not too sure, Y/n. We’ll have to wait for one of the staff to give us results first” he said, trying to sound reassuring as he reached out and cupped my hand with his two.

His gesture was kind, but it only added to my confusion. Why was he holding my hand like that? Was he one of those compassionate doctors who went the extra mile for their patients? My mind struggled to make sense of his actions.

“Can’t you ask someone since you work here?” I asked, hoping for some clarity.

He blinked at me, clearly taken aback. “Work here?”

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and the female nurse re-entered the room, followed by Alex. There was a heaviness in the air, a sense of something unspoken. The nurse’s eyes met mine, and I could see the concern etched into her features.

“Ms. Y/l/n” she began, her voice gentle yet serious, “I need to explain something to you. After the accident, you sustained a significant concussion, which has led to a form of memory loss known as post-traumatic amnesia..”

“Amnesia?” I whispered, the word foreign and terrifying on my tongue. My gaze darted between her and Alex, hoping for someone to tell me this was all a mistake.

“Yes” she confirmed softly. “From what we can gather, you seem to have lost your recent memories from about two years ago onward. It’s possible that these memories will return with time, but for now, you’re not going to remember much.”

My world shattered with those words. Two years? How could two whole years of my life just be gone? My breath quickened, and the room began to feel smaller, more suffocating. I glanced at Alex, hoping to find some reassurance, but his expression only mirrored my panic.

“Two years?” I asked again, trying to wrap my mind around it. “What happened in those two years? I don’t remember any of it..” My voice trembled as I spoke, my heart sinking deeper into despair.

“That’s okay, Y/n” Alex said, stepping closer to me. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll help you remember.”

But something about the way he said it felt off. There was a tension in his voice that made me uneasy. I looked back at the boy who had been holding my hand, trying to place his face in the context of my life, but nothing came to mind.

“Who.. who are you?” I asked hesitantly, turning my attention to him. His expression faltered, a mixture of pain and something else flashing across his features.

“Y/n, it’s me.. Matt” he said, his voice tinged with a sorrow that cut through me like a knife.

I stared at him “I- I don't know who you are..” I didn’t recognize him. I didn’t remember anything about him. It was as if the two years that had vanished had taken him with them.

Before I could say anything else, the tension in the room exploded.

“Okay man I think it’s time you leave” Alex snapped, his eyes narrowing at Matt, his voice dripping with venom. “You have no right to be here, especially after what you did.”

“What I did?” Matt shot back, his voice rising with anger. “You’re the one who’s been sat here lying to her! You cheated on her, Alex! Don’t you dare act like you care about her now.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My head spun, the room tilting as I tried to process what was happening. Cheated? Alex cheated on me?

“You’re full of shit, Matt” Alex retorted, stepping closer to him, their faces inches apart. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been lying to her this entire time!” Matt shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done? You think she won’t find out? I won’t let you keep doing this to her.”

“Stop it!” I screamed, my voice cutting through their argument like a knife. Tears streamed down my face as the overwhelming stress consumed me. “Just stop! Both of you, get out! Get out!”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Both Matt and Alex turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of shock and regret. But I couldn’t take it anymore. The confusion, this talk of betrayal, the loss of my memory - it was too much. I felt like I was drowning, and I needed them to leave before I lost myself completely.

“Please.. just leave.” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm in its resolve.

Matt’s face crumpled with pain, but he nodded slowly, backing away toward the door. Alex hesitated, his eyes pleading with me to understand, but I couldn’t even look at him.

One by one, they both left the room, the door closing behind them with a finality that left me feeling utterly alone. The silence that followed was deafening, the emptiness in my heart growing with every passing second.

I collapsed back onto the bed, my body trembling as I sobbed, the weight of everything too much to bear. Two years of my life, gone. The man I thought I loved and a stranger. The man who claimed to love me and a liar. The situation infront of me confused me as to which one was which. The memories I needed to make sense of it all, vanished.

I was lost in a world that no longer felt like my own.

Matt’s POV

I walked out of Y/n’s hospital room, the door clicking shut behind me like a hammer driving the final nail into a coffin. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline from my argument with Alex still coursing through my veins, but it was nothing compared to the fiery dread settling in my stomach. Every word I’d said to her, every desperate attempt to break through her confusion, seemed to hang in the air like a suffocating fog.

I made my way to the waiting area, my feet heavy, my mind numb. The bright, white lights overhead did nothing to chase away the darkness consuming my thoughts. We approached the row of  cold plastic chairs and Alex sat down, his elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. I could feel the tension radiating off him, but I was too consumed by my own torment to care.

I dropped into a chair two seats away from him, the hard plastic pressing against my back, and let my head fall into my hands. My thoughts spiraled, chaotic and disjointed, but always coming back to one image - the moment she was hit.

The screech of tires. The blinding headlights. The sickening thud as Y/n’s body crumpled under the car’s impact. I could still hear the scream that tore through me as I watched her fly through the air, time slowing to a crawl, helpless to stop it. It played over and over in my mind, each replay more gut wrenching than the last.

I should’ve been faster. I should’ve told her how I really felt. I should’ve… My fists clenched in my hair as I tried to choke down the guilt that threatened to swallow me whole.

What was I even doing on that balcony? Watching her run out of the house, pacing back and forth. I should’ve gone to her instead of just standing there like an idiot, too lost in my own confusion and pain to act. And then when I saw the car coming down the hill, everything in me froze.

"Y/n, get off the road!!" I had shouted, but my voice felt so small, so powerless against the force of what was about to happen. But it's too late.

In a split second, the beam of headlights blinds her. The screeching of tires fills the air as the car tries to stop, but the impact is inevitable. I watch in horror as the car strikes Y/n. The sound of the collision is deafening, and time seems to slow down.

She’s thrown backward, landing hard on the pavement. I can’t breathe, my legs feel like jelly as I race down the stairs, stumbling and pushing through the crowd.

When I finally reach her, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I kneel beside her, tears streaming down my face as I try to make sense of the horrific scene before me.

Y/n lies on the ground, her face contorted in pain, her body unmoving. The car speeds away into the night, leaving behind a scene of devastation. The people around us have began to scatter, some calling for an ambulance, others standing in shocked silence.

I gently cradle Y/n's head in my lap, my hands shaking uncontrollably. "Y/n, stay with me," I pleaded, my voice choking with emotion. "Please, stay with me."

She blinks slowly, her eyes meeting mine with a look of pain and resignation. I can see the life fading from her, and it feels like my world is collapsing around me.

The sound of sirens grows louder, and I can hear the distant honking of emergency vehicles approaching. I try to stay strong for her, to keep her conscious until help arrives, but my heart is breaking.

"I’m so sorry," I whisper, tears falling freely. "I’m so sorry for everything."

As the ambulance pulls up, paramedics rush to our side, taking over the situation with practiced efficiency. I’m left standing on the sidelines, my heart shattered as I watch them work to save her. I know that nothing will ever be the same again, and the weight of what just happened is almost too much to bear.

Now she was in that hospital bed, her memories shattered along with my heart. She didn’t even recognize me. My face, my voice - nothing. I was just a stranger to her now, a distant memory from a life she couldn’t even recall.

And then there was Alex. The guy she “loved”, the guy who’d betrayed her. He sat there just a few feet away, but it felt like a canyon stretched between us.  I knew he was going to see this as an opportunity to weasel his way back into her life. She didn't remember any of it, him cheating, the way he treated her like an option. And now this was his free pass, to get her back like nothing had ever happened. I wanted to punch him, to scream at him for all the lies he’d fed her, for making this even more unbearable than it already was. But what good would that do? None of it would bring her memories back. None of it would undo the damage that had been done.

I glanced sideways at Alex. He was still in the same position, as if he were trapped in his own private hell. Good. He deserved it. But the satisfaction was fleeting, replaced quickly by a wave of exhaustion and despair.

All I could do was sit there, replaying the accident in my head, the look of panic in Y/n’s eyes as she realized what was happening, the way everything went silent just before impact. It was a moment I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life, one that no amount of apologies or explanations could ever make right.

All I wanted was for her to be okay, to wake up and remember me, remember us. But even that hope felt distant now, buried under the weight of the reality we were in.

I let out a shuddering breath, forcing myself to look away from Alex and focus on the dull hum of the hospital around us. Waiting, that’s all we could do now. Wait and hope for a miracle that seemed less likely with each passing second.

The door in front of us opened, and in came Nick, Madi, Chris & Emily. I had gone to the hospital with Y/n in the ambulance, and the paramedics contacted Alex as he was still down as Y/n’s emergency contact. The news of what happened tore through the party fast, but getting out of the place was hard to do so with the amount of emergency services on scene. 

“God Matt is she okay?” Nick asks frantically. 

“She’s awake Nick.. she’ll be okay.. But she doesn’t remember anything.” 

“Oh thank god she's okay, maybe it’s for the best that she doesn't remember the accident happening.” Nick says, trying to make me feel better.

“No, Nick. She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t remember me, she won't remember you, she doesn’t have any memory of the last 2 years at all.” I said, tears outlining my eyes.

Nick stood there with a horrified expression on his face. “You love her don’t you?” Nick whispers, so low that only us can hear.

“More than anything Nick, more than anything I know.”

 “Do you think I could go in and see her?” Nick questions.

“If you want, but she’s stressed out at the minute.. Just try your best not to make anything worse.” I say, as Nick nods at me, getting up to gently knock on the door to Y/n’s room.

I take my eyes off Nick and lock eyes with Emily.

“Can we go outside for a minute for some air?” I asked her, knowing I'm about to have a conversation that I should’ve handled differently nights ago.

a/n: sorry.. again..

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[you-call-it-a-dude]

Call It What You Want

Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

Summary: You went to high school with Regina George and she is now your neighbor in your college dorm. She, of course, pretended like she didn't know you at first. Until she got some alcohol in her system.

Pairings: Regina George x gender neutral/fem reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, feelings, school lol, swearing

Notes: Hi, yes. So this is my first time writing for not only Regina George but also for like reader POV. If it's any good and something people enjoy, I will do more of it. Hopefully you like it, but if you don't that's totally cool too. Thanks for reading either way.

------

You had managed to, for the most part, avoid Regina George your three years at North Shore High School. You transferred there your sophomore year, your mom taking full advantage of your dad's Evanston address when you got in trouble once at your public high school in the city. You didn't even actually do anything, but both your parents prioritized your future college education too much to let even a thought of bad behavior ruin it.

You made it through high school pretty unscathed. You laid low, had your small group of friends and kept to yourself.

You witnessed the rise and fall of Regina George in real time. You felt bad for her almost. Yes, she was a major bully, but the one time you overheard her dad yelling at her at a parent teacher conference kinda made some things make sense. She also didn't really target you with her bullshit.

Well, okay, someone wrote in the burn book that you were a carpet muncher and would call you a gay slur here and there, but you've been called worse things. People in that book were certainly called worse things.

Senior year was relatively quiet after Cady dismantled The Plastics.

Regina had taken up soccer, which was actually a really terrifying thought given the neck injury she sustained. She was good though. Good enough to get into University of Illinois, Chicago with a partial soccer scholarship.

But of course, her parents writing a big fat check may help with that.

She didn't even need the scholarship. You don't even know how she got away with getting it.

You also were accepted to UIC. You worked harder than Regina did academically, had some of the best grades in your class, did all the volunteering and extracurriculars, and you still didn't get close to the same amount of money offered in scholarships that Regina got (and didn't need).

You were angry when you found out about her almost full ride, but it was a big school and you were almost certain once you were graduated you wouldn't even be giving Regina George ,or anyone from that high school aside from your best friend, a second thought.

Seeing her at orientation seemed like just a coincidence. Watching her get her keys to the same dorm you were staying in had to be a fluke. Passing by her room, the room that happened to be next to yours, just seemed like you were being punked.

You got yourself settled while waiting on your roommate. You had been speaking with them throughout the summer and know they're coming from Colorado and also know they wouldn't be coming until tomorrow because they texted you. So you were taking advantage of this time to get yourself sorted without having to rush or anything.

You left your door open while you got yourself unpacked, a bunch of people coming by to introduce themselves to you or stop in and talk.

There was a soft knock and you turned your head, expecting to greet another person. Instead stood Regina, leaning against your wall with her arms crossed.

"Hello." You greeted, sounded a little surprised.

"Hi, I just thought since we were going to be neighbors I would introduce myself."

She almost sounded nice? Pleasant?

She also clearly did not recognize you. Yeah you trimmed your hair a bit and dyed it slightly darker, but nothing extremely different.

But this also really helps solidify just how invisible you were to her in high school.

You had two routes. You could bring up the fact that you actually know each other and make it weird, or just introduce yourself.

"Yeah, that makes sense. I'm Y/N."

"Regina. No roommate?" She pointed to the empty side of your room with her head.

"Coming from Colorado. So long drive." You scrunched up your nose at the thought of how long that drive was and she hummed in acknowledgment.

"Are you from around here?"

"Uh, yeah. The city, northside. You?"

"Evanston, so basically from the city."

"Ahh, you're one of those people." You chuckled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She scrunched her eyebrows up, clearly getting defensive.

"You say you're from the city but you're from the suburbs. That's all I meant." You said softly, watching her face soften when she realized you weren't actually insulting her.

"Most people don't know where Evanston is, so." She defended with a small smile.

"Unfortunately for you, I do." You smiled back at her.

"Are you going to the freshman mixer tonight?"

"I didn't even know there was one." You answered truthfully.

"Mkay, you're gonna come with me then. I'll be back at like nine?"

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw it was only like 11am and you quickly realized the long night you've gotten yourself into.

Or that Regina had gotten you into.

"Yeah, that sounds cool."

"Awes. See you later then." She slapped your doorframe once before leaving.

But you didn't miss the way she turned and let her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds longer than what's considered socially acceptable.

---

You spent the rest of the day unpacking and getting settled. You went off campus for lunch then took a walk to get some refreshing frozen lemonade from a popular place near by and drank it while you made your way back to your room.

Regina was still setting her dorm up to her standards. Her door was open and when you peaked in, she was standing on a wobbly chair trying to tape posters to her wall.

Of course she got a single room.

"Need help?" You took a sip of your partially melted peach lemonade and knocked on her doorframe to get her attention.

"Yes, please. That would be great." She said, sound exasperated.

You held out a hand to help her off the chair, but she ignored it. Opting to just brace herself on your shoulder instead. You scratched your head and assessed the situation. You weren't really much taller than her, but your arms were longer so that could work in your favor.

You looked around for somewhere to set your drink before she took it from you to hold. You stepped on to the death trap of a chair and did your best to hang the poster. It was of an artist you had never heard of, but you wouldn't be opposed to new music if she was any good.

You pressed the corners of the poster against the wall and moved out the way. Regina thought for a few seconds before asking you if it was possible to 'pretty please' move the right side up like a quarter of an inch.

You did your best to gauge a quarter of an inch, and your best was thankfully good enough because Regina was satisfied with your efforts pretty fast.

She reached her empty hand up to help you off the chair and you hesitated at first, but took it. She stiffened her arm and gave you a firm platform to put your weight so you had support when hopping down.

Did part of you kind of expect her to let you fall? A little yeah.

"So, what are my chances of getting you to build something for me, too?" She asked sweetly while she handed you back your drink and you took a sip, your dry throat feeling relieved already.

"It depends what it is."

"It's a stupid metal shelf thing." She stepped aside and over the metal parts scattered across her floor.

There was an attempt made, so you at least know she tried before asking.

"Yeah, that looks easy to me. Do you have the instructions?" You handed your drink back to her and kneeled on the floor, rifling through all the pieces.

She set your drink down on the desk and handed you the instructions, sitting down on the floor next to you with her legs crossed.

This shelf wasn't too difficult to build, but it was definitely frustrating. The pieces were in the right spot but they just weren't fitting. Regina complained about how her parents bought her such cheap stuff and didn't even stick around to help her build it. It wasn't like they had a long drive home ahead of them.

She kept apologizing for asking you to help her with stuff or for the shelf being too difficult. She said many times that if you couldn't get it she would just throw the shelf away and not to worry about it if it didn't work out.

You reassured her that it was really okay and you were happy to help. That there was no need to throw out a perfectly good shelf. After a few pinches to your skin, a few scrapes from jagged edges, and a lot of swearing later, you managed to get it built for her.

You didn't expect her to be as involved as she was. She was handing you pieces, going over the directions with you.

You stood up and picked up the shelf, turning it up right so it was standing correctly. She stood up after you, eyeing the shelf with her hands on her hips and nodding.

"That looks perfect. Thank you so much, really."

"You're so good, happy I can help." You picked up your now melted lemonade and took a sip, trying not to be visibly upset over the fact it was no longer frozen.

"Did you get that on campus?"

"No, it's a few minutes away. Really close by. You didn't know that, city girl?" You teased and bit back a smile when you noticed the small blush to her cheeks.

"I was going to offer to buy you a new one, but since you want to be mean I'm taking that offer of the table." She crossed her arms with a small pout and the overwhelming urge to kiss it away scared you.

"No, no. I wouldn't accept anyway. It was like halfway gone. No biggie, honestly." There was an awkward pause between the two of you. "Um, was there anything else you needed help with? Or should I go?"

"You can go now." She said in a tone that felt like a war flashback or something. "I'll swing by your room to pick you up at like 8:45."

"Do you still want me to go?" You asked, because honestly her tone was suggesting otherwise.

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't." She defended, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay. I'll see you later then."

---

9:15pm and you were sitting at your desk dressed and feeling stupid. Because of course Regina was still going to very much so still be Regina.

There was a knock at your door and you waited a second before answering it.

When you opened the door, you keep your face neutral and unimpressed. Which was actually extremely difficult to do because Regina looked breathtaking.

"Yeah, I know. I'm late. Also, you look hot." She commented and it immediately made you feel self conscious because you couldn't gauge if it was genuine or not.

You thought you looked good, but Regina had been notorious for giving out fake compliments.

"Thanks."

"So you agree? You think you're hot?"

Jeez, talk about a war flashback.

"I do." You answered without missing a beat, but your insecurities were threatening to crawl their way out of your mouth at any second.

Regina pursed her lips and nodded in approval at your response and you slowly let out the breath you had been holding.

"Let's go then."

---

Regina abandoned you the second you guys got to the mixer. Which you half expected. You quickly realized that this was not an official university organized event, though the 9pm start time should've made that clear ages ago.

Another indicator being that they were at a frat house.

Alcohol was flowing, students from all different grade levels were mingling.

You grabbed a cup of whatever alcoholic beverage was concocted and got to mingling.

You talked with a few people that you found out you would be sharing classes with, which was cool.

After about an hour of mingling and drinking, you found your way to the front porch and parked yourself on their porch swing and just did a bunch of people watching.

A cat with a collar came and sat next to you, purring and nuzzling against you. You had no idea if it belonged to the frat house or if it was a stray that just frequented the area. The collar said her name was Roach which really made you thing she belonged to the frat boys, but an off campus address on the back put those fears to rest.

"You found a cat!" Regina slurred, stepping out of the house loudly. Her heeled boots clicked against the floor of the porch and she slammed the door behind her, completely shutting out the thumping noise of the party.

"Yeah! Well, more so she found me. Her name is Roach."

"Ew." She hiccuped and made her way over to you, sitting next to Roach. She angled her body and rested her head on your shoulder. "I have to tell you something." She slurred again, reaching down to let the cat sniff her hand before petting her between the ears.

"Sure, what's up?"

"I remembered you and I pretended like I didn't." She lifted her head up to look at you. "But you're a sneaky bitch too because you did the same thing." She poked your cheek with her index finger until you turned your head away from it.

"You talked to me first. I wasn't going to bother you." You admitted, getting a little frustrated.

"Why? You didn't want to talk to me?" She asked, sounding almost disappointed?

"I didn't think you'd want me to. Then I thought it would be really embarrassing if I said I remembered you and you introduced yourself to me. So I just didn't say anything."

"I didn't want you to tell anyone about who I was in high school." She rested her head against your shoulder again. "I just wanted to start over."

"I'm not going to say anything." You said quietly, a little disappointed that the only reason she tried befriending you was to do damage control.

"I feel bad about it."

"About what?"

"How I treated people." She sniffled, clearing her nose. "I'm sorry about what I wrote about you."

"It is what it is." You shrugged. "It's not like I hid my sexuality or anything."

"You didn't. It made me jealous."

Your ears perked up at this admission. You didn't know whether or not to press on or drop the subject. Whatever amount of alcohol she drank was giving her loose lips and you aren't actually sure how much of this information she actually wants anyone to know.

"You don't want to talk about this sober?" She shook her head against your shoulder.

"Talking about it sober is hard."

"Your parents not accepting or...?"

"My mom? Maybe. Probably. My dad? Absolutely fucking not." She took your drink from your hand and downed the rest of it.

"We don't have to talk about this anymore." You offered while she was downing your drink.

"I'm gonna get another drink." She began to get up, but you pulled her back down"

"Hey, no. Come on. Just stay here with me and Roach." You motioned to the purring cat between you both. "I don't want to lose track of you or the cat. So just stay."

Regina sighed and leaned back against the back of the porch swing. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at you.

"What if we brought the cat inside with us while I got a drink." She offered, giving you a silly little smirk that made your heart somersault.

"I think it's too loud for her in there." Roach let out small meow. "See, she agrees." You scratched under her chin, trying to ignore the way Regina was staring at you right now.

"You were always so nice to us."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I let Gretchen drive my car one time to get us lunch and she got a flat tire in the school lot and you helped her change it so I wouldn't get mad at her. You talked her out of a panic attack because she was so afraid of me."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." You lied.

"Or when Karen was upset after the Christmas show junior year because I was just so cruel to her about her body count. Which wasn't even high. I saw you bringing her that stupid red and green caramel popcorn that the cafeteria was selling for the show."

"I saw her crying, I thought it would cheer her up."

"You also gave me ice when they dropped me on my face and you tried taking care of me."

"I was working backstage and nobody else wanted to help you. Though, I do recall being called a shitty name or two when I did that." You teased.

"I know. I'm sorry. Like really fucking sorry. I was just...projecting."

"I know." You reassured.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, watching people come in and out of the house. Regina adjusted next to you and you put a protective had on Roach and scooted her closer so Regina had more space to move.

You could feel her staring at you. It made you anxious because who knows what she was thinking about.

Regina shifted again and before you can even register her movements, her lips were pressed softly against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"I always thought you were so hot." She mumbled against your skin, her tongue poking out slightly to taste you and her right hand coming up to cup your neck.

You froze for a few seconds, getting lost in the sensation of her lips on your skin, before your rational thoughts kicked in.

"Regina." You said calmly, pulling her hand on your neck. "You're drunk." You laced your fingers with hers and rested your joined hands on your lap.

You watched her stare at your hands, fully expecting her to go off on you or to say something cruel in her drunken state.

Instead, she swiped her thumb over your knuckles and hummed a small approval to herself.

Then a cluster of rowdy frat boys came fumbling out of the house and she let go of your hand faster than anything you had ever witnessed before.

She wiped her hands on her pants and stood up with such ease that it made you question if she was ever even that drunk to begin with.

"I'm gonna get another drink. I'll find you when I'm ready to go."

[kanmom51]

Jikook in bed - Part 3

Are you sure?! Episodes 4 and 5

Before we get started, a little reminder of parts 1 & 2.

Let me start by saying that the occurrences in this post directly follow the whole ramen convo saga.

After speaking ramen and showering (notice how I haven't added the word "separately" there?🤣 ), and spending some time together downstairs all cozy and everything, they both decide to go to bed.

Let's talk about the pre-sleep coziness for a sec before moving on.

Watching the SNTY choreo and talking about it. JM loving the choreo.

Nothing new here folks.

We also got to learn, once again, just how 'informed' they are of each other's business. That's a nice way of saying they know shit about each other even if we don't tell us they do. Like, JM knowing that JK hasn't slept since NY, including on the flight. And if we're on the sleep talk already then funny how JK didn't know his 'husband' 'is struggling with sleeping lately.

And then, as we got to learn throughout the show, the two, once again, make a joint decision to go to bed.

Enough of that.

Let's get to the juicy part of this post, why don't we?

We start it off the two entangled.

JK has zero issue with JM's feet basically in his face.

Well, he did say JM's toes are cute, so...

Do we notice how JK goes for JM's ankle?

Now holding on to JM's foot with both hands (his mobile in his left hand).

And then letting go.

Reminded me of this moment.

And this one too.

JM going for the hug and JK pulling his hand in.

And they stay like that.

We don't know for just how long.

Discussing sleeping together.

It's not about "are you sleeping with me here?" or "where are you sleeping?"

It's "don't hit my nose today... if you do I'll hit you too..."

No questions asked.

Just facts!!!

How long were they just laying like that, calm, intertwined, BEING?

And they clearly do fall asleep together both laying over the covers.

The editors making sure to let us know that the two were sleeping on that one bed.

That angle of the lone empty third bed. Was it really necessary?

But you'll say: JK moved at some point to the third bed. Yes he did. And why? He already fell asleep on the bed with JM.

There is a purposeful omitting of JK waking up and moving to the third bed. They cameras were rolling, and they clearly could have shown us what happened. Makes you wonder why they didn't show us.

My uneducated guess would be that he moved to the bed on the floor because he was cold at night, and didn't want to wake up JM (they fell asleep over the covers and getting under the cover might have woken JM up). We do see JK covered in the morning. A guess, no more.

That was night 1 of Jeju.

Night 2 is a little different. This time they automatically split into 2 beds. Question I ask is why? Were they told to? Did they think it was better that way?

Either way, we see how JK insists on taking the bed on the floor.

And no, that flimsy excuse of preferring the less soft bed doesn't stand with me. I'm going to go with JK not wanting JM to sleep on the floor. Where Tae was supposed to be sleeping, btw. Funny how that worked out...

And yes, they didn't share a bed for the night, but JM sure couldn't go without his morning cuddles.

Understandable.

Notice how we never see JM getting up? We have zero idea just how much time they lay on JK like that cuddling him. Sob sob. I'm going to go with it not being short lived, which is why they cut the footage.

Ok, so that basically wraps up the 4 nights. 2 in CT (the actual night they spent together in bed the whole night we got zero footage of) and 2 in Jeju.

But how can I end this post without JM's wake up alarm for JK? Waking up is still about bed, right?

When I first saw this I didn't get what was going on... and why JM thought it was so funny.

Well, until I saw this.

Those two...

🤣🤣

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

The hyperfixation demons are screeching at me to write a comprehensive list of all the reasons I like Fukutora, so today I present to you "Ant ignores their responsibilites and spends several paragraphs explaining why Fukutora is peak despite them having roughly 10 seconds of shared screen time"

1. Contrasting Personalities In general their personalities fit together really well— Fukunaga barely speaks while Tora exclusively shouts at max volume and can't stfu to save his life, Tora's overly-intense and takes everything way too seriously while Fukunaga's cracking jokes in the middle of important games, they're even literal opposites on the court as the two wing spikers. Their differences compliment each other perfectly and because of that I think they'd grow a lot being together, Fukunaga would learn to open up and Tora would mellow out. Another good contrast is how Tora's all about looking cool and standing out while Fukunaga tends to blend into the background, which leads into my next point...

2. MY ROMAN EMPIRE (aka chapter 309) I know it's only two pages out of a 33 chapter match but i dont care, this scene makes me feral. I read the manga after watching Dumpster Battle, so imagine my suprise when my two favorite losers had a moment THAT GOT CUT FROM THE FUCJIGN MOVIE (I'm still salty, it should've been a full season).

Anyways these pages rooted their way into my brain because they show that even though Fukunaga goes unnoticed by most people (both in-universe and by readers) Tora realizes how great he is, and not only respects his play style but views him as a rival on the same level as himself. One thing I appreciate about Tora is that despite him being the stereotypical "strong manly athlete" type he doesn't think his methods are the best or only way of doing things; Fukunaga scoring points without "big fanfare" is just as cool as the shit he and Tanaka pull off. The phrasing "that I hafta surpass" could even imply that Tora sees Fukunaga as more than an equal, as someone who's ahead of him since he doesn't need to be flashy or loud to do amazing stuff.

Look at his smile on page two, bro's just excited to have someone who motivates him to keep pushing himself. And as we've learned from Kagehina: what's gayer than a rivalry?? All in all I think it's sweet that Tora notcies his efforts and admires him when few others do. Side Note, I've seen a translation of these that call them "Nekoma's Wings" and I think that's a sick nickname.

3. Bi Tora and Internalized Homophobia I love a good internalized homophobia arc, and characters like Tora that center so much around girls and manliness are some of the most fun to explore them with imo. You could say he's one of the least likely characters in hq to be queer since he's THE woman-lover next to Tanaka and Noya (and Yachi) but that's what makes it interesting—his gay awakening would hit like a tsunami and send him into life-ruining bi panic for months, especially since he's already such a mess when it comes to romance. He gives me the vibes of someone who has no problem with other people being gay but struggles when it comes to himself since it clashes with his conception of what it means to "be a man" or whatever. My point is he'd have the most intense no homo phase to grace this earth and I think that's both super funny and compelling for his character.

Also as a bi person myself it's kind of frustrating how bisexuality is treated online sometimes. It's annoying when a person's queerness is negated the moment they show attraction for the opposite gender, so headcanoning a character like Tora as a bi while still being openly into women makes me happy.

4. The Stage Play They're so silly in the stageplay. Why is he dragging him around by the feet? Why are they screaming at Kenma? Why is he constantly bopping him on the head in the background? WHY IS HE SERVING FACE IN THE PROMO PICTURES? So silly.

(Ignore how blurry these are lol) 5. Ant's Little Sister Bias This is a me thing, I like ships where one party has an annoying little sister who bothers them, sue me. Its cute. Akane and Fukunaga could have the most adorable friendship if you believe.

6. They Match Each Others Energy My first post about them was me rambling about this so just read that, TDLR they're both energetic menaces who match each other's freak.

7. Kenma's Forced Third-Wheel Purgatory Putting Kenma in a situation where Kuroo's graduated and his closest remaining friends are dating and constantly forcing him to third-wheel is just about the evilest thing you could do to the guy. He may be one of my favorites but this is well-deserved punishment for his crimes.

8. Baffled x Baffling Another ship dynamic I like a lot is when one person is unabashedly weird and the other thinks they're a total freak... but likes them anyways. They don't know why they like them. They can't explain it to anyone. Whenever the person does more weird shit they're like "why tf do I like you." But even so they're whipped as hell. Anyways Tora barely understands a single thing Fukunaga does and I think that makes for a funny crush to have.

9. Fukunaga's "Current Concern" Don't have much to add here, it's just proof to me that they hang out idc. Like why are you concerned about what he wants?? Kinda gay dude. Big fan of Fukunaga whispering to him and Tora answering at full volume so other people hear a one-sided conversation.

10. These Fics Before I knew this ship was even a thing I stumbled on these fics while browsing the Fukunaga tag, that's what got the gears turning:

• My favorite one, third-year shenanigans • Peak, need to be signed in tho • College AU • This one is mostly gen Fukunaga but the few moments they have are perfect (also really fun Nekoma interactions overall)

11. Other Miscellaneous Thoughts • Both of them being public figures/lowkey famous in timeskip is cute, like imagine them being each others' biggest fan before they make it big.

• Chef x guy who eats a lot is peak fiction. In this case they both eat a lot. Their grocery bill is a horror story.

• I know it's because characters are usually grouped by year and Kenma ditches them to sit with Kuroo but they're always together in the stands, pretty gay if you ask me

• I hc Fukunaga as genderfluid so Tora still gets his chance to be a wife guy. Him and Tanaka ranting to each other while Kiyoko and Fukunaga drink tea in peaceful silence.

• I think Fukunaga's the type to enjoy people watching and Tora's always doing something dumb. Observing him like a little bug under a microscope

• They're both so silly looking, cartoony ahh designs. I just think they'd make a funny couple visually, they're so square and stick to me if that makes any sense lmaoo

If you got through this whole post you're a real one, thanks for reading to my brain dump. I think about them every day and need more people to understand the vision

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 18

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

M!troll x f!reader

1.4 k words

Zen was not exaggerating when he said he had no tolerance for alcohol, though at least his first instinct is to cuddle.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

————

Zen stumbled as he stood up, nearly falling over and you rushed over to help him, not that you could do much, if he fell over he would just bring both of you down. His face was flushed much more purple than before, apparently it was not that he was not drunk earlier, it was that the wine had not hit him quite yet.

Quickly you did your best to get him to sit on the bed, which ended up being surprisingly easy. The moment you grabbed his hand he was smiling at you and happily following you over to sit without complaint.

“Stay here” you told him firmly as you got up to go get some washcloths to clean up.

He tried to get up, but a stern look from you quickly dissuaded him.

You took your time in the bathroom cleaning yourself up, it may have been the messiest head you had ever gotten in your life but it was also definitely the best. They way his purring pleasantly buzzed through you, the way his tongue filled you so nicely, the way he looked up at you with that soft, adoring expression.

When you returned you into the main room you found Zen with his shirt stuck on his head, his tusks in the way as he struggled to take it off, his pants already kicked off into a heap on the floor.

“Zen? What are you doing?” you asked.

“You are naked” he slurred a bit.

“I am, but that doesn’t mean you have to be too”.

He either did not hear you, or did not care and instead continued to struggle with his shirt. His tusks were caught on the collar of it as he tried him vain to yank it off at the wrong angle.

With a sigh you helped him get his shirt off and he flopped back onto the bed looking satisfied with himself. He reached out his arms to beckon you over and you sat next to him trying to wipe off his face though he seemed more interested in trying to pull your forehead down to his.

There was only so annoyed you could be with him as he made cleaning him off difficult. He squirmed and fidgeting while trying to pull you on top of him, trying desperately to cuddle you, eventually ending with you straddling his chest but at least you could wipe his face.

You leaned down to speak softly in his ear, figuring you had a way to get him to listen, “Be a good boy for me, ok?”

He whined and squirmed under you, but otherwise held still while you finished cleaning off his face all while looking up at you with such a soft expression. You tossed the washcloth aside and collapsed onto his chest, tired and your legs sore from your knees being locked the whole time, but utterly content.

Zen was purring loudly, making your whole body shake from the vibrations. You felt the roll of his hips against you, though you were too high up on his chest for him to actually grind against you. Still, you pulled your legs together and let him lazily thrust between your thighs.

“I want you” he muttered into the top of your head.

“You’re drunk, and you look like you’re about to fall asleep anyways. Another time”.

He settled for thrusting between your legs instead, not that you honestly minded, you figured he would probably fall asleep soon anyways. You loved the sounds he made at any rate, his soft moans through his purring, the way his breath hitched, he was so vocal.

Time dragged on and he did not show any signs of stopping. The movement was uncomfortably rubbing your still raw clit and was becoming near painful again.

You rolled off of him, causing him to sadly whine at you, though you did not give him much time to complain. Laying nestled against his side you reached down to stroke him, smiling to yourself as he immediately bucked into your hand and let out a moan.

“Your hands are soft” he sighed, “and small, and feel a lot better than mine”.

You could not help but smirk, sober Zen would probably not like how drunk Zen was babbling, if he even remembered it later.

“I like your lips too, the kissing is nice, even if the tongue is weird” he trailed off.

“You didn’t mind the tongue when I was blowing you” you teased.

“I do not like that, that is a bad name for it, but it felt good”.

You kissed along the side of his chest, enjoying how his purring felt against your lips.

“I liked when you swallowed it too, I do not know why, but it was very attractive” he continued.

“Most people like it, that’s normal”.

“Oh good” he sighed.

He was barely half awake, but let out a loud whine when you stopped, thinking you could get away with stopping stroking him without him noticing. It was not that you minded helping him out as much as you were just tired. You shifted you head up a bit higher on his chest so you could look down a bit easier, watching how small your hand looked around him, the variation in his skin tone from base to tip, being able to not just feel but also see the was his cock twitched.

You decided to toy with him a bit, moving your hand up to instead play with tip between your fingers, feeling the slick beads of pre cum as you circled your fingers around him. His sounds changed, his sighs moans becoming whimpers and whines, rolling his hips up into your hand, desperate for more contact.

You dragged it out for a while, ignoring his obvious attempts to get you to do more until he finally grabbed your hand and firmly guided it back around his base. Keeping his hand over yours while he set the speed and pressure, only removing it once he seemed sure you would continue on your own.

It was not much of a show of dominance, but there was something charming about him leading for a brief moment. You continued at the pace he set, his sounds becoming louder as he got closer until with a particularly firm jerk of his hips he finally got his release. At this angle his cum sprayed along his chest and abdomen, not that he seemed bothered at all by it though you now wished that you had not tossed the washcloth from earlier aside on the floor.

You attempted to get up, hoping that now at least he would be tired enough to just let you wipe him down. Unfortunately that was not the case.

The moment he felt you move he pulled you onto his chest, the side of your cheek smearing into the cum that was splattered there.

“Zen, come on” you whined at him, trying in vain to separate yourself from him, not particularly wanting to sleep covered in cum.

Zen however seemed to have no intent on letting you go. He was happily nuzzling the top of your head and purring, just hugging on to you harder whenever you tried to get up, either blissfully unaware or uncaring of the mess. You felt him thrusting up between your thighs again still semi hard, reaching down with one hand in an attempt to press your thighs closer together around himself.

You sighed, it would not be the end of the world to fall asleep like this. Absentmindedly you nuzzled his chest out of habit and immediately regretted it, feeling the cum smear more across your face.

“Can you roll over?” you asked him.

He grunted into the top of your head, but complied at least. Now on your side facing him you slowly began to shimmy and wiggle until you managed to roll onto your other side and put your back to him. You Lifted your thigh up and let him nestle himself between them once more, this time he was sliding between your folds, the bit of remaining wetness making it easy for him.

You reached down to play with his tip as it poked out from between your legs and felt the way his whole body shook as you touched him.

Both of you were too tired to do any more than this, but it was sort of nice in an odd way to fall asleep with him like this.

Part 19

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Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 5 | Hotarubi

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Subaru - Boy Next Door

Subaru’s family moved in next door to yours one summer, much to the excitement of many of the girls at your school. He's always polite about their attention, but gets shy very easily, and is quiet in class. He excels in everything he does, other than socialization. You finally approach him walking home from the bus one day, introducing yourself. He seems startled and a bit nervous when you speak to him, as if expecting you to be like the girls at school who fawn over him, but he relaxes once he realizes you’re just trying to be friendly. You start hanging out with him more, finding him to be just as sweet as he seems and actually quite passionate to match. The girls at school have mixed reactions to your spending time with him. Some are a bit

jealous, some seem disappointed, some congratulate you on being someone who could finally catch his attention. You try to explain that you‘re just friends and eventually the buzz dies down some. As time passes, you start to see him a bit differently. You ignore it, because how could one possibly not feel affection toward such a sweet, gentle boy? Unfortunately those feelings come to a head when one of your classmates asks him to a school dance and, not wanting to upset anyone, he accepts her invitation. You feel sick when he tells you, but you smile and nod and congratulate him. You don’t tell him you weren’t going to go. The night of the dance, he comes back a little after ten, coming over to your house. Your parents let him in and let him go up to your room. You’re surprised to find it was him who knocked on your door; the dance didn’t end until 11, what was he doing back early? Besides, you look a mess, your pajamas on and your eyes a bit puffy from crying over him. He immediately asks what's wrong and ushers you back over to your bed, sitting with you, then reveals that he left the dance early because it ‘didn’t feel right.’

“I missed you tonight, you should’ve been there. Can, can I kiss you?”

Haku - Best Friend's Brother

You grew up alongside your best friend, and her brother Haku. He’s a year or so older than your friend and always friendly with you both, playing with you when you were younger, though he seemed more distant and busy with his own friends the older he got. As you both grew up, you couldn’t deny how exceedingly gorgeous he is, growing out and dying his hair, his lithe frame filling out. He finally had the looks to match the smooth mouth he’d always had. You weren’t aware, but he finds that you’ve grown up well too. When he graduates the year before you and leaves for school, you’re left feeling a little sadder than you expected. You keep tabs on his social media posts, a part of you wishing you were with him. Eventually though, you’re swept up with exams and your own graduation preparations. Before you know it, you’re out of school and Haku’s home for the summer. In almost no time, you somehow find yourself in a somewhat… compromised position with him in your game room while both your families were just upstairs. After all the times you’ve imagined this, though, you can’t really complain.

“I hope you know you’re not just some summer fling to me. With that said, though, please don’t tell my sister? Not yet, at least?”

Zenji - Falling in Love with the Wrong Person

Zenji is a creative, romantic soul, and manages to see the best in everyone. Even when he’s worried, he can find the good in almost any situation. He’s got a heart of gold. That’s where you come in. You think he’s a great guy, and he quickly falls head over heels for you. Unfortunately, love isn’t the only thing a relationship needs to hold it together. You sometimes have trouble understanding Zenji and his interests and his unique ways, and you don’t always find it easy to communicate your own problems with him, despite him trying his best to be a good listener for you. You do try to put in the effort to keep your relationship for a while, but it wears on you. Zenji, on the other hand, tries to stay optimistic. He does everything in his power to patch up the issues between you, refusing to see them simply as differences between the two of you instead of problems that can be fixed. He tries to be everything you want and need, ignoring the emotional strain it’s putting on him. It only makes it harder on you; you can see what he’s doing, and the effect it has on him, but it makes you love him more in an albeit guilty sense. You have a man who’d move mountains for you if he could, but you can’t find it in you to be who he needed. Your love and genuine appreciation for him makes it hurt all the more to end things, but it’s also why you know you can’t just hold onto him like this and watch him tear himself apart anymore.

“I’m not sure I understand, my dear. Is there something I’ve done? Was it something I didn’t do? Please, dearest, I’m certain I can fix this, let me fix us.”

[woniverse-writes]

"Moth to a Flame (part 5)"

Bada Lee x Reader

part 4 ⟵ part 5 ⟶ part 6

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 6k

warnings: swearing, angst, y/n is a little psycho asshole in this chapter, but like- bada.... eeh scary, a lot of plot changes cuz I like playing the victim lol, not proofread, ending was kind of rushed, nothing i write is a reflection of anyone's true character and is a work of total fiction

Shortly after Rie Hata’s message finished playing on the monitors all teams wrapped up their fun and began heading back to the studio to begin preparing for the mega crew mission. They all dry their hair and get changed, reapplying their makeup to prepare for filming again, when the host appears with another message. He congratulates the remaining teams for surviving, and at the mention of Tsubakill’s elimination y/n and the rest of Jam Republic immediately frown. 

Daniel continues to explain the mission and informs them that there will be three different concepts that they have to use, but the way they will be decided is by group discussion. On top of that team Bebe has the benefit of going straight for whatever concept they want without discussion. The three creative prompts consisted of ‘outdoor’, ‘structure’, and ‘all gender’. 

“Ooh we could definitely do something sick with structures” Audrey perked up and her partner-in-crime nodded in agreement before speaking

“Yeah but honestly I think we could do well with any of these…” y/n countered smirking cockily prompting Emma to hum and hold out her hand for a high five.

“I personally feel like we should go for outdoors. I already have so many ideas for what we could do and I know some of you do too…” the leader chimed in, eyeing Ling and Y/n at the mention of other members having ideas. They decide to have their three creative directors be Kirsten, Ling, and Y/n and the three begin coming up with their own separate ideas, with the help of another member. 

When the crew came back together after a few moments of planning and creative briefing, they all shared their ideas. Kirsten came up with the idea of showcasing the beauty of New Zealand since it was most of their crew’s homeland- she wanted to shoot on the beach and have the rocks behind them. Ling’s idea was to take more of an approach that would appeal to their Korean audience, by incorporating more K-pop dance styles and music and shooting in the heart of the city with all the lights in the back. Everyone really liked both ideas, but y/n’s quickly became their favorite when she explained it.

“Okay so this might be too much, and could easily get muddled- but what if we did a sports theme? Like- we each represent a different sport or activity while also representing our culture or background… each of us could get a highlight and we’d all have our “teams” that would dance in our own styles- then we’d all come together in the end as a sort of pep-rally type thing…” y/n finished off the basic ideas of her take, and everyone immediately either nodded or clapped, thoroughly impressed with how quickly she had come up with such an elaborate idea.

“And this is exactly why you’re here girlfriend- forever a genius…” the leader nodded and smiled at her youngest, clapping her hands slowly and appreciatively. It was an idea that could work with all three concepts so the team decided to mark y/n’s as the top choice as of right now.

When all the teams gathered to pick their concept Jam Republic and Bebe were the only groups that chose something other than ‘structure’, Jam Republic sticking to their outdoor idea and Bebe going with the all gender category. After the pink team explained why they picked what they did, it caused Deep n Dap to change their pick to outdoor as well, saying it was because they felt their crew could easily rival Jam Republic, which caused Kirsten to maturely and professionally nod, while y/n covered her mouth and snickered.

After Jam Republic has guaranteed themselves a spot in the outdoor concept, they head back to their team hideout and begin to plan out their ideas in full. Y/n already begins to map out choreography for her and Ling’s sections, while Emma does the same for herself and Audrey, leaving Kirsten and Latrice to pair up. The girls decided to head back to New Zealand and take advantage of the scenery as part of the expression of their members’ culture. It was a nice blend of y/n and Kirsten’s concepts. 

______

Y/n and Bada hadn’t really talked much since they began preparing for the Mega Crew mission, both focusing on their team’s success. Although they still texted daily, sometimes it was only a quick good morning or goodnight, while other times they had fuller conversations.

‘Have a safe flight, text me when you land plz!’ y/n read the message right before she got on the plane. She felt her heart swell at the little gesture of care, hearting the message and replying with a selfie of her in the airport paired with the words ‘thank you lovey, I will <3’.

Jam Republic boarded their plane and took off from South Korea to New Zealand, with many plans already going wrong as soon as the plane was in the air. You see, they had just been informed of how bad the weather was in the area, then about how many of the dancers they called for wouldn’t be able to make it. Each member was responsible for contacting and securing 10 members to come dance with them, explaining how the show would be paying for their trip and all the dancers had to do was show up and give it their best. It started off really well, with each of them actually coming back with more than 10 dancers. Then the weather hit. Flights were canceled or delayed to the point where people wouldn’t make it in enough time to learn the dance. On top of that, their idea to shoot at the beach was totally scrapped due to the intense winds. With the major setbacks of losing over half their dancers and not being able to use their original scene, the girls had to redo choreography and practically start the whole project over.

“This can’t be happening…” y/n was the first to start spiraling, ever the drama queen- but this time it was very justified. All six members of the crew stood in a circle in the middle of the studio floor, eyes flitting back and forth between each other and their leader, who was staring at the floor deep in thought. Kirsten let out a huge sigh and crossed her arms tensely.

“I’m sorry girls… but I really don’t know what we’re gonna do…” the leader ran her hands down her face and let out another deep breath, turning away for a moment with her hands on her hips. At that moment, the youngest realized how serious the situation really was, seeing as her leader wasn’t presenting her usual calm self. Typically when there was an issue, Kirsten was calm, cool, and collected- even if it seemed unsolvable… she always had an answer no matter what.

y/n being the perfectionist she is, began racking her brain for any possible solutions, already feeling her lungs begin to collapse at the possibility of complete failure. On top of being a perfectionist, the young girl also had a pretty bad case of savior complex, feeling like she had to fix everyone’s problems, especially when there was no one else who could- even if she knew that she herself probably wouldn’t be able to fix it either (at least not without bending over backward and bleeding herself dry). 

“No… no we can easily fix this-” all eyes went to the youngest member who ran off to grab all their notebooks and bring them back over to where the crew still stood. She spread them out, riffling through the pages until she found ideas they could use. 

“We can still use the stadium… it won’t be as grand of a scale as we wanted, but that can still work. And- and we can make it related to New Zealand instead of all of our different backgrounds, so it’s easier to put together and less choreography to make up… we can fix this!” y/n was frantically and hopefully (delusionally) explaining her ideas, trying as hard as she could to bring the team’s morale back up. They sat down in their circle and began connecting the ideas, just hoping for the best at this point

Even though the Jam Republic girls were frustrated, they only let it fuel their will to work even harder. It crushed y/n a little to have to scrap her idea, knowing it would’ve brought them an easy win, but she was determined to make their new routine strong. The team had ultimately decided to keep the athletic theme but changed it quite a bit to highlight rugby which was a big part of New Zealand culture. The girls planned on dancing in the bleachers and on the field to portray a Friday night lights feel, or a game- since it technically was still a competition between them and deep n dap.

A few days go by and it isn’t getting any easier for Jam Republic. As much as they try to stay positive, the insane lack of dancers makes it hard to achieve the impact they’re going for. Y/n kept saying how they needed to keep trying to find more dancers, but Kirsten just wanted to focus on perfecting the routine with what they had. The young girl also kept mentioning little ideas and elements to add in order to amplify the concept they were going for, but again the leader was more focused on solidifying the present piece. Y/n ended up getting so frustrated that she would just randomly start tearing up and crying during their breaks, not allowing herself to stop for more than 30 seconds, grabbing a quick sip of water, and then immediately going back to practicing. She thought that maybe if she gave it her all, she wouldn’t be as disappointed in herself when she wasn’t satisfied with the outcome. 

Of course, all of the girls were on edge but they at least were able to put it aside at some moments, still being able to enjoy parts of the process. y/n tried her best not to let her teammates see how anxious and worked up she was, but the girl was so overwhelmed with fear of failure that it would be impossible for anyone not to see it. Which is why it made everything so much worse for her when she continued to go through the rest of the preparation without a single person asking what was wrong. Y/n understood- really, she did. Everyone needed to focus on the end goal, and that meant there wasn’t time to deal with her feelings.

Bada was beginning to worry, seeing as the last response she had gotten from y/n was days ago. The girl had landed her flight and texted the Bebe leader immediately, letting her know she was safe, but also explaining the problems that had already arisen. They talked briefly about how the pink team was likely going to have to restart everything if the weather didn’t ease up. Then a couple of days later, they talked on the phone about the complete concept change and reboot of their whole routine. Y/n tried to keep her stress to a minimum, not wanting to be a burden to the other girl who was also beginning to get stressed. 

It had been many days since then, and she’d texted the younger girl three separate times as well as tried calling her twice. Bada finally got a response the day before Jam Republic would be flying back to Korea for the midterm mission check, where they as well as the other teams would be reviewing each other’s practice videos of the choreography. It had been a somewhat longer text message reading ‘hi. I’m really sorry for not responding at all for the last few days. I know you’re probably just as stressed as i am, so I’m sorry for not being able to be there. Things haven’t been going good over here and I’m honestly really scared to present what we have… but I’m sure everything will be fine haha. How have you been?’

Bada felt her heart clench at the girl’s words, understanding why she wasn’t responding but still feeling a bit upset nonetheless. It hurt her to see y/n try to brush off her stress and redirect her attention so it would focus on caring for others instead of caring for herself.

Jam Republic arrives back in South Korea and heads straight to the studio to film their reactions and judgments of the other teams. They immediately make their way to their pink hideout passing by other crews, but not having time to mingle or really do anything more than smile and wave. The girls were exhausted from the flight, jetlag, and overworking themselves. y/n didn’t even realize team Bebe wasn’t with the rest of the crews when they passed through the lobby.

Bebe sat in their room, feeling more anxious than usual, a bad vibe floating through the air. No one could quite put their finger on it, but something definitely wasn’t right and it was causing all of the members to feel its effects. It officially came time for all crews to review each dance practice video. Each team’s video played one by one and the members had time to fill out the review cards before moving on to the next. 

Bebe’s video played next and the reactions were not positive, to say the least. Everyone seemed disappointed by the piece as a whole, expecting something much bigger- the music was too big of a risk, the props were poorly utilized, and it was overall just too simple. It wasn’t a bad video- it just didn’t meet anyone’s expectations since they were all waiting for some elaborate project, knowing Bada was very capable of doing so. Shortly after, a similar reaction was felt while everyone watched the Jam Republic video.

“They don’t have enough people…” Mina Myoung was the first to observe the team’s lack of crew members. They even paused the video to count how many were shown, seeing 28, which was under the minimum limit of 30 people.

“It honestly isn’t powerful enough… it’s just not impressive” Buckey commented, crossing her arms over her chest. Yoonji sighed and frowned.

“This is so sad… I was really rooting for them” The girl mumbled, genuinely feeling pity for the international team, hoping they’d be able to pull through.

When it came down to voting for the team that should be eliminated, Jam Republic ultimately chose Bebe. They were originally tied between voting for Bebe and Wolf'lo, with y/n fighting her best fight to vote for Wolf'lo because it just didn't look entertaining to her and they had no story or plot.

"y/n…" Kirsten started off in a warning but gentle tone

"We can’t just not pick Bebe because of you and Bada… this is a competition babe." and y/n was kinda hurt by that because she knows how to be objective and she didn't even think she was biasing Bebe- she just personally didn't like Wolf'lo and thought they should be eliminated over any other team.

Then it finally came down to the results. Each team would be given a scorecard showing the comments and feedback they’d received from the others. One card would reveal the team voted as most likely to place first, and another would reveal who was most likely to be eliminated. When Jam Republic opens their card, it felt like all of the air suddenly got sucked out of the room. 

“God DAMN” Audrey laughed humorlessly in absolute shock, as they all stared at the words ‘MOST AT RISK FOR ELIMINATION’ in big bold letters at the top. y/n stopped breathing for a few seconds and she’s pretty sure everyone else did too, seeing as there was not a single sound to be heard in the dressing room. The young girl once again tried to convince herself to think rationally, but couldn’t get past the anxiety and crushing weight of failure that was starting to fill her lungs. She wasn’t even angry, even though she should’ve been because she understood. y/n understood that they didn’t meet the criteria, and their dance simply wasn’t as put together as it should've been, especially in comparison to other teams/

What really got her emotional was realizing that Bebe- that BADA- voted for them too… it felt like such betrayal and she wore that shit on her face like usual. But still- she didn't feel angry, just betrayed and heartbroken, and really fucking disappointed. The more mature and logical side of y/n was still trying not to jump to conclusions because maybe it wasn’t Bada that decided… Maybe it was the same situation her team had going on- maybe Bada didn’t want to vote for Jam Republic but the majority of others did. Y/n truly did understand everyone’s reasoning, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, especially having Bada vote to eliminate her as well

“It’s gonna be okay lovey… I promise” Kirsten wrapped her arm around the youngest’s shoulders and whispered reassuringly to her as she watched her begin to have a mental breakdown. Moments later, the rest of the crew’s ranking was revealed, showing 1 Million in first and Jam Republic in last, but also- Bebe in sixth, the second to last place. Seeing this, Bada sighed and began to have her own slight mental breakdown.

Some teams celebrated their rankings while others sat quietly, reviewing the feedback and pondering what to do. Jam Republic sat in silence as Kirsten read over the comments. Y/n sat by her side with her head in her hands sobbing silently, so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to do. The entire team was at a loss, and soon Kirsten started crying too, wrapping and arm around the youngest members, who finally let her emotions be shown to her team. The loud cries were the only sound in the room.

Y/n was able to calm herself down after about 20 minutes of crying. The poor girl felt so awful about how things were going feeling responsible for a lot of it- thinking that maybe if she had pushed her ideas a little more, or gotten in contact with more people, or even just tried a little harder, maybe Jam Republic could’ve done so much better. Even though she’s calmed down, tears still flow down her face without her even realizing it. Y/n was never angry at anyone else for their opinions, but now she’s feeling awfully spiteful towards herself. The youngest member was filled with so much resentment and self-hatred, that it immediately sent her into an inescapable depression.

The show writers and staff were cruel. So cruel for making these girls show off their inspiration boards and creative briefs live in front of the other teams. Each team explains their given concept and how they came up with the details to highlight what they chose. While it was much more of a relaxed environment (in the sense that there would be no feedback or ranking based on this), a majority of contestants were nowhere near feeling at ease. 

The members of Jam Republic were able to build themselves back up and put on their game faces while presenting, except for y/n. She really did try her best to not look like she was about to cry at the drop of a hat, but it was no use. The girl was simply not herself. The small girl’s usually bright and energetic personality was nowhere to be found, not once cracking even a hint of a smile- even when Jam Republic received immense praise for their ideas. She didn’t find any enjoyment in the other crew’s presentations, although to be fair she wasn’t really able to focus on them- she just sat there in a daze.

It made everyone nervous to see Jam Republic’s youngest member like this. Her members noticed that she had become even more irritable than before- but now in a scary way that genuinely had them concerned for themselves and everyone else. The girl was calm but you could just feel the rage and depression and resentment radiating off of her to the point it made chills run down your spine.

_________

After every crew had shared their ideas and idea boards, they were allowed to go back to head back to their hideouts to discuss any adjustments or further plans that had to be made before returning to their projects. Jam Republic had to get right back on a plane in a few hours to head back to New Zealand and somehow fix their entire routine, again.

Y/n just finished walking up the staircase leading from the fight zone to the crew lounges, when she heard someone call out her name from closely behind her. The girl turned around to come face to face with the tall leader she had been talking with for the last few months.

“Hey, are you okay? I called your name like three times…” Bada questioned worriedly, her eyebrows furrowed and head tilted as she waited for the younger girl’s response, with wide caring eyes.

“...I'm just really tired” y/n whispered in the meekest voice possible, already feeling her eyes start to sting again, but trying to cover it up with a smile. Bada sighs and pulls her into a big hug, and surprisingly y/n doesn’t burst into tears. The girl continues to try as hard as possible to keep the droplets from escaping her eyes as she squeezes them shut.

“Look… I’m really sorry” the older of the two began resting her head atop y/n’s, but the shorter one felt her body tense at the apology already not liking where the conversation was headed. y/n let go of Bada’s waist and backed away, waiting for the older girl to continue.

“It wasn’t personal… the dance was still very good, and it’ll look even better with all of the ideas planned out!” she finished, referring to how her team had voted Jam Republic as the worst crew. Y/n’s face lost any emotion she had regained, looking empty and exhausted again, making Bada’s skin prickle.

“no, I understand” was all y/n spoke, already trying to disconnect from reality to save herself from crying again or making a bigger fool out of herself than she already has. But Bada is only more upset by the reaction, seeing as y/n just doesn’t seem at all like herself. The girl genuinely looks empty inside and no one on the show has ever seen her like this, in fact- no one in Jam Republic has even seen her like this and they’re all beginning to become extremely worried about her. And even though it’s clear the small girl just needs time and space, Bada decides to keep talking 

“The vote was objective I promise, I don’t want you to think anything personally of it” At the end of the older girl’s sentence, y/n just felt the tiniest bit of a scowl make its way onto her face, feeling pissed off at the thought of someone once again thinking she doesn’t understand the concept of a competition.

“Obviously- I’m not stupid, this is a competition.” the harsh tone that comes out of the younger really throws Bada for a loop because she has never seen y/n speak to or about anyone like this- and it makes her feel sick to her stomach that her first time witnessing it is directed at her.

“I- no, what? Of course you’re not stupid! I just wanted to make sure… to make sure you knew. That’s all.” Bada started off a bit panicked and emotional but quickly was able to calm down and speak rationally, understanding the younger girl was known to have a bit of a temper. There was a long silent pause.

"did you decide on Jam Republic?" y/n asked a bit accusatorily

"Huh?" the older tilted her head, still absolutely confused about how this situation was occurring right now.

"did YOU, as in yourself, Bada Lee, decide to vote Jam Republic as the team to be eliminated, or was it someone else's idea…" There was silence for a moment before Bada sighed then pursed her lips

"We all decided-" 

"but who's idea was it? Did you even argue it? Were you even thinking of anyone else? Or did you just immediately decide and agree that my team should be the next to go?" Bada didn’t say anything as she started to get a little frustrated, but she watched as y/n just scoffed at the lack of response and turned to walk away, rolling her eyes. Bada followed her and pulled her aside, a few feet away from the outside of Bebe's dressing room

"well you voted for my team as the worst, so how is this any fair at all?" the tall leader finally let her emotions take control of her as she shot back with much less frustration than her counterpart, but still irritated nonetheless.

"because I didn't want to vote for you! I fought to vote Wolf'lo over you guys because I know you don't deserve to go home! I understand it from an objective perspective- I promise Bada, I do- but that doesn't make it hurt any less!" There were a few beats of silence before y/n continued

"and it's honestly really infuriating that you don't think I understand that this is a competition-" she finished off quieter than before but still filled with annoyance and betrayal.

"WOAH- now when did I EVER say that??" now it was Bada’s turn to blow up

 "Oh my god- you don't have to say it! You clearly think I'm just here to have fun and make friends!" y/n once again raised her voice, this time rising in pitch as well.

"Why would you say that??" Bada fired back and was immediately met with the calmest tone of voice y/n had spoken in since the argument began, and it terrified her.

"Bada- you haven't seen me as a threat once this entire competition… have you? Not to you, not to your team…" Bada stuttered for a second, completely blindsided by the argument

"where is this all coming from y/n?" the tall girl asked, genuinely concerned. y/n sighed and her eyes softened, shook her head.

"never mind" She turned and went to walk away, but Bada grabbed her by the wrist again and dragged her inside the blue team room, closing the door behind her

"you need to speak to me. You need to communicate with me what's going on right now because whatever you're feeling is totally valid- we had a rough day out there- fuck, we’ve had a rough few days, especially you- but that doesn't mean you get to take it out on me… so please tell what's wrong, so I can try to help." the older girl calmly and gently explained her thoughts and feelings to the girl in front of her, and y/n almost cracked. almost.

“I think it’s best for me to focus on the competition… building relationships clearly isn’t working out to my benefit" Her previously soft and watery eyes, had quickly cleared up within a few seconds, leaving her looking cold and unapproachable again. The response was petty and childish, y/n herself knew that, but she said to hurt Bada. 

why do you want to hurt Bada? She was apologizing, why are you making this harder? You’re being childish and proving everyone right- you’re not fit for this competition, you’re too young y/n and you don’t know how to handle things when you actually need to.

The younger girl’s internal dialogue was emotional and resentful towards herself, but for once, the expression on her face didn’t show how she was truly feeling. The anger and hatred taking over her features wasn’t directed towards the older girl in front of her, which is what anyone witnessing the interaction would assume. y/n could feel her stomach churning and her face getting hot with embarrassment. She didn’t understand why she was acting like this and didn’t know how to get herself to stop.

It felt like hours had passed before Bada spoke again and when she did it was led by an aggressive scoff.

“You can’t be serious right now…” she challenged so calmly that it sent a chill up y/n’s spine, the younger girl’s resolve finally breaking down and it became apparent that she wasn’t actually as tough as she was trying to be. Bada could see the cold glare falter for a split second, watching as her eyes became full of emotion before the younger was able to reel it in again.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious? This is a competition and the only people I should be trusting are my teammates, I shouldn’t be letting my emotions get in the way of things…” y/n responded just as calmly. If anyone else were to be present for the interaction they probably would've froze to death due to how cold the two were being.

“Next time I'll make sure to vote objectively and solely based on what I see in front, instead of trying to think about who deserves to be here more.” she finished with an empty, tight-lipped smile, tilting her head feigning understanding, and Bada let out a humorless chuckle

“God- have you always been this manipulative?” it was her turn to try and hurt the other girl. y/n’s cocky grin dropped immediately and she straightened up entirely.

“Excuse me?” the younger girl furrowed her brows and scowled again

“You heard me…” Bada replied cooly and nonchalantly as if this were any other normal conversation 

“I came to you, apologizing for what I did and your response to that is to start an argument- and THEN when you realize you’re in the wrong, you try to turn it on me?” the older girl finished, voice rising slightly

“I never turned it on you- I said how I needed to focus on the competition and stop being so friendly with everyone, how are you so self-absorbed to think that was about you?” y/n could barely even get her last word out before the other was shouting over her.

“BECAUSE IT WAS- it so obviously was a dig at me y/n, because who else are you close with? Huh??” the volume of Bada’s voice caused the younger girl to flinch, no longer being able to preserve her emotions. The tall girl took a few steps forward and leaned down, getting in y/n’s face.

“Who else can actually stand being around you…” shot after shot fired, Bada was doing a much better job at hurting y/n than y/n was doing hurting Bada. She wasn’t even thinking about how she used to tell herself that she would never be the reason y/n would be crying, and now here she is, feeling satisfied when she sees a single tear run down the girl's face. She wasn’t paying attention to how it sucked all the air out of her lungs and made her stomach turn in disgust, only noticing the minuscule feeling of satisfaction.

“I think it’s so funny how you say that, knowing damn well you get jealous any time someone even looks at me… you know better than anybody that anyone in this fucking place would love to be in your position-” and this caused Bada to let out a loud laugh of disbelief, backing away slightly before getting right back in her face

“Yeah? Then how come nobody even paid attention to you until I took notice… you know that’s the only reason you’re popular, right? If it had been anyone else, no one would’ve cared… admit it to yourself, nobody wants to be in my place y/n- they all wanna be in yours, so maybe think about how lucky you are…” Bada didn’t believe in a single thing that was coming out of her mouth, she honestly couldn’t even believe her own voice hearing how condescending and spiteful the words sounded as they left her lips. She could feel a slight ringing in her ears, part of her brain processing it as a tiny voice screaming at her to stop and that she was making a mistake. But the damage was already done.

Y/n was barely holding back tears anymore, pursing her lips and clenching her jaw did nothing to stop the flow of salty droplets from streaming down her face. Her nostrils flared slightly as she swallowed down sobs and tightly closed her eyes.

“I’m not having this conversation anymore…” she managed to get the words out without sounding horribly choked up as she turns away to leave, hand about to turn the knob as the older girl lets out another dry chuckle.

“Oh so now you wanna act mature? Let me tell you this isn’t the mature way to handle the situation anymore- you don’t know how to talk to people or resolve conflict, in fact you’re NOT confrontational at all, and are really just a scared little girl who’s all bark and no bite. You’re such a child- that’s all you are- is a FUCKING child…” it’s dead silent after Bada’s done screaming at her. Y/n turns around slowly and just stands there for a moment with a blank stare, then lets out the most dry, humorless laugh. It honestly scares the shit out of the older girl, eyes going wide and face paling, coming to her senses and realizing how fucked the situation was. 

Y/n was smiling and laughing, albeit a little psychotically, all while still crying- she had finally snapped, and Bada was terrified. The girl in front of her could easily be a danger to herself, and possibly others in the state she was in, but all the leader could think about was how there was probably no coming back from this. The younger of the two just closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them and nodding at Bada with a tight-lipped smile, taking a deep breath.

“Okay” y/n smiles painfully as tears continue to run down her face- she turns around, swings the door open, and slams it shut as she walks out. The silence that followed was broken only seconds later as Bada heard the sobs that were almost immediately released by the girl who had just left.

y/n hadn’t even noticed the rest of Bada’s team standing around the corner, as she walked in the other direction to head back to her own room. Once she was far enough away, Lusher led the group quietly into their space seeing their leader sat on the couch with her head in her hands.

“Hey…” she speaks quietly, and Bada looks up with an empty look in her eyes, but tries to hide it when she realizes her team is present. Before she can even try to pretend nothing happened, the sub-leader was speaking up again

“We heard everything…” Bada sighed and felt tears pricking her eyes, disappointment and heartbreak finally taking over as she realized how fucked up the things she said were. The younger members sat around their leader and rubbed her arm or leg while they all watched with sad eyes as she sobbed. This was going to be a rough next few days.

notes: i'm so sorry...

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[urhoneycombwitch]

On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)

kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE

cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)

canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.

but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.

(see more of my to-be-named world building here)

for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)

he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. 

bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort. 

he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.

and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡

and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.

there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”

and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”

and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”

and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”

and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.

but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real. 

he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all. 

and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.

and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.

he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with. 

and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.

perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.

but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and  lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors. 

in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖

[beybaldes]

And somehow I know that you and I would've found each other

roy kent x gn!reader

word count : 8.7k

masterlist

summary : you and roy always end up finding your way back to each-other

content warning : taylor popped the fuck off with the speak now vault tracks especially timeless (another timeless fic coming out soon!!!!), slow burn that takes place over 36 years - dermatologists hate me! Roy’s sister is dubbed Molly yet again, I steal britanny brett for plot because I’m obsessed with @onceuponaoneshotfanfic and superstar (check it out now if you still haven’t, and if you have already, then reread it!!!!!!)

It's 1991 and youre not old enough to understand why your neighbour, and best friends older brother Roy, has to move away. You're only 4 years old, and so is Molly, and Roy's only 9 - so you're not sure why he's going away, where he's going, or if he's ever going to come back.

All you do know is that you and Molly's little arms are wrapped tightly around each other and you feel like it's never going to be enough to fill the hole of Roy's absence.

It's a cool September morning and Roy knows that December 19th - the day he gets to come back home for Christmas - is exactly 107 days away, but not even the last dregs of summers warmth can make this moment something he's going to look back fondly on.

He's got blankie folded perfectly at the bottom of his backpack and your favourite teddy bear wrapped up in it. Even though he wouldn't discover it until he'd arrived at Sunderland, you knew it was there and that Roy would look after it, and it made everything feel just a little bit better.

When Roy's Grandad announces that it's time to go, he gives you and Molly one last hug, pressing a kiss to both of your heads and promising to write and call whenever he can. You and Molly chase the car until the end of the street, where it turns a corner and Molly's mum calls you back to the house; you linger long enough to watch Roy turn from one of your best friends into a blurry figure in the back of a car.

Ms Kent gives you and Molly ice lolly's from the freezer and puts on 'Cinderella' while you eat them. She then sits through 'Sleeping Beauty,’ ‘The Little Mermaid', and 'Beauty and the Beast' with the two of you until your tears have long since stopped and you've fallen asleep in each others arms.

The following morning, Ms Kent nearly has a heart attack when she doesn't find you in Molly's bed, but her worry is soon ended when she realises the door to Roy's room is half opened and you're quietly curled up in tear stained sheets. Slowly, she wakes you up, and when fresh tears spring to your eyes she's quick to pull you into her arms. As she rocks you gently in her hold, she promises you that the prince always returns to the princess; even if it takes breaking a curse or waiting for 100 years.

They always find each-other in the end and live happily ever after.

And 107 days is nothing when you're 4 years old, it's the blink of an eye and sticky melted ice lolly on your hands, it's your first ever school uniform and glitter from Christmas crafts that you cant get off you no matter how many showers you take, and it goes by even quicker when Roy comes home 10 days sooner then expected.

You don't see him for the first 5 days. Roy locked himself away in his room and refused to come out or speak to anyone. But when the sixth day, and the weekend, finally rolls around, you decide to do something about it.

For a 9 year old, Roy sure had a lot to think about. He never got to say goodbye to his grandad, and he wasn't going to teach him how to ride a bike, or see him score his first professional goal, or get married, and he didn't know how to explain that when he went back to Sunderland come new year, he wasn't going away in the same capacity granddad had.

No 9 year old should've been thinking of all that.

Roy hadn't been expecting any visitors, not that he wanted any, but when you barged your way into his bedroom, he couldn't bring himself to send you away.

"Go away." Roy had growled, hidden beneath blankie and curled tightly into himself. "I want to be alone." Roy hadn't meant a lick of it and you hadn't believed any of it either.

"No, you don't." Though you had to wriggle your little self into his arms, you did it, and beamed proudly against his pyjama clad chest when he let you cuddle up to him. Roy had hugged you tightly, pulling you closer to him and wrapping blankie tightly around you both. "I missed you, Royo."

"You packed Dave in my bag." Roy stated, not asking why, or whether you wanted the teddy bear back, or telling you that he'd actually left it in Sunderland for when he went back in a few weeks time.

"You need him more then I do." Roy just nodded his head at your words, willing himself not to cry at the guilt he felt over leaving you and Molly behind and thinking about something other then his grandad. "And, if you have Dave, and Dave is mine, then you have to come and give him back to me. You have to come back from sundayland."

"Sunderland."

"What's that?" You tilted your head up to look at Roy, and found him already looking at you, half a smile on his lips.

"It's nothing."

Both you and Roy fell asleep in his room, under the safety of blankie, talking about 'sundayland' and everything good about his time there. It wasn't until tea time that his mum found the two of you and dragged you down stairs for dinner, teasing Roy once you'd gone home that you definitely had a little crush on him.

~*~

Roy's transfer to Chelsea once the season is over is announced just before your 16th birthday and you swear it's the best birthday present you've ever gotten. He's newly 21 and he's got this shaggy mullet thing going on that really shouldn't be working for him, but it is. You can't keep your eyes off of him, and Roy pretends not to notice for what he tells himself is your sake. He knows it isn't.

When his car pulls up in the drive for the first time since the weekend he came down for Mollys birthday, you and Molly run out of the house hand in hand to greet him, crying his name. He lets the two of you crash into him and wrap your arms tightly around him, almost squeezing him to death when he finds himself sandwiched between the two of you.

Roy's barely been on home soil for 10 seconds when Molly pulls away from the hug to look up at her big brother with the best puppy dog eyes she can muster up at 16. "Will you buy us drinks to take to leavers?”

"Fuck off, buy your own." You don't unwrap your arms from around Roy while they bicker, quite enjoying the familiarity of the scene before you. It was almost too long ago to fathom the last time Roy had been home long enough to start a fight with Molly, and though you never thought you'd say it, it was really nice to see.

"Incase you lost some brain cells this season, you have to be 18 to buy alcohol, fuckhead." Roy just stared blankly at Molly, and ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm as you stayed curled in his side, thinking about how similar Roy and Molly really are when it comes down to it. "So, I need you to buy it for us."

"Ask mum to buy it for you."

Molly immediately scoffs, throwing her hands in the air and muttering under her breath that she was genuinely concerned that Roy had lost some brain cells from all the headers he'd done this season. "Don't you think I tried that, dumbass? Mum said no to both of us."

Roy's gaze turned to meet yours, surprised to find you already looking at him. "Please Royo, everyone else will be drinking at leavers." Roy could never say no to you, and he was convinced both you and Molly knew that and had concocted this scheme to get him to buy it for you. He didn't mind saying yes, at least not this time, at least not when it was you asking.

Molly ran back into the house with an excited cry, promising to return with all the money she'd owe Roy for the drinks plus some as a charitable donation for his kindness.

For the first time in almost a year, you and Roy where completely alone together. He spared a moment to look at you, really look at you; notice how your hair had gotten longer and that your sense of style had completely changed, that the early summer sun was already tanning your skin and that you still had your arms around him. Roy only tightened his grip on you, dragging you into and around the house with him until you made it to the living room.

His mum had repainted since he'd last been down to visit from Sunderland and there were new photos on the wall behind the settee; mainly of you and Molly on your last day of school and one of Roy at his last match playing for Sunderland.

"You look like a proper footballer now, Royo." Despite every other seat in the living room being free, you took purchase on the arm of the chair right beside Roy and pray no one thinks it's a sign of the bubbling feelings you have for him. You may only be 16 but you're sure you've been in love with Roy for the better part of your life. It's one thing for everyone to tease you about you and Roy having little crushes on each other as kids, it's a whole other thing for people to tease you for having a crush on him when you actually did.

Roy scoffed, taking a long swig from the beer he'd grabbed from the kitchen when he first got to the house, swallowing down his smile. "But not enough for you to stop calling me 'Royo,' apparently."

"You could be the most famous footballer on the planet and I'd still call you Royo." You reached up for his hair and ruffled it, laughing at the way he pulled away from your touch and went to flatten his hair back out almost immediately. "But I mean it, you look like the kind of footballer kids have posters of up on their walls, that they want to be when they grow up."

And you're entirely right. Somewhere up in Manchester, a 6 year old Jamie Tartt is pinning a poster of your Roy up on his wall and promising himself, and his dad, that all of his time and money spent on football practice will one day pay off  - that he's going to be one of the greats, just like Roy Kent.

"You'll always be my Royo, Roy. Even when you're super famous and don't remember me anymore." Your hand had somehow found it's way back into Roy's hair and he couldn't bring himself to move away from your touch. Since his sudden rise to fame, in which it seemed like he'd become an overnight sensation, he couldn't remember when he was last touched so gently. Touching only to touch, not because they wanted something from him or his name.

Roy couldn't keep in the smile that pulled at his lips. It faltered slightly at the fact he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone genuinely, but it quickly returned and warmed his face when he meet your eyes. "And how could I ever forget the likes of you, yeah?"

Somewhere between shared words and glances, his hand had found yours and the two of you couldn't tear your eyes away from the other. "Dinners ready, guys." Molly was well known for her perfect timing, and despite some initial upset at the moment being taken from you, you knew it was for the better. Roy was Molly's brother, your best friends brother, who had 5 years on you yet.  Though you knew it was unlikely anything would ever happen between the two of you, moments like this made you think there was a small possibility something one day would. The thought wasn't one worth seriously entertaining. "Did I... interrupt something?"

"What? No way." You and Molly ran from the room hand in hand, giggles bubbling past your lips and exchanged, in hushed whispers, the conversation that Molly had just walked in on.

It was like Roy had never left as he followed the two of you into the dining room. He took his seat across the table from you like he always did and knocked his foot against yours every time he wanted your attention. Dinner was good and before he knew it you were half on top of him on the sofa, sneaking bites from his plate of dessert as everyone else partook in the worlds most heated game of Pictionary.

He gave a sharp nudge to your ribs when you stole the last bite but quickly soothed it over with the gentle drumming of his fingers against your skin. The pair of you talked in hushed tones for the rest of the evening about his transfer to Chelsea and everything he was looking forward to now that he was back in London, as well as all your plans for your super long summer before you started college in September.

It was only when Roy's mum turned to ask if you were going home or staying over that anyone had noticed the two of you cuddled up in the armchair in the corner of the room, both fast asleep. She didn't dare wake you, thankful to see her son at peace for the first time in what felt like years, instead placing a blanket over the two of you and ushering Molly up to bed despite her insistence that you come with her.

One day, she thought, the two of you would finally see yourselves in other people, realise that if love looks like that then the two of you must be in it, and with any luck she'd still be alive to see it. She knew Roy was stubborn enough to keep that from happening. Maybe he would't be this time; at least, not when it came to you.

~*~

When the rumours of Roy's relationship with Britanny Brett are confirmed by a quote she gives in an interview, he finds himself typing out an apology to you. He stares at his phone for 3 hours and the most he can type out is 'I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm sorry,' but he still doesn't send it. Roy's not entirely sure what he's apologising for.

It's the night before his 27th birthday and he's debating whether or not he should show up to the birthday dinner his mum has planned for him tomorrow. You'll be there. He knows it. But only because he knows that Molly dragged you back from uni with her just for the occasion. And for some reason that he can't quite place, or just doesn't want to yet, he feels bad about having to see your face and hear you talk about his girlfriend.

Although Brittany Brett is smoking hot, and they have really great sex, he's not sure he wants to take her home to meet his family. To meet you. Sure, she's a great footballers girlfriend, but he's a little worried about what the people who know him as just Roy will think of her.

When she appears on the other side of his door the morning of his 27th birthday, the first thing he says to her is 'you can't come to my birthday party' and he feels like he's 8 years old again and making mortal enemies in the playground at school. She doesn't acknowledge his comment, instead inviting herself in and making herself at home in Roy's living room, and he's never been more thankful for her 'too good for everyone' demeanour.

He drops her off at her house on the way over to his mums house later that evening. Roy decides he hates the way her perfume lingers in his car and has buried itself under his skin. He wants nothing more then for it to get away from him but there's still 20 minutes left of the drive and he knows the second you hear the car pull up you'll come running out the door and he won't have anytime to get the smell off of him.

When he pulls up on the doorstep of his childhood home 20 minutes later, only Molly comes running from the house to greet him. For a minute he thinks you haven't shown up to celebrate his birthday with him and he feels his heart break in two. He tells himself he doesn't know why. However, when he walks into the house and heads straight to the kitchen in search of a beer to calm his nerves, and help him forget about you, he finds you there, helping his mum with making his favourite dinner and a wide smile on your face.

You notice him lingering, shocked, in the doorway and pull him into your arms. There's less strength to your hold then he's used to but he feels grateful that you even want him in your arms after everything he's done. Now Roy really isn't sure why he's talking like that; like you've been hard done by from his relationship with Brittany Brett. To a degree he feels like he's cheated on you, but he can't have done because the two of you were never together. However, he doesn't let the thought linger, instead pulling you tighter against him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Of course you'd be here, of course you would, but he finds himself holding onto you for a little longer then he probably should just to make sure you're really here and really staying.

Dinner is nice. It's a piece of simplicity he's missed every night since he was 9 years old and heading away to Sunderland for the first time. It's not often nowadays that he gets to eat dinner at a dining table surrounded by people he loves and who love him, so he relishes in every moment of it. He lets his hand brush against yours when he asks for the salt and he nudges your foot with his every-time he wants your attention. Being in this room, in this seat, with you, is like being 8 years old again and everything bad is yet to happen to him. Roy realises he likes the feeling of it more then he ever remembers.

No one brings up Brittany Brett, the way Roy smelt like her when you hugged him, the apology he never sent, or the way you cried in Molly and Ms Kent's arms when you found out he had a girlfriend. Dinner is peaceful and you and Roy share a slice of birthday cake on his Grandad's armchair, then fall asleep together there like he doesn't have a girlfriend and you don't have a broken heart.

His mum feels like she's got two children in her house and she wishes it would stay like this forever, as long as that meant Roy couldn't hurt your heart more then he already had. But Roy is stubborn, and she knows that. When she comes downstairs in the morning it's just you on the armchair with Roy's jacket over your shoulders like a blanket. You're hugging the material tightly against you as if it could ever replace Roy's presence, and even though you're still asleep, both of you know it won't.

When Roy sneaks out at 4am, the first thing he does is drive to Brittany Brett's house and breaks up with her. After all, there's no point being with someone when you know for a fact that you're in love with someone else.

~*~

Molly's dating this guy who doesn't let her speak to you, or Roy, or her own mum and you're scared for her life. In the two times you've managed to get a hold of her, you begged and pleaded with her to leave him. She's only 25 and so are you, you could run away together and start it all over and no one would know any different. Both times she said she wanted to be with him, that she loved him. All you want is your best friend back and for her to be safe, and rather selfishly, because you need her more then you've ever needed anyone.

Despite trying all day, you can't reach her, or her boyfriend, and you don't know who else to call. Ms Kent was the only real parental figure you'd had growing up, but it was pushing midnight and you didn't want to wake her up for the sake of your own comfort. Roy's number is below hers on your favourite contacts and you don't hesitate to ring it. You know he's got a match this weekend and practice tomorrow but you need someone and you have no one else to keep you from your own mind.

Roy's in some club in north London when his phone rings and his screen illuminates with your name and a picture of the two of you from last Christmas. It's one of the newcomers 21st birthday and he remembers being 21 and moving to Chelsea, moving back home, like it was yesterday. He's got 10 years on the kid who's just starting his career while he's going on aging out of it. It's almost enough to make him feel old.

He's quick to answer the phone, practically running out of the club to make sure he can hear you and he's already walking back to his car when he hears the suppressed sniffle to your voice. Roy can't see 100% past 9pm anymore so he doesn't drink when he goes out with the team, he knows it'll only make it worse, and for the first time ever, it's actually come in use.

It takes him 37 minutes exactly to drive from the club to your childhood home that's pressed brick by brick against his, and that's only because he made a pit stop to his own house on the way over. Every time he comes back here lately, it feels like some cruel trick of fate, that he can't have you but can have his entire life shaped by you.

He's banging his fist loudly against the door before he can take into consideration that your neighbours, one of which is his own mother, are likely asleep and wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at this hour. When you open the door to a friendly face, you all but collapse into Roy's arms, already sobbing and heaving and trying to get the words out but not being able to do so. He scoops you up into his arms, years of intense football training allowing him to do it without second though, and carries you to your bedroom.

He placed you against the pillows and then kicks off his shoes, he definitely scuffed them up in the process but Roy couldn't seem to find the time to mind. Before you've managed to get a single word out Roy's stripped off the bulk of his suit, leaving him in just a shirt, boxers and socks. The image is kind of funny and if you weren't so devastated, you were sure you'd be laughing.

"What's wrong?" When Roy's hands gently wrap around your wrists to try and pull them away from your face and get a glance at you, you just start crying harder. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me."

When he's met with more silence he pulls out his surprise weapon, a raggedy, old teddy bear, with matted fur that smells surprisingly like Roy. "Would it be easier to talk to Dave?" Finally your hands move away from your face to get a look at the teddy bear, not believing it's right in front of you when you know you haven't seen it since you were five yours old. It took a couple of minutes, lots of sniffling, and really willing yourself to say it, but eventually you did. Roy's arms around your and the soft touch of Dave's fur against your skin settling your nerves.

"My dad died this morning." Roy didn't hesitate to pull you into his lap, settling himself against your pillows as he brought you closer to him. "And I have no one to tell. Molly's boyfriend won't let her speak to me anymore, and I didn't want to burden your mum with it, and I just... I didn't know who to call or talk to and I know you were probably busy-"

"Hey, hey, don't. You did the right thing calling me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah?" Both of Roy's hands are cradling your face, forcing you to look at him and really listen to what he wants to say. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You shuffle in his lap, turning enough that you can bury your head in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Roy's warm and surprisingly comfy, but you reckon that's more so because the skin of his thighs are pressing into the skin of yours and you're sure it's the closest you've ever been to him. You try not to think about how you wouldn't mind being this close to him more often.

The rest of the night is spent with you in Roy's arms, his hand running up and down your back, his other hand cradling your face and wiping away each tear that spills over. He lets you ramble and ramble about everything on your mind with no regard for the fact he's got practice at 8am tomorrow. Even when you fall asleep in his arms, tears staining his brand new shirt, practice is the furthest thing from his mind, so much so that he doesn't even remember sending  Di Matteo the text saying he wasn't well and wouldn't be able to make practice in the morning.

Roy wakes up a long time before you, and he finds he has to practically drag himself away from you and the bed. When his eyes blink open he sees the sight he's spent the better part of his life waiting to see: you're in his arms, fast asleep, looking entirely peaceful and for a minute he can pretend that this is his life. While the haze of sleep has yet to fade, he can act like he wakes up to you every morning, that you love him like he loves you, and that, if he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and flashed him that bright beautiful smile of yours.

If he wanted to, he could press kisses all over your face until you woke up and you would greet him with a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his face in return and not caring if it landed against his lips, cheek, or jaw, because you know you'll be able to kiss the other places whenever you like.

Roy pulls himself out of bed and drags his feet all the way to your kitchen where he cooks the two of you breakfast. Nothing about it is rushed - he knows that he has nowhere to be but here, with you. He knows you've woken up when he can hear the gentle padding of your feet against your bedroom floor. Roy hears you walk down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where you then cross the room to him, and wrap your arms around his waist. Dave is clutched in on of your hands and your head is pressed against the dimples of his shoulder blades, your other hand fiddling with the hem of the front of his T-shirt, so casually that any passer by would think this was routine. And even though it isn't, Roy takes the risk of placing his hand atop your own and lacing his fingers through yours. When he can feel you smile into his back, he thinks maybe he should've kissed you in the bedroom, that maybe you'd have liked it just as much as he would've.

~*~

It's another year after your dad died before Molly finds out. She doesn't show up to Christmas, or Easter, but she comes by one late spring afternoon when Ms Kent had invited you and Roy over for picky bits in the garden, with a bin bag full of her belongings and a black eye. If your hand wasn't holding Roy's so tightly you were sure he would've been right out of the door, driving off to find the prick and give him an even worse beating then he'd given his sister.

You pull Roy with you when you cross the garden to engulf Molly in a hug, both of you breaking down at the contact and apologies tumbling from both of your lips. Molly apologises for not being there when your dad died, and not attending the funeral, you force her to take back her apology while also shoving your own down her throat, apologising for not finding her, for not being there. The two of you only cry harder when Roy pulls the two of you, still hugging, into his embrace. It's warm and his hands are big and it makes you feel like you're a child again, and you suppose that in some ways you still are.

It takes almost half an hour for the two of you to calm down enough for any coherent words to get out, and the first ones that do is that Molly's pregnant and she needs somewhere to stay. Immediately you ask her to move in with you. It's perfect really, you're next door to her mum and you've got a room for her and for the baby (when it comes) now that your dads passed. Roy likes the idea even more; something about his three, soon to be four, favourite people being in one place taking his fancy.

The eight months between Molly showing back up and beautiful baby Phoebe being born seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The soft, warm, yellow paint of phoebes nursery smears your memories of those months; everything about it is caked in the glow of the summer you have when you're 5 years old and have no care in the world.

You and Molly are best friends again and it's like you never missed two years of each others lives; everything just falls right back into place. The two of you do everything together and you wouldn't have it any other way, even when everything includes being in the room with her and Ms Kent when she's giving birth.

Roy, unluckily, is the only one not invited into the room, and he spends almost 6 hours pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for some kind of an update on his sister and his niece. It's you that comes to give it to him. You're in blue scrubs that you pull off further with every step you take into the waiting room, running right into Roy's arms with the widest smile he's ever seen cross your face.

"She's beautiful, Roy. She's so beautiful." He just nods his head and allows you to take his hand and pull him in the direction of the room Molly and his mum are in. "I love her so much already and she's only been here for 5 minutes."

Roy understood what you meant as soon as he walked into the room. Molly was absolutely glowing, and cradling this tiny, tiny baby in her arms like she was terrified any movement at all might hurt her - she didn't even look like she was breathing less it hurt the baby.

"Do you want to hold her?" You whispered, nudging his foot with yours to gain his attention. "You won't break her, promise." You didn't give Roy the opportunity to answer, instead eagerly taking the baby off of Molly and walking over to Roy. His mum all but pushed him into one of the chairs they had in the room and lectured him on how to hold the baby correctly. Slowly, you lowered her into his arms, making sure he had a comfortable and safe grip on her before you removed your arms from the little Phoebe completely. "Isn't she amazing?"

Roy can already picture it and it's breaking his heart. You, and him, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket with eyes that don't yet know how to open. But, in the daydream he doesn't tell anyone about, you're holding the baby and his arms are around you, whispering how much he loves you into your ear and promising to do everything for that baby. Your baby. He doesn't yet know if a day like that is ever going to come; he'd have to get over himself first, and he doesn't see that happening anytime soon. For you, however, he just might try.

"Yeah, yeah she is."

Molly and little baby Phoebe have to stay in the hospital overnight, but can be discharged in the morning, and Molly doesn't let any of you stay with her. In fact, she demands the three of you head home and come back tomorrow, well rested to drive her and newborn Phoebe home.

The three of you pick up some chinese takeout on your way home and eat it around Ms Kent's dinner table. Molly's absence is so heavily felt that part of you feels thrust back in time to a year ago, when you didn't have any contact with her and didn't know if she was even alive, let alone okay. It shakes you to your core and you leave your dinner half eaten as you excuse yourself to the bathroom just to breathe. When you return to the table, you find that dinner has been cleared away, but Ms Kent is holding out a spoon for you, pointing you in the direction of the living room.

Roy's sat in his grandads armchair with the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen and he opens up his arms to you when he feels you staring at him from the doorway. You didn't hesitate to sit with him, squished up in the seat that fit the both of you slightly better when you were kids, with Roy's arm around your shoulders. When you didn't take a large helping of ice cream for yourself, he nudged the bowl in your direction.

"When Molly came home, I'd get in bed with her each night." You whispered, only loud enough that Roy would be able to hear you. It felt embarrassing, to try and explain why you felt Molly's absence for one night so vastly, but you knew that if anyone would get it, it would be Roy. "For the first month or so, she'd ask me to stay with her, so she knew she wasn't alone and she was safe. So I did. And then one night she was like 'I don't need you in bed with me anymore, I think I'm okay now,' and I didn't know what to do." You stuck your spoon inside the ice-cream, stirring it around the bowl but never bringing the build up of vanilla on the spoon to your lips. "I got in bed that night and I couldn't sleep at all, so I went and knocked on her door and she was still awake. Told me she couldn't sleep either, and I got right back into bed with her." Tears pricked at your eyes and your spoon fell against the bowl. "I don't know what to do without Molly, Royo, I don't want to have to do without her again."

Roy quickly moved the half eaten bowl of ice cream to the coffee table, pulling you into him and cradling your head against his shoulder. "Molly's not going anywhere, babe, she'll be home in the morning. Everything's going to be okay."

Neither of you brought up how he called you babe, and his mum didn't bring up how you fell asleep cuddled up in the armchair like you did when you were kids. But when Roy brought Phoebe and Molly home the following morning, and Molly and Ms Kent had taken Phoebe upstairs to get her settled into her new home, he pulled you in for a hug.

"Told you so." He whispered in your ear, pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. Then Roy grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers with his and pulling you up the stairs to join Phoebe in her new room. Dave was in his other hand and he continued to stand by you as you placed it in the crib with her, knowing that she needed Dave more then you or Roy did now.

All of you couldn't wait to watch this little girl grow up surrounded by people who loved her so, so much.

~*~

Roy gets transferred to Richmond just before Phoebe's 4th birthday and you tease him that he has a penchant for getting the best kinds of birthday present. He asks why you remember so clearly that his transfer to Chelsea 15 years ago was just before your 16th birthday, and you answer honestly that it was the only thing you'd wanted for your birthday that year - for Roy to be closer to home. You immediately get to tease him again as a blush coats his cheeks.

On his first day at Richmond, he gets you, Molly and Phoebe seats in the family box, says that they'll always be there if you ever want to come and watch him play, and you reply that you always watch him play.

"I've been playing professionally for half my life. Sunderland, Chelsea, and now Richmond. I've never seen you even glimpse at a football match."

You scoff immediately and Roy's slightly taken aback, you almost look angry at what he's saying and he doesn't know why because he's right. Not that it matters to him, but you just don't like football that much; he doesn't blame you or anything, each to their own, but he wishes you'd like it for him. "I've seen every game you've ever played."

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right." You turned to Roy, putting down the bag filled with Phoebe's first ever school uniform inside now that you'd made it back home. "I'm serious. I've watched every match you've ever played in. All of your games with Sunderland and Chelsea, and I'll watch all your games now that you're at Richmond." You turn to Roy with a tense crease in your brow and he's wishing he never brought it up. "You're important to me Roy, of course I'd watch every time you play."

"What's sundayland, babe?" Phoebe had ran into the living room when she'd heard the door go, excited that you and Roy returned home. Molly and you had called each other babe since you were teenagers, and Phoebe had taken to calling you babe over your actual name. It didn't help that Roy had let it slip a few time too, only reassuring her that she was calling you by the correct thing.

"It's nothing, pheeb's." You scooped the little blonde into your arms, resting her against your jutted out hip and beginning to wander through the house. "Where your mum? You need to try on your uniform."

"Can I give you a fashion show?" She asked, leaning her head against your shoulder in a way that had Roy thinking about the two of you with a kid again. He'd have to ask you out first, and with each year that passed, the possibility of him actually doing that seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.

"Of course you can, Pheeb's. Go get dressed. Me and your uncle Roy will wait in the living room."

You stuck to your word, watching every single match that Roy played in. Sometimes at Nelson road, sometimes with Molly and Phoebe, sometimes in Ms Kent's living room - but you always watched him play.

The first time Molly let you take Phoebe to Nelson road was as your birthday present the same year Phoebe turned 6. You'd been pleading all year for Molly to let you bring Phoebe along to a home game, and she finally caved - on the condition you kept her ear defenders on all night and left if it got too much for her. Phoebe loved every minute of the match, screamed her little heart out just for the sake of joining in, even if she didn't know what people were saying; You were certain her cry of 'uncle Roy' every time she saw him with the ball was the loudest in the stadium.

When the match was over, a man with glasses found you in the stands, introduced himself as 'Higgins,' handed you two family lanyards with Kent plastered all over them, and asked you to follow him. You're barely in the changing rooms when Phoebe lets go of your hand, crying Roy's name and interrupting a speak from that new, American coach that Roy had complained about.

"Phoebe!" The blonde didn't wait up for you, running right at Roy and knowing he'd catch her when she flung herself the remaining foot into his arms. "What did I tell you?"

"I didn't know grandad fancied himself a cradle robber." You'd heard enough complaints to know the dig at Roy was from Jamie Tartt, the season loan from Manchester City. "Surely, someone like you isn't married to someone like Roy."

The twinge of disgust that slipped from the mans mouth when he said Roy's name had your blood boiling. "Why? Would you rather me with the likes of you instead?"

Jamie stood in dumbfounded silence as you turned back to Roy, your face entirely brightening, and his presence being totally ignored for the rest of your stay in the lock room. He wasn't used to that. He was trying to compliment you, say you were way out of Roy's league - maybe even ask for your number - but you didn't even spare him a second glance. In fact, now that your eyes were back on him, he wasn't entirely sure you were ever going to look away from Roy again. It made sense when he thought about it in bed later that night, even though he teased the fuck out of Roy and sometimes plainly treated him like shit, Roy Kent was one of the greats. Even Jamie Tartt knew that, and had known it since he was 6 years old - of course he'd managed to score someone like you.

Murmurs of Roy Kent having a secret spouse and daughter had filled Nelson Road before you'd even left the building.

It wasn't that Roy didn't want to talk about you. If he had the opportunity, he'd scream about you from rooftops, but being a footballer was a very public affair and he loved his privacy. Almost as much as he loved you.

The dog track didn't think they'd ever see your face again, not when Roy had growled at them after he'd guided you and Phoebe out of the changing room. Unfortunately for them, they would, under the worst possible circumstances.

You'd been on the edge of your seat the whole match. Roy's been benched for the first time in what you're sure is his entire career and doesn't come on until the 60th minute and when he does, you swear he's on fire. He's playing better then he'd ever played before, running faster then he's ever ran in the past few years, and he's slide tackling Jamie Tartt and getting the ball away from the goal. People are screaming his name and so are you.

And then he's not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up.

And then he's still not getting up, the cheers have died down, and everyone's waiting with baited breath while it's determined if they've just seen the end of Roy Kent's 30 year long career with their own eyes.

And then Roy gets up, and for a fleeting moment you think that maybe everything's okay, that Roy's okay, and he's going to carry on playing.

And then he's walking from the pitch, limping, and your sprinting from your seat in the family box and running up to the owners box. You don't have to say a word because Rebecca calls a member of security over to you, and asks with a kind smile for him to guide you down to the changing rooms.

You linger outside the door for about 5 seconds before you push it open. If you were anyone else, you'd were certain he would've yelled at you to get out, even though he didn't mean it, just for the sake of his image. But you weren't anyone else, you were you.

"I'm fine." You hadn't even made it fully into the room and Roy was already trying to make his pain seem less bad then it was. "I'm fine. Go watch the rest of the match. You might have to drive us back to yours though."

"Roy." He doesn't say anything as you cross the room and sit beside him on the bench. You slowly wrap your arm around his shoulders and tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down to rest against your shoulder. "Don't. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, yeah? You're important to me, let me be here for you."

Roy kisses you and you instantly realise you'd have waited 33 more years for it, if that meant it would happen.

His lips are chapped, and his beard is slightly scratchy, and he's already breathless before he even leans into it but you don't mind. You find that his lips slant against yours perfectly and he slides you closer against him on the bench, using the hand he'd placed on your hip to give it a squeeze, eliciting an gasp from you. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth but he pulls away before it can escalate.

You hope to anything listening that he wants to kiss you again, because you're sure he's ruined the touch of everyone else's lips against your skin for you.

"I've been in love with you since I was 5 years old." Roy pressed his lips back to yours in a quick succession of kisses and you're sure that thats a good sign.

"Since you were 5 years old?" He asks, nudging his nose against yours, pressing his lips firmly to yours when they brush slightly as he speaks. "Fuck, did we waste a lot of time."

~*~

Roy's been the manager of Richmond for the last 4 months and you're thankful that there's no football on over Christmas. You get Roy practically all to yourself for three weeks and it's the best feeling ever.

Phoebes still in school until the 22nd, and you live together at Roy's house, so there's no chance Molly will walk in on the two of you or his mum will hear you through the walls - meaning 90% of his first week off work is spent having sex on every surface in the house, in every position imaginable.

The second week off is the main bulk of Christmas. You pick Phoebe up from school on the 22nd and she has a sleep over at your house. The 23rd is spent curled up on your couch, with Phoebe sandwiched between the two of you, watching Christmas movies all day and stuffing your faces with popcorn and hot chocolate. Phoebe spends the night again, and then the three of you drive down to Ms Kent's house at lunchtime on the 24th. Molly comes home from work around 6pm and the 5 of spend the rest of the evening in the living room, watching 'love actually' and 'the polar express,' until it's time for bed. Even though you and Roy have been together for nearly 3 years now, you sleep in Molly's bed with her and Phoebe, reminiscing on the christmas's of your childhood and giggling over them until you fall asleep.

When christmas morning finally comes, you and Molly are the last awake, Phoebe jumping all over the two of you and demanding you get downstairs as soon as possible to see what Father Christmas has left for her. You let Phoebe drag you down stairs even though you're barely awake and you crawl into Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, at the first opportunity. He's already got a coffee made for you, just the way you like it, and a warm hand that he slips up the back of your tshirt to scratch gently against your skin as you watch Phoebe begin to open her mountain of presents.

"How many of these are from you?" You whisper, feeling Roy smile against your temple as you sip on your coffee, slowly waking up in his arms.

"Enough. They're not all for Pheeb's anyway." Roy picks you up enough to adjust your position in his lap, making it more comfortable for the both of you to sit and talk and watch presents getting opened. "Some for my mum, some for Molly, some for you."

"You're too kind to me, baby." You lean up enough to press a kiss to Roy's lips, ignoring the loud screech Phoebe lets out at the display of affection. "I got some stuff for you under there too, handsome."

"I don't see you under that tree, Father Christmas clearly mustn't have got my list." Even though you're not looking directly at Roy you can feel the smirk that is pulling at his lips.

Before you could comment on what that could possibly mean Phoebe was calling your name, sticking her hand out with a tiny, paper-wrapped box in her palm. "This one's for you, it says it's from uncle Roy!"

"For me, huh? Lets have a look then, shall we Pheeb's?" Phoebe abandoned her half opened pile of gifts to stand beside you, leaning over the arm of the arm chair and over your shoulder to get a prime look at the gift as you opened it. "Thank you, baby."

Roy pinched your hip teasingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he intently watched you carefully unfold the wrapping paper. "Open it first, you might not like it. I kept the receipt so... just say the word and we'll get it changed."

"It's from you, Royo, I'm sure I'll love it." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his lips, not realising just how much your words would ring true until you'd fully unwrapped the box; finding a navy blue, velvet ring box and tears in Ms Kent's eyes. "Roy..."

"I spent 36 years of my life not knowing you felt the same way about me as I felt about you." Roy took the box gently from your hold and opened it, taking the dainty and elegant ring from it and holding it between the two of you. "And I don't plan to waste another moment of my life without you by my side."

"Yes."

"Oi, you're supposed to let me fucking ask you first." A laugh bubbled past your lips despite the tears building in your eyes. "Will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"

"Yes." Your hands found Roy's face before his could place the ring on your finger, pulling him into a hot and forceful kiss, tilting his head back with how much you leaned into it, into him. "Yes. Yes. Yes, please."

"You owe me £1, Uncle Roy."

Tears are shed and the rest of the gifts are opened. Christmas dinner goes by without a hitch, and before you know it the days nearly over and you find yourself in Roy's lap, in his grandads armchair, with one bowl of dessert between the two of you, like so many times before. Ms Kent is sat across from the two of you with her own bowl of dessert and she looks like she wants to say something about it. She doesn't, but only because she knows, and she knows that you and Roy know. This day was a long time coming and she's over the moon that it's come in her lifetime.

Roy's love for you was stronger then any will he had to remain stubborn, and after a life time of waiting, he'd finally found his way to you, and she was sure he would find his way to you in every lifetime; even if it took 100 years or breaking a curse. Like she'd told you on that cool September morning, the prince always comes back, and they always live happily ever after. And she was sure the two of you were going to as well.

an : if you made this this far I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed another super long Roy fic, feel free to leave some feedback or what your favourite part of the story was, or even a request from my summer sleepover prompts!! Mwah <333

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter.” 1

Dad!Bakugou x FBabysitter!Sensei!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

The day that Katsuki married her, most of his friends kept advising him it was not a good idea, she was a walking red flag, and she only loves him for his wealth since being the second-ranked hero he is and holding his own agency, money isn't a problem to him.

Until he got her pregnant. After giving birth to his son, recuperating, and finally moving on her own again, she left him without any notice, not any letter. He just got home and frantically made his way to his wailing child in his crib. Katsuki immediately picked him up and made his way to the kitchen preparing his child a bottle for his formulated milk. As soon as he felt the milk was lukewarm, he tap the nipple of the bottle on his child’s lips and saw how his son starts sucking it.

That made Katsuki leave work for a month until he was able to ask for help. With the help of Mitsuki and Masaru, they took care of their grandchild in daylight, and when Katsuki got off from work, he would pick up his child and take care of him by the night. Even though his mom insisted to take care of her grandchild full-time, Katsuki declined and said that he wanted to take care of his own blood as much as he can.

Years passed and his now 7 years old son adores him very much. He saw how his father beat up the villain and save people. It makes him want to be a hero like him. Every time Katsuki would come and pick him up from his grandparents, he would reenact the moves Katsuki did making Katsuki smirk.

“Alright brat. Stop with that and pick up your stuff. Let's head in.” Katsuki said parking his car in his garage as he opens the door for his son to get off.

“You look so cool! And you went kick! And then bam!” the kid said as he went and pick up his things from the back seat.

“I know I am. Now let's go inside.” Katsuki said locking the car door and going inside their home.

Once they both settled, Katsuki changed from his work clothing to his normal clothing and starts preparing their dinner. “Oi. Don't forget to work on your assignment!” he yelled, receiving awe in response that made him chuckle.

Katsuki watched his son drag down his school bag making his way to the living room where the center table is.

“I heard from your teacher you’re doing well,” Katsuki said as he chopped the ingredients.

“I need to be good so that I can be strong like you!” his son said making Katsuki smirk.

“You think I’m strong?” Katsuki looked at his son who was working on his homework by himself.

“Mhm!!”

Katsuki took his time watching his son count his fingers before saying aha as if finding out the answer. When Katsuki continued his chopping, little did he know his son suddenly went quiet and stopped writing. He stared blankly at his unfinished homework before speaking up.

“Dad,” he called out softly.

“What?” Katsuki replied thinking that he might need his assistance with his homework.

“Why don't I have a mom?”

His question made him halt his chopping. He knows the answer to his question and yet he was hesitating to say it. He's too young to know that his mom suddenly left them when he was still a baby.

“I saw my classmates being picked up my their mom.” His son added.

“I could pick you up after school.” Katsuki glancing at him.

“I hate being left alone at school when Grandma can't pick me up.. Sometimes, Ms. Y/n would take me out with her and eat in a cafe.”

This he didn't know. “What?”

“Sometimes grandma and grandpa can't pick me up because they have a lot of clothes to make so I'm always left alone at school with Ms. Y/n”

Why doesn’t his mom tell him this?

“How long do you usually wait for them to pick you up?” Katsuki was pissed.

“It gets dark outside. Ms. Y/n would take me to her home and would cook for me! She's a great cook, dad!”

Katsuki will make sure he’ll discuss this with his parents.

“Sometimes, Ms. Y/n is like a momma to me! She take care of me. She wipes the dirt off my knees whenever I tripped. She has a small apartment though. But it's very clean!” Katsuki stared at his son as he rambles about his teacher. “And, and, Ms. Y/n has a healing quirk! It's very cool whenever I watch her heal someone, her hands are glowing! Although if it heals, she’ll get a wound out of nowhere..”

Katsuki is now interested. He has this eagerness to meet this teacher his son is talking about. He's been too busy being a hero to the point he relies on his parents to drop his son at school. But after what he heard, this is the first time he’ll drop his son to school.

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 5: Forgotten

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your family gains new additions.

Hello! My sincere apologies for how long this took. I got massively sidetracked by researching how to bind a book, the interest in which hit at a completely inappropriate time in the writing-editing-crafting cycle, lol. I should definitely be focusing on finishing this thing before I start fixating on binding books. Anyway; this chapter is a little time-jumpy, given that I have to speed through a bunch of time. Also, note that I've fudged with the ages of Alicent's kids, so in Episode 3, know that she is now pregnant with Aemond, not Helaena like in the show. It's the only way to make him of-age in the Episode 8 scenes. Happy (and well-deserved) holidays to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs, who I have graciously given a night off of slaving away for me, lol.

TRIGGERS: continued discussion of child grief, Viserys's shenanigans in impregnating an underaged Alicent (canon, this is NOT MY ADDITION).

When Alicent gets married to Papa, they have a big ceremony. So so many people come from all over the kingdom to see Papa take a new queen, and the days of the wedding—there are lots of days to them starting in marriage—are full of more noise and colour and movement than you could ever think was real.

Her dress is very pretty, and Papa looks very nice in his new coat, but neither of them look so happy as people who are going to be in marriage should be. Papa keeps playing with the ring on his finger that is from Mama, while Alicent just looks like she is afraid. You think it might be because of how loud everyone is being.

’Nyra isn’t happy, either. She keeps you on her lap the entire time with an angry look and doesn’t speak to Alicent very much at all, but at least she tries to be kind when she does. She ignores Papa, and because you are all sitting at the high table and everyone is watching you, he cannot tell her she is being rude and naughty.

Because you don’t want to look at Alicent’s unhappy face or ’Nyra’s angry one, you play with your sister’s necklace, letting the shiny metal take all your attention. It is Valyrian steel, which is what Papa’s and Uncle’s swords are made out of, so it is very special. Uncle gave it to her. When you let your fingers swirl over the ruby in the middle of the big pendant over and over, you pretend that it’s a part of him and that he’s here, after all.

After the big ceremony is done, life goes back to almost-normal. Now that Alicent is Papa’s queen, she is something called a stepmother, meaning that Brella and Septa and all the people who are made to look after you and ’Nyra have to talk to her about you both. She is like your mama. You wake up and break your fast with Alicent, and she cuts up your food instead of Mama, and she takes you outside to play and tells you about the names of the flowers. Then, when it is time to sleep again, she reads you a story. You think that she likes it very much because she always seems sad until she sees you, and then her face goes bright like the sun.

‘Nyra doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it at all. When she learns that Alicent is acting like your mama, she goes very red like she’s going to scream, but she just goes very quiet instead and storms out of your rooms. For that whole day, ’Nyra takes you to the gardens and to see Syrax and to the library to learn some more High Valyrian, her new sworn shield Ser Criston behind her all the time. She never once lets you go see Alicent to do the things you normally do. When you finally get to be in the room with her at suppertime with Papa and ’Nyra, which Papa has said you all must do now so that everyone can get along, all she does is give you a small smile that doesn’t make her eyes go bright like usual and ask about your big day with your sister.

That is how things are for a while. Either you will go through your days with Alicent or with ’Nyra, and never both in one day because ’Nyra is still so angry at Alicent for being in marriage with Papa. You keep asking why, but your sister doesn’t tell you anything. She just goes quiet and frowns and mutters things you cannot hear. Meanwhile, Alicent will always stop, take a big breath that sounds shaky when she lets it out, and say, “I have no quarrel with Rhaenyra. She is as welcome to my rooms and in my company as you are, princess.”

You think that might be a lie.

One day, though, everything changes.

’Nyra decides to take you to the library so that you can look at more books in High Valyrian. Even the books written in the Common Tongue make no sense to you yet, and Brella told you this is because you are not old enough to learn reading properly. Still, your sister says that it is still good to try when you’re young, so she sits beside you and points out all the funny-looking symbols and tells you what they mean all together. You fall asleep in there instead of having a nap in your bed, but ’Nyra just puts a blanket over you and keeps reading. When you wake, you listen to her voice as she speaks the words from the pages aloud. You don’t understand all of it, but you think you’ve learned more and more since Mama died and she stopped being friends with Alicent. It means she has lots of time for you. Maybe that shouldn’t make you happy, but you cannot help it.

At supper, you see Lord Hightower, Alicent’s papa, beside her. That means that you have to be next to ’Nyra tonight, so you follow her to her side of the table and sit in the chair that the maid pulls out for you. The chair is higher than the others, made special so that you can reach the food that is put before you. Looking around, it is easy to tell that something is different from how happy Lord Hightower looks and how smiling Papa’s face is.

“My two daughters,” he says a bit too loudly, cheeks bright red. His cup is in front of him, and the gold shines red from the drink inside. Wine, you think. It is for men and women, not little girls, and it makes the people who drink it act strange like Papa is now. He waves his hand in a ‘hello’ as he lifts his cup to his mouth and takes a sip. “Ah!”

’Nyra starts eating her food without a word. Everyone has plates with different foods on it, but you have a bowl in front of your seat. Because you are small, the cooks always give you pottage for your supper so that you can eat it with a spoon and no one has to cut things up for you. You don’t always like it—there are lots of lumps and you can never tell what taste is going to be in your mouth with each bite—but it is warm and makes your tummy nice and full.

The room is full of the sounds of chewing and clack-clacking when the knives and forks hit the plates. You pick up your spoon and scoop up some food. There are dark bits, which means the cooks have put meat in it. You scrunch your nose.

Papa coughs between bites. He is still smiling a lot. “It seems like an age since I saw you last!”

“We had supper with you yesterday evening,” ’Nyra says.

“Ah, yes!” He takes another drink of his wine. Maybe he shouldn’t, because he is blinking very much like you do when you’re trying to stay awake. “Perhaps the waiting has made it seem longer.”

“Waiting?”

“I am sure you have noticed Otto’s presence by now.”

’Nyra doesn’t even look at the man. “My lord.” Her voice seems cold.

“Princess.” Lord Hightower bends his head, but he doesn’t sound very happy either.

Alicent puts her hand on Papa’s arm. ’Nyra watches so closely that you wonder if her eyes can make holes in other people’s skin. “I—we—have some news, Rhaenyra.”

“Oh?” She sounds bored.

“Well…”

When Alicent doesn’t say anything, ’Nyra makes a huffing noise. It is very rude.

“Well?” she asks, looking between Alicent and Papa. “What is it, then? Everyone’s acting rather strange.”

“Alicent is with child,” Papa says.

‘With child’ is what people say when a baby is growing in a lady’s belly. It’s what Mama told you before Baelon grew very large inside her.

’Nyra freezes, almost like she has forgotten how to move. No one says anything. Papa’s smile—the one that his words made so much bigger when he said them out loud—begins to fall, more and more with each moment that ’Nyra does nothing at all. Then, it goes away completely, and he’s no longer happy like he was.

It’s quiet again. Not the nice kind—the kind that means that someone is about to yell or be naughty.

“A baby?” you ask. Maybe you can stop the bad from happening if you help everyone remember that you’re still here.

Alicent looks at you, the fear leaving her face a little. She nods. “Yes, princess. You’re to have a brother or sis—”

“Half-brother.” ’Nyra’s lips move, but the rest of her stays still. She cannot stop staring between Papa and Alicent. “Or half-sister. Either way, they will not be your full blood.”

“You are correct, princess.” From the way Lord Hightower speaks and how silent Alicent and Papa are at ’Nyra’s words, you think she must have said something quite mean. He gives her a little smile, one that makes her hands squeeze really tight on her knife and fork. “Even so, these are glad tidings, indeed. Let us all pray for the queen to be delivered of a son.”

“I’m sure that would be of great benefit to the Hightowers, my lord. A son… to solidify your claim to my father’s throne.”

Lord Hightower stops smiling. Alicent gasps.

Papa makes a small noise. “Rhaenyra—”

All at once, she stands, the plate in front of her clattering loudly with how quick she rises. “Congratulations, Your Grace.” She doesn’t sound very happy for Alicent, even if the words are nice. “Forgive me—I feel suddenly unwell.”

“Daughter—”

’Nyra ignores Papa and storms out of the room, leaving her food only half-eaten. The rest of supper is very quiet, the loudest noise of all being the sound of your own breathing.

Isn’t a baby meant to be happy news? you wonder. You look around, but no one here is very happy—except for Lord Hightower. Though he isn’t smiling, he has his head held high like he has had every one of his wishes granted all at once.

“What do you think, princess?” Brella asks.

You stare down into the cradle at the baby. Your brother. Aegon. He is squirming, face bright red, squished and crying. He hasn’t stopped even once since you came into the room. He might have been crying since before you did, even. Aside from the bright hair on top of his head, you don’t think he looks very much like you.

“He’s nice,” is what you say, but you don’t know if you really mean it. It’s more for Alicent, who is watching you from over on the bed. She looks very tired. If you said something less kind, she may cry.

Alicent smiles. “Thank you, princess. Nurse—bring him to me, please.”

She doesn’t mean Brella. There is another woman here, Gwenys, who Lord Hightower and Septa Marlow assigned to help give Aegon milk and take care of him when Alicent cannot. Gwenys comes and picks up the baby, walking over to give him to Alicent. She rocks him in her arms which doesn’t stop him from crying, but she still keeps on bouncing him softly. He is very unhappy.

Now that Alicent is holding Aegon, you know that she’ll forget you are there. Ever since Papa told you and ’Nyra that he was in Alicent’s belly, neither of them have had much time for you. It feels like all the people in the keep—from Papa and Alicent and Lord Hightower to the servants and maids and stableboys—have been more excited for the baby than they ever were for you. The only person who has remembered you is ’Nyra, and so you are with her on most days. It sometimes makes you sad, because it really was very fun to play pretend that Alicent was your mama for a while, but ’Nyra says that it wasn’t going to last, anyway.

“She is to have her own child to care for, now,” she told you in the days after learning about the new baby. “You were good practice—but you aren’t her blood, not really. Not like you and I. Her son will be born, and you’ll be given to a nurse or a septa to raise.” When you cried, she bent down and wiped away your tears. “It doesn’t make her a bad person,” she said quietly. “But this is the way of the world, sister. Men and women, kings and queens… they all want sons. Us daughters must stick together, yes?”

’Nyra was right. At first, Alicent tried to keep pretending to be like your mama. But then, the baby made her very ill, so she stopped asking you to come to break your fast so you wouldn’t have to see her being sick into the pail by her bed. Then, she spent so much time sleeping that she didn’t have the energy to come outside with you, or to dance with you, and soon, the only time you would see her was at suppertime. Even that wasn’t always. And now the baby is here, you don’t think she will be going back to the way it used to be.

Maybe that is why he feels like such a stranger to you. At least with baby Baelon, you got to feel him kicking in Mama’s tummy. Aegon wasn’t here for so long, and then all of a sudden, he was. He is. You don’t know him at all. He’s just a baby, come to take your papa and almost-mama away from you like all the rest.

Brella’s hand on your shoulder is what helps you walk towards the door, Alicent and Aegon staying in the room behind you. With your back turned, it’s easier to pretend that Alicent is very sad by you leaving.

The more moons pass, the more faded Mama’s face is in your memory. You try to hold onto the way her eyes would crinkle at the corners when she smiled, or how her hair would curl a bit like yours after her bath, or the way she’d smell like roses when she hugged you tight. It slips away, out of reach. Putting rose oil in your bath helps you, but only a little bit—and the longer that Mama is gone, the less you can remember of her.

Papa doesn’t like to talk about her. When you ask him, he just spins the ring on his finger around and says, “Another time, perhaps.” You know that ‘another time’ really means ‘never’.

There is no one else in the keep that really knew her like you and your family knew her, except ’Nyra. She tells you stories sometimes, but you don’t ask a lot because she usually likes to tell the ones that have you in them. When she finishes, she always smiles and asks, “Do you remember?” You never can, and it leaves you feeling like someone has scooped out all your insides.

So, Mama fades, and becomes part of that place in your mind where the things that are being forgotten go. Even though you try and try and try, there is nothing that can stop the forgetting. One day, you think she might be nothing more than a quiet sort of sadness, like looking out the window at the rain and wondering why it makes your chest hurt so much.

Seeing Alicent with Aegon is the only thing that reminds you of her. Even though Alicent’s hair is red where Mama’s was silver, and Aegon is loud and angry where you are quiet and shy, the way that she kisses his cheeks or hums little songs under her breath to him makes you think of how Mama would do the same for you. He doesn’t seem to be very happy when she does these things. If it were you in his place, you know you’d be better than him. You wish she’d realise that.

It seems like no time at all goes by when Alicent is with child again, meaning she’s going to have another baby. If it is anything like Aegon, you do not think you’ll like it very much. Sometimes, you feel very naughty for it, but you cannot help how he makes you feel. All he wants to do is make a fuss and take everyone’s attention, and he keeps crying and being naughty even as Alicent’s belly grows bigger and bigger with your new brother or sister.

When Helaena is born, Papa and Lord Hightower aren’t as pleased as they were with Aegon. You can tell because, while they are both in the room when you come to meet her, neither one is looking at her as she lays in the cradle. They had both been looking down at Aegon last time. You think it is because Helaena is a girl, like you and ’Nyra. You decide that you have to love her if they won’t.

She is a quiet baby, but so still that it makes Gwenys worry and worry, even though all she is doing is lying in her cradle and staring straight up. Maybe she knows how rude her big brother is, you think, and she wants to do and be all the things he isn’t.

You weren’t allowed to hold Aegon because he was so disagreeable, which means he would probably have screamed and cried if you did. He still screams and cries, which is why Alicent has to spend all her days with him even though she’s just had a second baby, so Helaena is by herself with Gwenys most hours.

Helaena isn’t like Aegon. This time, Gwenys has you sit in a chair with a pillow under your arm and brings the baby to you. “Mind her head,” she says, tugging your arm forward so that Helaena fits nicely in your arms. “There we go.”

She is a big baby, round and heavy and warm, but you don’t mind because she gazes up at you with large blue eyes that look like they might turn purple when she gets older. The hairs she has on her head—and there aren’t many, not like Aegon had—are silver, and you know that she will look very much like you when she has grown more. When you stroke a finger over the skin on her hand, her whole fist grabs onto it, strong even though she is so young. It’s like she knows who you are, even without any words being said.

You wonder if this is how ’Nyra felt when she met you—a burning that tingles all through your arms and legs, not in a way that hurts, no, but in a way that makes you want to squeeze tight and never let go.

Helaena doesn’t cry. She falls asleep while you’re holding her, her face turned into you so that you can feel her tiny breaths through your dress. It is special and warm and love-feeling like Alicent used to be, like Mama was when she was not-dead. The hurt goes far away, still there but not so much, not so heavy in your chest.

For a little while, the sadness—of forgetting Mama, of being forgotten by so many others—fades away, too.

When you are five summers old, you have to say goodbye to Brella.

All the while you are breaking your fast, she looks like she is about to start crying. Even though you wonder why, you don’t ask. When someone cries, it means that something bad has happened. So much bad has already happened, and you don’t know if you want to hear any more. You eat in quiet, scooping porridge into your mouth while the sound of sniffles fills the room. The taste of honey would make you feel happy, but not when Brella is so upset. Your food sinks to the bottom of your belly like one of the hot bricks you sometimes get under your blankets when it’s very cold at night, only there’s nothing nice about it. It’s hard and rough and makes you feel sick.

After you have finished every bite—you have to eat all of it, or you don’t get to play—Brella takes you by the hand and leads you to the chair. “There is… there is something I have to tell you,” she says, slow and shaky.

I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know. You wish that you were like ’Nyra, that you could say the words out loud—but you cannot. You don’t want to know, but you say nothing, and you wait for whatever bad thing is coming to show itself.

“I…” Brella swallows and looks down at your hands, still holding onto each other even though you are sitting and there is no need. “Tell me again how old you are, princess.”

“Five.” It’s a very small number, but you are still proud because you’re almost a big girl now.

Brella laughs, nodding. “That’s right. Five. My goodness. How time flies!”

You find that silly. Time doesn’t fly. It isn’t a thing-you-can-touch, and only things-you-can-touch can fly, like dragons or birds or insects. Still, you try not to show your thinking on your face as Brella squeezes your hand tighter.

“Being five summers old is a very important milestone when you’re a prince or princess,” she says. “Do you know why?”

“No,” you say. “Why?”

Here, she stops. “It… It means—gods, I don’t know if I can say it.”

“Well, then. It appears that I must,” comes a voice from the door.

You turn. Septa Marlow stands with her hands joined in front of her, her mouth pinched into a line so small it is like it has disappeared from her face. Her grey wimple makes her skin look just as colourless. She steps forward, and the sound of her shoes touching the ground seems as loud as thunder.

“You are of an age to begin your lessons, princess. Thus, it is time for your nurse”—she looks at Brella and her lip curls, though you cannot tell if she’s happy or angry—“to depart, and for me to take over your care.”

The sick feeling gets worse, and you wonder if you might bring up all your food from how bad the pains are in your belly. “But—but Brella will still stay, though? For Aegon and Helaena?”

Septa Marlow huffs. “There is no need, silly child. Their nurse has already been appointed, and Gwenys will suffice for any future children borne by the queen. Brella is to collect her things and return to the Vale.”

Brella has taught you some of the places on the map that shows Papa’s kingdom. You live in King’s Landing, which is in the Crownlands, and it is at the bottom of the map. The Vale is where Mother—Mother, not Mama, Mama is for babies and I am not a baby anymore, you have to keep telling yourself—came from, that it is a bit up and to the side from the Crownlands. It isn’t that far in the drawings, but Brella says that maps show a smaller picture of what is really a very, very long distance.

If Brella has to return to the Vale, it means she will be very, very far away.

You think you might be frozen, like ice. You cannot say anything. All that you can think, over and over, is no, no, no, please, not Brella, no, no, no. The fire-burn of tears warms behind your eyes, but you know that you cannot let Septa see you cry. She’ll think you are weak.

Brella sniffles. “I can write to you,” she says, pulling you closer to her. “And, when you’re old enough, you can write to me. How about that?”

You nod, but her words don’t make you feel better. Paper isn’t the same as a person, not really. Even if she puts letters on paper and sends them to you, it won’t be like one of her hugs or the way she laughs when you miss a dance step or fall over in the grass. It won’t smell like her or look like her. It won’t make you feel safe like she does.

She will turn not-real like Mother. Only, maybe it is worse—because you’ll know that, somewhere a long way away from you, she will be real, but that you cannot have her anymore.

“I don’t want you to go,” is what you say, but it comes out like a whisper, not strong like you wanted it to.

“I know, my darling,” Brella says, hugging you tight so that you can feel her heart beating through her skin and yours. “I know, and I’m so sorry—”

“If you could unhand my charge, nurse.” Septa’s eyebrow is raised. “Although—now that it occurs to me—‘nurse’ is no longer the appropriate moniker, is it?”

Brella glares at her. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Your time here is at an end.” Even though she looks like she’s trying not to show her feelings, Septa lifts her chin in the air like ’Nyra used to when she would win at cyvasse against Alicent. “Say your goodbyes.”

“What—here? Now?” Brella’s mouth is open like she’s very surprised. “I’d thought the princess would be coming to see me off at the harb—”

“That is not a good idea. She is too… attached.” Septa says it like it is a curse. “A public display of histrionics does not a respectable princess make, no matter her juvenility.” You have no idea what most of these words mean, but the way they make Brella sink in her seat cannot be a good thing.

She tucks your hair behind your ears as she looks down at you, her eyes wet. “Be good,” she says, very soft so that Septa cannot hear them well. “Make sure you write to me, yes?”

She brushes her thumbs over your cheeks—out, in, out, in—the way she does when she really means ‘I love you’.

“Please stay,” you whisper, trying not to let your lower lip wobble like it wants to so badly. “Please don’t go.”

Brella hugs you again, her whole body shaking. Your face is smushed up against her shoulder, the smell of her herness filling your nose with so much warm. You wonder if, by clinging on tight, you can stop her from leaving. She cannot leave. She is what you have left now that Mam—Mother is gone, now that Papa has Alicent and ’Nyra has Papa and Uncle has his war somewhere away from you. She cannot leave. She cannot.

It feels like she has been holding on for forever and also for no time at all when she lets go, stands up, and walks away without a word. The door shuts.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Is it worse or better, watching her go away? you wonder through the cold that settles in your body, in your arms and legs, the sharpness of it so much that you feel like shivering even though the sun is shining hot outside. You never saw Mother die. She was here, and then she wasn’t. But you have to watch Brella leave, knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it all the while.

“Dry your tears, girl. ‘Tis about time your coddling came to an end.” Septa pulls you by the shoulder off the chair. Her hand doesn’t feel warm like Brella’s does. Her stare—fixed on you—travels up and down, her mouth crinkling at the corner like she is thinking about something. “Why she was allowed to linger past your name day, I will never understand.”

You cannot think of anything to say, so you keep quiet. It doesn’t seem to make Septa like you any more than she did before, which you don’t think was very much. The tears keep falling, though you try and try to make them disappear.

“Now,” she says, clapping her hands sharply. The loudness of the noise makes you jump. Teardrops shake onto your dress. “We have a long day ahead of us. The queen has requested an update on your progress, so you will be learning no less than three hymns before the end of the sennight. I should like to provide her with”—she looks you up and down again, and this time it seems like she is thinking something unkind about you—“some indication that you will shape up to be a lady of high standing.”

‘I’m a princess, not a lady,’ you want to say. You don’t.

Septa begins striding away, then stops and turns around to face you. “I expect you to follow when I walk, and to acknowledge me when I speak by saying ‘Yes, Septa Marlow’.” She almost spits the words at you. “Understood?”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” It doesn’t sound as strong or as clear as when she said it. You wish you could sound less afraid. Still, she seems to find it good enough. She says nothing afterward, just waits for you to trail along after her.

“Hmph.” She clicks her tongue. Staring down at you again, she adds, “And stand up straight.”

You do as you’re told.

Septa Marlow is as frightfully mean as you always feared.

One thing you learn quickly is that everything you do and say is wrong. When you laugh, it is too unbecoming; when you smile, you show too much teeth; when you walk, you are too hunched over; when you eat, you are too gluttonous. You’re a simpleton when you ask to play with your dolls, so they sit at the foot of your bed slowly being covered by dust; you’re graceless when you try to dance, so you practice after you have been put to bed to try and get better before each morning; you’re impertinent when you say what you’re thinking instead of keeping it to yourself, so you learn to let your thoughts stay inside your head. There is little that she doesn’t pick on and tell you that you need to change.

“Use full words, please!” she says whenever you forget to speak in the proper way that she expects. She always raps her willow switch on the table in front of you after that. Lucky for you, she has not yet used it to hurt you. “It is ‘does not’, not ‘doesn’t’. There is no need to employ such low-class mannerisms as a lady of your standing!”

“Yes, Septa Marlow.” There is no point trying to tell her that she’s wrong.

It isn’t all bad, though. Having Septa Marlow take over means that you are now expected to learn all sorts of things, and a lot of it is very interesting. New words, new houses, new hymns, new dances—you start to learn how to sew, how to put letters together to read them, how to count numbers and add and take them away to make different numbers. Septa says that there are so many things a noblewoman like you needs to be able to do by the time she is ready to be married, so that she can run her husband’s household and take care of him and her future children. That is a long time from now, but practice makes perfect.

The only time you are not with Septa is when you are with your family, like today.

Because Aegon has lived past being a baby—and Septa says that babies die a lot from the weather or from being sick or from being fed too much or too little or sometimes for no reason at all—Papa has announced that everyone must go on a hunt to celebrate his name day. You have to sit in the wheelhouse with he and Alicent and ’Nyra and Aegon and three other nurses, but not Helaena. She’s only a baby still, so she must stay in the keep with Gwenys.

It is not a very fun ride. Being in a wheelhouse with them all means putting ’Nyra very close to Alicent, whose belly has grown big with a baby again. Lots of people have lots to say about how many babies Alicent has had since she married Papa, and most of it is not very nice towards your mother. She could only have two girls, and it took her a long time to have you after ’Nyra.

Papa thinks there is another boy in Alicent’s belly. You hope not. Aegon is loud and rude. You think it might be worse if there were two of him instead of just one.

“… whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the kingswood,” Papa is saying. You swing your legs back and forth, though you must stop each time you roll over a big bump in the road. You stay quiet, because Septa says a lady does not talk unless she is asked a question.

A very big bump in the road makes Alicent’s smile fall.

“Should you be travelling in such condition?” ’Nyra asks. She sounds worried, even though she is no longer friends with Alicent.

“The maester said that being out in nature would do me well,” is what Alicent says back.

Papa starts talking while he finishes giving Aegon a sip from his cup. You wonder if it’s wine. “Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late, and make me a proud grandsire.” He is smiling, perhaps at the thought of it.

‘No, I will not,’ the look on ’Nyra’s face seems to say. You cannot help but agree with her. Having babies seems like such a tiring thing to do.

“It’s not so bad.” Alicent has to speak louder to be heard over the rattling of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the horses. “The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss. Helaena, too.”

The nurse who is holding Aegon in her lap—Delia, you think her name is—waves a toy dragon in front of him. He smacks at it with his hands, frowning. You would never treat your toys like that.

“You should ride out with me today,” Papa says to ’Nyra. “Join in the chase, while you”—his eyes go to you—“sit about with your lady stepmother. Hm?”

“Okay, Papa,” you say quietly. Proper ladies do what their fathers tell them to.

’Nyra’s hand finds yours. “I’d rather not. The boars squeal like children when they’re being slaughtered.” From the way her fingers squeeze yours and her stare fixes on Aegon, you know she doesn’t mean you when she says that. “I find it discomfiting.”

“It’s a hunt, Rhaenyra.” Papa smiles. It is a careful sort of smile, not a happy one. Aegon’s yell distracts him for a moment, but he is quick to return to speaking to ’Nyra. “How would you like to participate?” he asks her.

“I’d be leaving my sister alone with the vultures of the realm,” ’Nyra says, “so I’m not sure why I must.”

Trying to understand what everyone means by what they say is very difficult—you aren’t sure if she’s saying that the ladies coming along are vultures, or if she’s trying to say Alicent is. You don’t even know what a vulture is, so you aren’t sure if it is a bad or good thing to be.

“Because you are my eldest daughter. The princess.” Papa looks like he is finding it harder and harder to stop himself from telling ’Nyra off. “And you have duties.”

“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Your sister says it softly, but it is easy enough for you to hear from your place next to her.

Papa doesn’t, though. “I’m sorry?”

Instead of making up a lie or saying that she did not say anything at all, ’Nyra repeats herself louder. It is terribly rude, but you enjoy watching as you have always enjoyed watching her being brave against other people. “As I am ceaselessly reminded.”

“You wouldn’t need to be reminded if you ever attended to them.”

“No one’s here for me!”

Papa doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Neither does Alicent. They both just fall silent along with the nurses. Even Aegon stops making all his annoying noises, instead sitting so still that he could be sleeping if his eyes were not open.

You make sure to hold onto your sister’s hand even tighter. If there is anyone in the whole world who does know what to say, it is you. If only you were brave enough.

‘I understand, ’Nyra,’ you want to say. ‘No one’s here for me, either. No one’s ever here for me.’

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