#and now i have to read and grade an extra 8 papers by morning

[fiona-fififi]

...

[michaellangdonswhore]

warnings: again, smut. put me in a fucking hospital.

word count: 5.5k

----------------------------------------------------------

You were, by far, Jonathan Crane's least favorite student.

You knew it, and it was complete bullshit. You were always on time, always in every class, and always completed the work. You had always had such good grades in every class, but not with him.

While not giving you the worst grade imaginable, you were never able to get over an A-, which pissed you the fuck off. Obviously, to any other normal student studying psychology, they'd take the A-, but not you.

And again, nothing over an A-. There was the frequent B+, sometimes B, and when you really pissed him off he would go as low as a B-.

You've done everything you could to get him to like you. You would ask questions, clearly put extra effort into the homework, and even applied to laboratory studies that he ran. You hated not being liked.

However, at this point in the year, you had given up on trying. You still did everything you were supposed to do, because you wanted a good grade, but you hadn't bothered participating or showing any interest anymore. You had decided to focus more on your other classes. Due to this, you had been working late into the night, causing you to be exhausted for your 8 AM lectures with Crane.

You were exhausted, trying to pay attention. Your head hurt so much for looking at a screen for so long last night.

Crane is flipping through a slideshow, and you find yourself dozing. It's not that this stuff bored you, you had just already learned it back when you took AP Psych your sophomore year of high school.

You snap back into reality when you hear your name being called.

Crane is singling you out with an annoyed expression on his face. You turn red because everyone, all 400 other people in the class, are staring at you.

"I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He puts his hands on his hips.

"No-" You begin.

You're stammering. You normally don't have such a rough time with public speaking, but being downright exhausted and being singled out for nearly falling asleep in class is extremely embarrassing.

He pauses for a moment and stares you down.

You feel as if you were naked, as if you were completely exposed to him. You didn't like him looking at you like that, like he was taking into account every imperfection.

"As I was saying..."

Thank god.

He resumes to what he was talking about before and you're more alert, heart pumping full of humiliation. You're taking notes now, typing quickly and probably annoyingly loud (you can tell because he keeps shooting you small glares every time you hit the spacebar).

Finally, the hour is up and he reminds everyone about the homework due that Friday. You collect your stuff and head out the door. You don't realize, but he watches you leave.

Everything you do irks him.

Maybe it was because your first paper challenged his psychological beliefs, or because your intelligence challenged him in general. But literally everything about you pisses him off.

Your loud typing, your questions that challenges his lectures, how you turn everything in on time, how you flawlessly converse with the other students. He is so desperately waiting for you to slip up.

As previously stated, you were putting less effort than before into his class. He picked up on this. You were turning your papers and chapter readings in the last minute, you weren't asking questions, and you were even falling asleep.

You had three days to complete a portion of the assignments given. You completely forgot about it.

Due to your tiredness and your weakening desire to try for the class, you had forgotten to write down the homework in a planner that you always checked daily.

Crane is a quick grader, and usually he always grades your homework first; more specifically, as soon as you turn it in.

You realized you didn't do the work as soon as you woke up that morning for your 8 AM class. You had never ever missed an assignment. Ever. And you had no time to do it and make it to his class on time. You were freaking the fuck out.

It's okay. Maybe he hasn't graded it yet.

But no. He was such a strict grader. He was harsh.

Whatever. You may as well hope for the best.

To distract yourself from your predicament, you talk to the boy who sits next to you in the class. It's just smalltalk about the workload and about an upcoming test.

You stop talking when Crane clears his throat. You shift back in your seat and open your laptop.

"It's a Friday. It's 8 AM," Crane begins. You think this is going to be the introduction of a psychological speech. "For all 399 of you that did your homework last night, go enjoy your Friday morning."

People being looking around and whispering, not sure if this is a trick, but you know it's not.

You're freaking out. Your heart is racing and you cannot believe that he would actually do this to you. Usually teachers will just give you a bad grade and call it that, but to single you out and have the entire class leave except for you is an all time low.

"I'm not messing with you," Crane continues. "Go. You know who you are."

He's looking at you dead in the eye and you stay put as people slowly get up to leave, looking around to make sure others are doing the same. You avoid his gaze, looking at your computer screen.

Soon enough, everyone is out of the large lecture room, some looking back to see the one person who didn't do their work.

Once the door is shut, and everyone is completely out of sight, Crane locks both of the doors and looks up at you.

"Are you deliberately trying to fail my class?" He questions. "I thought you wanted to be outstanding."

You can't find words to say. He scoffs and moves to his desk, shuffling through papers and bringing out a decently large stack to over to you. It feels like hours pass by as he walks up the steps to you and drops them onto your desk.

You look at them, confused.

"This is the homework that was due at midnight." He explains.

"It's never so much..." You stammer. You can feel his hatred burning into your skin.

"It's what's due next Wednesday, Friday, and the following week too. Let's see if you can get this done by.... hm," He checks his watch. "By the end of the period?"

"All of this?" Your eyes widen.

"When's your next class?" He asks.

"You're my only one today." You continue to avoid his eye contact.

"Then you can stay." He says. "Until you finish all the work."

"But-"

"I can't trust that you'll do it." Crane says, taking a step back from you. "You need to complete it. In front of me."

"Please, Professor," You try to defend yourself. "I've been-"

"I can assume what you've been doing, you've almost fallen asleep in my class." He scoffs.

You feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment over him getting the wrong impression. Does he really think that low of you?

You take a deep breath. You'll just have to deal with this.

"Do you have a pencil?"

He grabs a black pen from his desk and looks up to you, motioning to sit in the front row. Close enough. You swallow your pride and grab your things and the stack of paper, walking down to the seats in the front.

The class itself is an hour, but it took you almost five to complete the amount of homework he gave you. The readings were long, and the quality of work was demanding. You were eager to do well, to prove yourself.

You hate that he hated you.

His eyes were on you the entire time you did your work. The silence was loud, but you pushed through it. You got three weeks of homework done, and proudly put the stack back onto his desk.

"I'll see you Monday, Professor," you smile, then walk away.

After that, you tried harder; harder than you tried compared to every other class you took. You did this, not to get him to like you- but to get back at him with the fact that you knew your shit; you were a good student. You sat in the front, did side research, and spent nights studying for his endless quizzes. And he wanted to fail you to make you stop what you were doing, but you were getting all the answers right and you both knew that. He wouldn't want you taking anything to the next level.

With you in the front, it made it harder for him to not be distracted by you. Mid speech he would find himself locking eyes with you, disrupting his words and leaving him stammering for a brief moment. Ever since you've upped the eye contact, you've gained more control of the situation.

You arrived in class that Wednesday; the situation in which Crane forced you to stay and do two weeks worth of work in front of him occurred around three weeks ago. You're sitting in the front in between two empty seats; no one likes to sit in the front in Crane's class. It's usually only filled with around three to four people. Crane isn't in class yet, which is weird considering he's always there early, before anyone else even gets there. The class is almost about to begin and he's never been late.

Soon enough, it's one minute after the class is supposed to start and he's still not there. You start feeling antsy, wondering where he is.

Finally, he walks in; two minutes after class is supposed to start. So unlike him.

He places his briefcase on the desk and begins setting up his computer while everyone takes out something to take notes with.

"Now, you all know what I specialize in, I hope," He states, not breaking eye contact with his computer.

He specialized in phobias. Apart from dedicating his time to teaching you, he was a therapist mainly for fears.

"I'm sure we all know what exposure therapy is, correct?" He asks. Pretty much the whole class nods in unison. "Good. For those of you not on the same page, it's the type of therapy which someone is exposed to their fear or trauma."

He begins flipping through his slideshow, giving more and more information and lecturing about it, but you can't help but notice it's an almost bias review.

You're left with homework to write a review on some boring documentary on the history of exposure therapy and a pretty long excerpt of the textbook you all were reading.

So, you did your work and followed all of the instructions. You wrote a review on exposure therapy.

The next Monday, you get to class and you sit in the front row. There's a big stack of paper on Crane's desk, and you assuming that you're getting a pop-quiz, but no, that's not the case.

Crane's waiting for everyone with his shoulder rested on the large stack of papers. Once the time hits 8, he begins.

"I printed out all of your outlines," He begins. "I've made some comments and given some feedback. We'll spend the class working on them."

He starts calling out names and one by one, people receive their papers. You're sort of anxious- you left a pretty negative review on exposure therapy, something that he seemed so passionate about.

"Y/N Y/L/N." He says, saying your voice with more of an annoyed tone than the other students. You get up and grab your paper from his hands, tugging harder due to his firm grip. Clearing his throat, he continues calling out the following names. You go back to your seat, nervous to look at the paper. When you sit and look at it, your stomach dropped.

There's nothing on the front page. Then you look at the second.

See me after class.

There is literally nothing but a see me after class.

Oh my god.

What did I do?

Was he offended at all by what was written? Surely, that wasn't your intention... yes, you wanted to piss him off, but you had some respect for him. You didn't want to actually maybe- make him insecure about his work?

Class seemed to take hours to go by; you didn't even know what to do about your paper. He gave no other feedback other than to see him after class. How were you supposed to work with that?

You looked around at your classmates typing away. You're annoyed that he actually helped them.

See me after class.

At least give me feedback on my fucking paper.

Everyone then realized the time and began to pack up. Crane stood up from his desk and took his glasses off.

"Remember, papers are due Friday!" He manages to get out before people start heading out the door.

You put your things in your bag, trying to act out to your classmates as if you were leaving. You felt so embarrassed. You hated how he kept embarrassing you and how he had the power to do that. It was infuriating. You felt him staring at you as you packed your stuff up, moving slower, nervous that he would call you out.

You took your time, though, waiting till everyone was out of the room.

With everyone else there, you felt so confident. You were one of the smart ones and you at least had witnesses, but alone with him? You were completely inferior. He could quite literally ruin your life with a bad grade and could easily tarnish your image, being the head of Arkham and all that.

"I found your paper quite interesting," He says, emphasizing quite.

"I'm sorry-" you begin. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" He scoffs. "You think you offended me?"

"I just- I know this is what you do, right?" You stammer.

"I'm interested in your point of view." He says. "About the pain, how it's long term. I'm interested as to why you seem so against it."

You shrug.

"What's your biggest fear, Y/N?" He asks you. "What is it? Failure?"

"I'm not trying to fail."

"Oh, yes, you've proven that." He clicks his tongue. "Sitting in the front, turning things in quickly, wearing shorter skirts. Don't think I don't notice what you're doing."

"What?"

"You write intensely about the struggle that people with PTSD-"

"Wait," you interrupt him. "What did you say?"

"I'm trying to discuss with you what you've written."

"Professor, my clothing choices have nothing to do with me wanting to do well in this class," you say. Now you're offended.

Instead of apologizing, which is what you think any decent person would do, he looks you up and down and scoffs.

"You're wearing tights."

"What?"

"Surely, those must be uncomfortable. You're not wearing those to satisfy yourself," he says.

You grow red, and angry.

He keeps humiliating you.

"Who are you trying to impress?"

"Will you stop?" you groan in frustration. "Why don't you just let me get by like you let everyone else get by? I do everything you ask!"

"I want to know who you're trying to impress."

"I'm not trying to impress anyone," you hiss, finally looking up at his crystal eyes.

You know it's disrespectful, but you turn to walk away and to leave.

"No, no. We're not done."

You ignore him, walking towards the door, but he quickly beats you to it, shutting it and locking you in.

"I said we're not done." He said, completely composed. "Sit."

"I want to leave."

"Your biggest fear is failure, yes?" He questions. You don't nod or shake your head, but it is pretty much true; you hate failing. You need to succeed and be good at everything you do. "Sit. I can very much make that fear come true."

"I do everything," you repeat. "Everything. I do it on time, I'm here always, I'm prepared for everything."

"Can you just fucking-" He pushes you down onto the seat next to his desk. "Sit?"

You weren't expecting him to physically force you to sit down, but you could pick up on the pent up frustration he had with you.

"The off the cut sweater, no bra-" He points out.

You weren't wearing a bra. You were surprised he had picked up on the fact- you could've been wearing a strapless, but no. He was right.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" He whispers.

You're flushed.

What the fuck was going on?

You thought he hated you.

And yeah, you knew he was an attractive man, that's what made this whole thing pretty exciting, but you never thought you would be sat down with him leaning over you saying things like this.

"Let me see."

"Professor?"

He grabs you off the chair and pushes you onto his desk, spreading your legs for you. Everything was moving too quickly; this all felt like a fever dream.

He tugs at the middle of your tights, ripping them open to expose your- and he was right- bare pussy. He lets out a chuckle.

"You're not trying to impress anyone?" He questions, again, peering up at you.

You try moving your thigh to cover yourself, but he forcefully keeps them open.

"Who was that boy you used to sit next to... Tim, is it?"

To be honest, you really didn't know that kids name. He was just someone you sat next to out of habit since you had picked that seat the first day of classes. But you hadn't been sitting with him for weeks at that point.

"Is Tim who you're trying to impress?"

"No!" You argue, still trying to fight the grip of his hand off your thigh. "I told you... I'm not trying to impress anyone."

"Hm." He says, placing two fingers on exactly the right spot of your clit, slowly rubbing in circles. . "You're not even trying to impress me?"

You stay silent, for a brief moment.

"Not in this way..."

But it's past that point now. He's already touching you, rubbing faster, and your exposed pussy is laid out right in front of his face. You're embarrassed and self conscious. He's too close for comfort.

"Yeah?"

The fingers once on your clit are now entering you. You still can't comprehend the situation.

But for him, he was putting you in your place. It was enough of the looks in class, the semi sexual and revealing clothing, the obvious need for his approval and to show him she was as smart- maybe even smarter than him himself.

"Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" He asks, using the two fingers to pump your pussy.

It's out of your control but you're getting wetter the longer and faster he fingers you. It's beginning to show, beginning to drip down his fingers and onto his wrists. He notices this, then stops and looks.

"Disgusting," He huffs before licking his fingers clean.

"That's disgusting," You repeat at him, glaring a little, but you can't help but want his finger- more of him back inside you. You feel empty, desperate for his hands back on you.

"I don't see you asking me to stop."

You're silent, again.

He smiles, kneeling back down and spreading your legs open again, this time with a more forceful grip. He doesn't use his fingers this time, devouring you with his hot mouth and basically digging in.

He was really good at this. To be fair, no one had ever actually eaten you out, but you had never felt anything like it. He moves his fingers towards you again and fucks you with them as he sucks and licks at your clit. He was freakishly good. You felt something drip down your thigh; you didn't know if you were sweating or if you were fucking leaking. By the sound of it, probably the second one.

He removes his fingers and dives deep into your pussy more, making obscure sounds as he does so. He stops and looks up at you.

"Take your shirt off. I want to see your tits," he demands.

You comply; he's already seen a lot.

"Fuck, they're perfect." He says, now standing over you, playing with them and poking and twisting at your hardened nipple. He's pushing his hardened clothed dick into your bare pussy, giving you some friction has he sucks on your neck and plays with your nipples.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, putting you on your stomach and leaning you over the desk.

He kneels back down, eating your pussy again; he can't get enough of it. He can't get enough of the small whines escaping your throat and the way you leak and how you shake when it feels good- or when the pleasure becomes too much.

He adds his fingers in again, this time three, and you let out a louder, but not too loud, moan than usual.

"Professor-"

"You can take it." He assures you. "You better take it. If you can't take this how can you take my cock?"

You just weren't used to it- you had been fucked, but not for so long. He keeps licking and devouring your clit while pumping in and out of you. You feel so full- on the brink. You feel hot, and god you feel good. You don't even realize it, but you're riding his mouth and his fingers.

"You know, I wasn't going to let you come," Crane begins between breaths, keeping his face close to your pussy so you could still feel him. "But now that I think about it... I want you cum drunk on my dick. I wanna make you cum over and over again until you're a fucking mess."

He goes back to sloppily and messily eating you out again. It was so dirty; the noise, what was leaking out of you. You then felt that familiar feeling and you couldn't stop it; no matter how wrong this felt or how humiliated and exposed you felt, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning like a mess and cumming all over his mouth.

You needed a second to recover, but he stood up and grinded his clothed dick against you. You weren't ready for the friction, wincing over the contact with you sensitive clit. He grabbed your neck and pulls your back to him, kissing you, continuing to grind.

He unbuttons his pants and undoes his boxers, his large thick cock springing out, begging to be touched. He pushes one of your legs up onto the desk to give him better access to you.

"You're fucking soaked," He says as he teases himself some more, collecting what's came out of you as some lubricant.

He keeps rubbing your clit and the outside with his dick, back and forth. It feels good, but it's not enough. He pushes harder with his dick on your clit, continuing to hump you.

"Professor, please," you look back at him, trying to guilt him into giving in and fucking you, but it's not that easy.

"Shut up, and let me take my time." He says. He continues this for a little, before getting a new idea. "I want you to cum on my cock without me fucking you."

"What?"

He pulls you towards him then on his lap on the chair next to his desk.

"Grind on it." He demands, holding you in place by your hips. "Get it soaked."

You hesitate, but he's impatient. He pushes you down and moves your hips for you until you begin to do it with him. You grind your pussy against his cock, stimulating your clit once more. It didn't feel as good as his mouth, and god it probably didn't feel as good as his dick would feel inside you, but it felt good. And you were so fucking horny, you were on the brink of cumming again.

"Yeah, yeah, you got it," he praised you, rocking your hips back and forth. He digs his nails into your hips, definitely leaving some cuts in your skin, but you didn't care. You were so close. He begins to bounce up, pretending to thrust into you, adding to your pleasure. "That's it, you- oh fuck, yes, cum on my fucking dick."

You're dripping onto him as you ride out your high, clenching around nothing. It seems to last for a while, wrapped up in all the pleasure combined with his dirty talk.

He angles his cock towards your entrance and pushes into you- he feels hot and he's sensitive due to teasing himself. But no- he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to put you in your fucking place. And even if he does cum, he has no issue continuing and even fucking a baby into you. Then, you'd have to walk around with the shame.

He gently picks you up, but then harshly slams you up and down repeatedly onto his cock. You've had no time to readjust after cumming a second time, and you were extremely sensitive.

"Slower, professor, please," You cry, burying your face into his shoulder. "It hurts..."

"Shut the fuck up."

He grabs you by the neck and pounds up into you, rubbing your clit as well to add to the sensation.

Yes, it feels good, but it's so overwhelming you can't help but tear up. Crane notices this and it goes straight to his head.

"Are you fucking crying?" He scoffs. "Fucking crying for me?"

He picks you up, keeping you firmly attached to his dick, and throws you over the desk again. He's fucking you deeper and at an animalistic pace; like he fucking needs this.

"Keep crying for me. Keep fucking crying."

He harshly grips your tits, twisting your nipple in the process.

"Fucking perfect tits, perfect pussy, perfect everything. You fucking strive for perfection- but you're letting me fucking ruin you. Is this how far you'd go for a good grade?" He laughs, fingers deep in your clit.

You can only moan in response, but this doesn't satisfy him.

"Fucking answer me."

"Yes," you cry out.

"Yeah, you're just a fucking whore who'd sleep her way to the top if that's what it took." He says, tugging your hair back, your sweaty bodies pressed closer together.

His words are filthy, but you're fucking cumming again.

He's laughing, mocking you for doing so.

"You fucking like being treated like a bitch, don't you?" He says, fucking you through your third orgasm. You don't know how he's not tired. As you expect, he doesn't give you a fucking break. You're worn out at this point; almost numb.

"Professor, I don't know-"

"You don't know if you can keep going?" He questions. "Yeah, you can. I'll fucking make you keep going. What was that... your third orgasm? Let me see if I can double that."

"Professor..."

"I'll stop when you give me three more."

You feel like you're going to pass out; the pleasure had become too much, but you were so fucking sensitive that a fourth one had come quickly. Your pussy was so swollen and red, but he had not gotten off of you.

"You're fucking..." He brings you back to the chair and places you on top of him. "You're fucking leaking all over me, fucking hell. So wet... do you hear yourself?"

You could hear yourself. It was disgusting. It was filthy.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks. He slows down his pace, and you know he's teasing you. "Embarrassed that you're whoring yourself out to me like this? To a professor that so clearly disliked you? This is what you do for my approval."

He slows his pace some more.

"Would you do this for any other professor, Y/N? Let them fuck your pussy till you have nothing left to give? Bounce on their cock the way you do for me?"

"No, professor," you shake your head, trying to bounce faster but he keeps your hips in place, restricting you. He had succeeded- made you cum drunk and fucked you stupid, but this wasn't enough. He needed more. "No, no, only you. I'd only do this for you."

You're squirming around on his dick. He's stopped moving at this point, just staying in you.

"Stop fucking moving around. Don't you want to impress me?"

"Have I not?" You begin to regain some of your strength with this somewhat of a break he was giving you. "Have I not impressed you, professor?"

You give him puppy eyes as you gain some control of the situation, his grip loosing and you bouncing on his cock at a pace you like.

"I want to impress you, professor," you say seductively. "I want to- fuck!"

You start chasing your high again, you didn't even realize that you'd ever be able to cum this many times.

"Fuck!" You repeat. Crane is letting you take control, enjoying the show of you riding his cock, using him for your pleasure. "Do you like this, professor? Do you like when I fucking bounce on your dick like this?"

You had never heard yourself like this, or ever expected to talk like this. You had never felt so confident.

"Have you imagined this professor?" You continue. He's obviously at a loss for words, not expecting this side of you. "Have you imagined fucking me? Have you imagined bending me over your desk and eating me out till I came all over your face? My tits? Putting me in my fucking place?"

His hands found your hips again and he's helping you ride his cock. He's loving the words coming from your mouth.

"God, I think you wanted this more than I did," you laugh. You're so close. You wanted him to talk, but his reactions to your words were enough for you. "Make me cum again, professor, please. I- fuck!"

He's pushing into you and bouncing you up and down quickly and you're riding out your fifth orgasm.

He pulls you off of him and lays you out on the desk again, licking up your sore pussy. He hums while doing this, telling you how you taste so good. You're so- so sensitive, though, and you can't help but cumming on his tongue again not even seconds later, letting out a string of incoherent words.

That's six.

You look at him, but he's positioning himself in you.

"You said six-"

"I say a lot of things. I want you to cum on my cock again." He says, kissing your neck. "Last time. I promise."

He pumps into you, at a softer, but still quick pace. You feel so incredibly numb, but he still manages to work you up quickly while fondling your breasts and pressing hot kisses into your neck.

"Ah- fuck." He pants, fucking himself into you. "Fuck... gonna cum in you. Want you to fucking carry me around for the rest of the fucking day."

You don't object- your hearing was probably a little impaired at this point.

"Yeah, you want that, don't you. It's like a fucking award to you."

He's holding you closer now. You both are so sweaty and sticky.

You're about to cum again, but he grabs your throat tightly.

"Fucking wait for me. Don't be impatient."

As hard as it is, you listen to him. He speeds up, becoming sloppy before he cries, "Fuck, cum! Cum all over my fucking- ahhh, yes, fuck."

He shoots hot loads into you as you clench around him, milking more out of him. He doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you until every last bit of his seed has marked you. Even after he's done, he gets a few more strokes in before he pulls out, showing the combination of you and him leaking out of your pussy. He pushes you onto the floor and presents his dick in front of him.

"Clean it."

You obey, wrapping your mouth on his cock and licking away the filth that the two of you made. He groans and pulls you off of him.

"You'll get me hard again." He says.

He puts all his clothes back on and hands you your sweater. Your nipples are hard, poking through them now.

"I look forward to your next draft of your review." Crane says calmly, as if what just happened didn't happen.

"You- um..." you stammer, brushing your fingers through your hair. "You didn't give me any notes."

"I didn't?" He questioned. You shook your head. "Well, stay again after class next session. I'll go over it, personally, with you."

"Oh." You blush. "This wasn't a one time thing?"

"Y/N..." Crane looks at the floor. "I'm your professor."

You felt awkward. Of course it was a one time thing; how could it not be?

But then he looks back up at you.

"You don't want to fail my class, do you?"

[taoamitq]

10th grade - So when the teacher calls me disrespectful is a life lesson?

Master List

Ok heres some background So i had a group presentation due the next morning and i was on the slides the night before and barely anything is done one of my group mates is on it now doing their work but i didnt have one of my groupmates number and the other isnt responding to my texts and if i called it went straight to voice mail

The Night Before:

i was literally going to have a breakdown i did not want to go to school the next day and i didnt want to do their work cause wtf i literally could not and we couldnt ask for extra time cause the presentation is in time with when we are reading that chapter (it was a book report thingy for Lord of the Flies

i had been debating just going to the wellness center but then i thought i might get in trouble but i could not do this with my then state of mind much less talk in front of the class the next day even if its just one slide

I still had so much shit to do that night. I had to clean the kitchen, take a shower, eat dinner, and get my stuff ready for school the next day.

i thought ill do my part and skip the presentation and hide in the wellness center and maybe talk with the school social worker or counselor

but then again idl what my teacher will think i could have said "oh i had a breakdown last night" but like i didnt want to admit that

The Day of the Incident:

My presentation was at 8:30 sharp and i had been running late. So i got to school 10 minutes late to class accidently missing the presentation.

My teacher comes up to me and starts saying how me being late was disrespectful to my group while the classroom was silent do you know how embarrassing that was and how yk hurt i felt after that.

I was speed walking to the wellness center after that cause i needed the break i was literally crying as i was walking.

I spent a good 40 minutes in the wellness center sobbing and talking to a counselor and that was a terrible decision.

My Rating: 5/10 she said what happened was a “reality check” how is embarrassing a student in front of a class a “reality check” and she was mean

for my next class i was about to pass out and my paper was getting blurry from my lack of sleep

[bluekazzoo]

tw: EDs, body image, just the entire medical system for mental health being fucked, breif suicidal mention, medication

I could go on such a long fuckin rant about how adhd and other disorders are treated by the medical system. never mind im gonna go on a rant I have WORDS.

for one in countries such as Norway there are actually benifits to getting diagnosed, like money for lost items, discounts on pools and other physical activity sites and many others that go beyond just having more time for tests. don't get me wrong its great and I completely agree with it. despite how much I hate that "physical activity fixes adhd" bullshit it can help and having that accessible isn't a want its a need for many in order to function, making people pay for stuff they need is fundamentally wrong.

the problem comes when the diagnosis's take years (in my experience) to be confirmed and overall are harder to get. for example when I was 7ish my school pshychologist ran a ton of tests on me over months and concluded I almost certainly had dyslexia. despite this they refused to diagnose me until I was 11 because I was "so young". so for the majority of the time I spent in grade school I could have had extra help learning how to read and say what you will about "excuses" it would have been harder for teachers to reprimand me for a learning disability they didn't know I had or didn't care about because it wasn't in paper until I was 11.

and then there's the whole thing with meds, Jesus fucking christ do I have beef with the system for meds. so, pretty much my entire family has diagnosed adhd now but growing up I had the clearest symptoms was the first to get diagnosed, hence causing the rest of my family to put two and two together and get tested themselves. I was also the first to be put on medication for adhd. it was fucking hell, I tried about five different meds and because I was a child (around 8) the doctors kept giving me new meds no matter how much I hated it.

they only listened to my protests once I developed an ED at 11 in part due to the meds I was on. at this point a lot of my family was also on meds and they were all doing great. at the worst point I count get out of bed in the morning because of malnourishment and it took them a while to let me go off the meds despite declining weight. then they concluded it was because of body image despite me denying it and having been skinny my entire life. yes, I hated the way I looked but only when I was so skinny that the first thing people would say was "are your parents feeding you enough?" or "I wish you would take some of my fat, you look like you need it". instead of, oh I don't know, therapy that I was asking for? they prescribed me protein shakes that I hated even more than the meds.

anyways im not gonna go into the whole ptsd and suicidal shit but the way they handled that was somehow an even more of a catastrophic train wreak than any of my other horror stories from the medical system. oh god and then there's the shit from when I was five, ohhh boy.

much later I got diagnosed with ocd, and Ive forgotten the source but apparently it gets worse with adhd meds. I have been showing symptoms since first fucking grade and they didnt test me, instead putting me on meds that actively worsened my mental health.

the kicker is that while I was over here figuratively getting meds shoved down my throat other kids with adhd were being deprived of meds that could have changed their life. I was made to feel that not being on meds was an inconvenience to anyone around me.

moral of the story is that

a) LISTEN TO THE PERSON WHOS TAKING THE MEDS, I don't give a shit if they are a child, listen to them when it comes to how they are being treated. especially when its not life threatening. its their body, its their mind, its their choice.

b) a lot of childrens practitioners are idiots

c) don't underestimate or ignore what someone is going through, no matter their age

d) the diagnosis system is fucked

disclamer: this isn't a research essay its my account of things that happened to me, I don't have a phd on this, but I do have a first hand experience and a fuckton of trauma from it

...ngl, the fact that ADD and ADHD got condensed into ADHD when the hyperactivity specifically is part of the reason so many girls were simply not diagnosed drives me up the wall.

It's not that the whole name isn't bullshit, because it is. It describes the way people outside of our experience perceive us, as opposed to the difficulties that are part of our lived experience. Even from an outside standpoint, it's recognizable that "deficit" is not always the issue with our attention... but that's beside the point.

When psychiatrists noticed that ADD and ADHD were basically the same thing... they chose to favor the typical male presentation in the literal naming of the condition, and in doing so condemned a generation of girls (and other afab people) to suffer through being told they're so smart, they just don't apply themselves enough, that it's a personal failing they can't regularly turn in homework, that they're lazy for waiting until the last minute to work on an assignment... because those girls weren't hyperactive. Those girls just kind of drifted off and daydreamed in classes. Those girls doodled or wrote stories all through their school years, and functioned measurably worse when a teacher noticed they were doing that and tried to stop them. Those girls are now so many of my adult friends who are now being diagnosed with ADHD as adults, because the hyperactive part of the diagnosis almost solely applies to children (CHILDREN, when, I might note, this is a lifelong condition) who are socialized male.

We need a whole other name for the condition, because attention deficit is not our problem at all. But my god, the hyperactivity part actually ruined my life for so many years, because I had no way to explain to my dad why it physically hurt me to be bored, why I had to read or write or doodle in class in order to keep my focus, why I excelled in tests but failed at homework so my grades sucked because of that. No one even considered I might have ADHD, all through my childhood, but earlier this year I had the opportunity to go through all my grade school reports, and they could not be MORE CLEARLY talking about a child with ADHD. "Pleasure to have in class", "assignments not complete", "does not pay attention in class", "Birdie is a highly intelligent child with specific and unique needs" (I would LOVE more follow-up on that one, from third grade, do not have it). But I was a quiet and reserved child, so obviously I couldn't have ADHD.

I'm legitimately angry about it in retrospect. I went off my Adderall for a couple months recently, as an adult who only started taking Adderall as an adult, and it completely fucked up my ability to function. For years I was just out there as a teenager struggling through high school and college entirely unmedicated because as a child I was too withdrawn to be diagnosed. Fucking wild and also infuriating.

[gyllenhaalstories]

YOU WON’T PLAY, YOU’RE NO FUN — PROF!CHRIS

summary: chris evans is your professor with whom you’ve had an affair with since the beginning of the semester. you meet with him over zoom with your fellow teammates to discuss your project, but you can’t seem to get into the right mindset. instead of providing the group with clever comments and ideas, all you do is test the limits of chris’ patience and self control.

warnings: don’t have sex with your prof please, mentions of online classes, smut including: established dom/sub relationship & teacher/student relationship (abuse of power used strictly as a joke, they are both 18+ and consensual), degradation, masturbation & mutual masturbation, edging. MINORS DON’T READ NOR INTERACT.

word count: 1500

notes: rail me daddy :) i’m a hoe for teacher/student if you can’t tell already. i do keep it vague by not mentioning any majors, don’t worry! it’s my first time writing for chris, so please, be kind!!! i hope you enjoy reading this mess!!!! ily <3

gif credits: capsgrantrogers blessing us with this low quality webcam goodness.

“Miss /Y/L/N, would you mind staying a little longer? I need to talk to you.” Chris’ voice resonated as your classmates went quiet before they waved their cameras goodbye and left the two of you alone.

Uh oh.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” By the time you were done with your question, you noticed that his face was frozen. “Mister Evans! Chris?! I think there’s an issue I can’t — hear you.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. You seriously needed to get that Internet connection checked. You had your hand on your laptop, ready to close it up when you heard the familiar noise of a video call, but this time it was a private conversation.

“Don’t want anybody to walk in on us, right?” Chris winked and smirked at you. You had a flashback of that one time you hooked up in his office and realized his door was left ajar when you could hear the secretary of the department arguing with the printer. You thanked your guardian angel (who must had been very disappointed) that you were just on your knees blowing him off, and that nothing too serious was going on.

You laughed, for a second you thought you were in trouble.

“What was that all about?” Chris questioned, his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a dark expression.

“I have no clue what you’re referring too.” You shrugged lightly and looked at the screen, wishing he had chosen another shirt that showcased his tattoos. You were lucky enough to see his arms from the short sleeves, you felt as aroused as royal men back in the day when they saw a woman’s ankles.

Chris clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, really? There is no explanation to the attitude you’ve been giving your teammates and me all morning?”

You sighed again, loud enough for him to hear you. “They’re idiots and I’m sick of their shit. They’re not doing anything on the project yet they show off in front of you just to   —“

“Got it, they’re dumb and you’re smart.” He put the emphasis on the last few words. “Tell me, Miss, if you’re that smart, how come you’ve made the very stupid decision to be rude to me as well?”

You swallowed thickly. You were just so pissed off, exhausted from the all nighter you had to do in order to complete the requirements for today’s class. “Chris, look, you know it wasn’t about you...” You heard him cough. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I’d call you a good girl, but good girls don’t talk back and they certainly don’t act so bratty. What a potty mouth, you swore in front of everybody. Do I have to teach you manners too? I’m afraid that’s not listed on my tasks as your professor, too bad.”

“I said I was sorry! You know how much I hate them!”

“Do I have to give you a bad grade for not cooperating? Not everybody is as understanding as me, you need to learn that.”

He sounded so arrogant, so condescending. As much as you hated it, it turned you on. You were all squirmy on your chair, and he caught up on that.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, princess? Why are you on the edge?”

You looked up through your lashes, letting out a complaint. That fucker. The last time you met, which was over a week ago, he had an emergency and had to leave his apartment to go on campus. How convenient, you had not finished and you were left breathless and worked up on his bed. He made you promise not to touch yourself without permission on his way out. He knew just how impatient you could get. All the needy texts you sent him while he was looking over his other classes during an exam; all the begging you did over the phone while he insisted on doing small talk.

“You won’t play with me,” you pouted at the screen. “You’re no fun.”

He chuckled, his voice sounded lower than usual while he sat up on his chair. He loved this game with you, probably as much as you did if not more.

You noticed his arm disappeared out of the frame. You’d do ten other team works with your stupid colleagues if it meant you’d be the one to take care of his hard on at that very moment.

“Oh, baby wanna have fun? Is that it? You should have told me sooner!” He cleared his throat when he heard you sigh again, giving you a warning. “Get those fingers nice and wet for me.”

You obeyed, sucking on two fingers of your dominant hand. You picked up on the back and forth movements of his arm, he was palming at his crotch. You caught a glimpse of him standing up   — he was in tight Calvin Klein boxers   —  and sitting back down, his cock freed from his clothes. “I’ve been good, Sir. So good.”

He nodded slowly, after spitting in his hand and starting to fist his cock. “Oh, really?”

You nodded frantically. “I haven’t touched myself since you left,” you pulled your hand away from your mouth, a string of saliva fell down your chin. “I’ve been so wet for you, Sir. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then think about my fingers rubbing your clit.” He groaned, the speed of his arm motions increased.

You jerked on your chair at the contact of your fingers, your panties were soaked from your arousal. “Sir!” You moaned out when you circled faster against the bundle of nerves.

“You’re so fucked up for me, you’d rather cum on your fingers than on my face, huh?” You felt tears pooling in your eyes. “Stop touching yourself and answer me.”

You pulled your hand away, showing it to the camera so he believed you. “I want to cum so bad, Sir! Please, just once! And I’ll wait until we meet again. I need it!”

“And I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours and you don’t hear me complainin’.” His bicep flexed in his tight shirt, his breathing got heavier. “I waited for you the entire week. I didn’t text you in the middle of the night begging like a desperate slut.” He nodded, indicating you could start rubbing again.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. He was edging you, again.

“Eyes on me, Baby. Need to see you.”

It took so much energy just to keep your eyes open.

“Faster.” He growled, he was so close too. You could feel it, even if he was far away.

“Sir, please!”

“Stop, stop right fucking now.” He pulled away from his swollen cock at the same time as you did. “I won’t tolerate attitude like this again, you heard me?” You nodded, mouthed a ‘yes’. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You’re such a dumb little baby sometimes, I’ll probably have to.” The more he mocked you, the more you needed to touch yourself again. “Next time you act like a bitch in my class, you’ll regret it.” You never took his threats lightly. The first, and last, time that you did, you ended up bent over his knee with the belt of his dress pants spanking your ass red like the ink from the pen he used to grade papers

“I’ll count to ten. At ten, you’ll...”

“I’ll cum!” You spoke excitedly.

“Yes, Babygirl. You’ll get to cum.” He licked his lips and stroked his beard, his hand holding his sensitive cock. “Ready?”

You replied with even more enthusiasm and he started to count up.

“Slowly, 1, 2, 3...” He swallowed thickly. “Add more pressure now, 4, 5, 6,” he tightened his grip around his cock. “Faster, 7, 8, 9...” he jerked himself up at the same speed as you. “Now, cum for me. Make a mess like you’d do on my cock. That’s right, cum for me, Princess.”

The knot in your stomach finally snapped and you released yourself on your hand. You were panting and clenching around nothing, wishing you were with Chris right now.

He growled loudly as he released himself on his hand and shirt. “Look what you did to me, Baby.” He sat up just enough to show you, causing you to laugh at the sight of his messed up top.

In exchange, you showed him your slick coated fingers before you licked them clean. Blood rushed to his cock again, but he took a deep breath to calm down. “All good now?”

“Yes! Thank you, Sir.” You smiled, content and satisfied.

He wiped his hand clean with his shirt, after he removed it and let you admire his broad chest and inked drawings. “I’m giving you extra homework.”

Your smile disappeared and you squinted, mentally preparing for more readings or an extra essay on how good he fucked you. It would be your third or fourth, you ran out of synonyms to explain that he made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Take a shower and a nap, I’ll get to this meeting and meet you back home, okay?”

Your face lit up again, and you clapped happily.

“See? I can be fun when I want to.”

[sweetsbfreex]

always my valentine.

happy belated valentine’s day guys! thank you for all the love, heres 3.7k words pure fluff.

Summary: on one chill valentine’s day evening you and Harry reminisce the valentine’s day that hold a special place in your hearts. But let’s start where it begins

warnings: fluff, slight angst

Pairing: Husband,Boyfriend!Harry x reader

                                                        xoxo

You were excited, walking down the hallway, your backpacking dragging you down with all the candy bundled in there, and the box of heart shaped cookies your dad volunteered for you to bring. 

Your auntie had picked out a specially themed outfit for this day. Valentine's Day! Dark pink overalls, a lighter pink t-shirt with your all time favorite love story (The Aristocats), and two pretty, sparkly heart shaped pins in your hair. 

“Good Morning Ms. Ash” you grinned up at your teacher by the door, raising the container of bakers cookies above your tiny figure.

“Good Morning!” she replied enthusiastically. “Are these for the party?”

You nodded in reply, descending your arms from how tired they were feeling already. 

“That’s great, why don’t you go ahead and place them on the table next to the whiteboard”

You smiled at her, making your way to the table, responding to an energetic hello from Johnny before making your way to the back of the room to place your coat and backpack on the low placed rack. 

When you had finally taken your place next to your best friend, Samantha. Cheering a hello to the other three students placed in your table. About to look down at the morning warm-up for the day. Fractions. They were easy, but gosh were they annoying. Why does the bottom–– denominator–– have to change so much.

But you caught sight of Harry walking into the classroom, a black and white polka dot jacket covering his outfit for the day, and a red hat covering his hair. 

He waved at you a pretty (but somewhat toothless) smile supporting his greeting. You waved back at him, turning again to the half sheet of paper. 

Once again were interrupted when you felt a gentle, not so gentle tap on your shoulder. 

“Do you want to see what I got Harry?” she asked.

“You got something for a boy?” you were shocked, you loved fairy tales, loved romances, loved when your dad told you old stories of him and your mom before you were born. Your favorite being when she was pregnant with you and he brought her out to the rain, a bouquet of flowers in his hand–– that he had picked up after work. And they had danced in the rain all night long, their songs blasting from his car. 

You guys were 8-9, why was this happening now? Feeling behind. Were we supposed to ask someone to be our valentines. Like in the movies.

“Yea” you were interested that was for sure.

She pulled out a piece of construction paper from inside her desk. It was heart shaped, glitter glued around the edges, a sucker taped to the paper , and the words happy valentine Harry! Also glittered and glued to the paper.

It looked a mess. But you couldn’t tell her that plus it’s the thought that always counts. 

“Wow! So are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend now?”you quiz meekly. 

“No but I hope so after this, we’ll be the second couple after Jolie and Zay” she giggles, pushing the card back in her desk.

Great, what a way to ruin a perfectly good day. But you still were extra excited for the movie, snacks, and candy to be passed around. 

A few moments Ms. Ash had walked in, her coffee cup in hand. 

“Okay guys! First we are going to finish up these warm ups...I’ll give you guys…five minutes, is that good?” she looked around for confirmation, not seeing any objections she continued. “Then thirty- forty minutes before school ends we’ll start the celebration!”. 

*

It was time! After Ms. Ash had read the class Happy Valentine’s Day Mouse! And Llama Llama I Love You (Your favorite) everyone was sent to grab whatever candy to be passed around. 

Now you were all scattered around the room, everyone making their rounds to all the kids passing around sweethearts, lollies, and so many other things. 

Dropping Anthony his ring pop into his brown paper bag while he gave you the pack of conversation hearts. There was a very gentle tap on your elbow, making you turn around to see Harry.

“Oh! Hi Harry!” you were all smiles looking at him, waving politely. 

“Hi, y/n, I have your goodie if you want it?”

“Yes please, here's yours” your head tilted down, digging around for ring pop attached with Harry’s name. 

“Here you go” extending your arms to Harry, gripping the other end of the ring pop packet. 

He extended his arm out to yours, moments later a pretty, store bought heart shaped card in his hand and a small, red box of chocolate Russell Stover chocolates were in your view. 

You grabbed the two items, looking at the card to see ‘Happy Valentines Day Y/N, written in his hand writing. A pretty saying to math the image of two cute kittens at the bottom. ‘You’re the purr-fect friend, Happy Valentine’s.

“I remember you said you liked Aristocats and my mum said you’d really like this one” He informed you. 

Two days before that day, Harry ate dinner with his mother and sister. There he had asked confidently, a fond smile on his face, if he could get a girl he thought was pretty a Valentine’s gift. Then ensued the non-stop teasing from his sister and mum.

“Harry’s first girlfriend” His sister had teased.

“Mum!” he complained back, his fork dropping to his plate.

“Stop it now” She playfully reprimanded His sister, who knew she didn't mean it but for Harry’s sake. Grabbing Harry’s chin soothingly “That’s fine Harry, we can go to the store. Who’s it for anyway?”

“Y/n”

“Mr. Y/l/n daughter?” she had asked, interest piqued. 

“Yep” he replied successively earning an ‘ooh’ from his sister. 

“Thank you so much Harry, it’s really pretty. I’m sorry I only got you that” you pointed to the ring pop, the inner corners of your eyebrows raising. 

“It’s okay! My name is on the little card, so it’s okay” he smiled, reassuring you as he showed you the tiny card attached to the ring pop. 

View solely on Harry you had missed the fuming girl standing perpendicular to the two of you. 

-

“I love that card!” you told Harry, squeezing the hand over your shoulder. 

You were both twenty-five, spending your Twelfth Valentine’s day as a couple, snuggled up on the couch. Unsurprisingly and inevitably you both had made it out–– with a few rocky roads in the way ––together.

“Oh yea? Should’ve seen how my sister kept embarrassing me while we picked it”

“Guess what” you hooked him quietly, looking up at his gaze. 

“What?”

“What if I told you I still have the card you got me” you muse. 

“Wouldn’t believe you, show me”

You raised from your spot on the sofa, grabbing Harry’s hand to follow you upstairs. He sat on the bed watching you rummage through the closet.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“No, I’m okay thank you” you chirped. 

From there you pulled a painted, wooden storage box. The words Do Not Open are very prominent at all sides of the box. You’ve had this box and two other boxes stacked to the far right of your closet. Everything you’ve ever loved, being stored in here all the way from birth, something your mother had started before you were even born. Harry had never gotten a glance at it, respecting your wishes of Do Not Open. 

You sat next to him, the box placed on your lap, lifting the lid. You looked up at Harry who had averted his gaze from inside the box quickly.

You laughed at the endearment, “It’s okay baby, you can look. Thank you though” leaning up to kiss his jaw.

Last time you checked this box you had left it at the bottom of the box, and that’s exactly where it was as you lifted it up. Fixing the crease of the corner of the stock paper.

“See! Told you” The heart between both of your hands, arms extended and placed so both of you could view it equally. 

When you haven't heard a witty remark from Harry, you look up confused only to have that expression shift in worry. Looking up to see his moss eyes were glazed over and his mouths scrunched and puckered up (his way to keep himself from crying.) 

You sit up on your knees quickly, placing the card in his lap, before bringing his head to your chest, the hand holding the side of his face closer, thumb brushing under his eyes. 

“Oh Harry! Why are you crying?” bringing your head down to level your eyes with his. He turned his head towards your chest even more embarrassed. “You’re so cute, don’t be embarrassed” you laugh kissing the top of his head. 

“Stop” he laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Just means a lot that you kept it for all this time”’ taking hold of the heart in his lap, fingers rubbing the paper softly as he reminisced. 

“Yeah...well after you gave it to me it hung on my dresser's mirror for years how couldn’t I” you assured him, kissing his head once again.

“Can I be honest, my favorite gift is the one I got you in middle school”

-

Freaking rational numbers and their stupid fractions. Stupid seventh grade teachers. What was the point of having all these different categories of numbers in the first place?? Natural, Rational, Real, Integers, or Irrational. What was the point?

You thought this, upset at your latest math grade, while you stuffed your math journal and book into your locker. Slamming the door–– as softly as you could, which wasn’t very soft, but you also didn’t catch the attention of most of the students in the hallway. 

You jumped at the sight of Harry, who had stood behind your locker door.

He reached his hand to your waist to settle you down, which did the opposite of that as you had shivered, goosebumps raising from the contact. Ever the flirt he was. Eyes widening as you took in his dimpled smile and the way on his arms hid behind his back. 

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?”  he asked, tilting his head to the scene from earlier. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine! Just math and Mr.Quimby’s teaching” you huff.

“I like your outfit, very festive” he complimented, dropping his hand from your waist so both his arms were behind his back. 

“Oh” you smiled meekly, looking down at the heart patterned dress you were sporting, a black cardigan enveloping you, and your red converse on your feet. “Thank you, it’s Valentine’s Day so had to dress accordingly”

“Yeah well you’ve been dressing accordingly since pre school” he joked.

“One of us has to” you laugh off the bad joke, closing your eyes in sheer agony. 

“Glad it’s you then...I actually have a surprise for you”

“Really?” shuffling your feet in anticipation. 

He retracted his arm, a red bag in hand. Sticking out proudly was a rose.

“Go ahead and open it” he urged, of course a confident smile on his face as he pushed his hands into his front pockets. 

The first thing you had pulled out was a box of candy. 

“Thank you” you mumbled, before pulling the last item. 

There was a white box and when you had pulled it from the light, you saw the black printed label of ‘Pandora’ at the top. You looked up at Harry, mouth open, watching his smile grow wider from your reaction. 

“H––”

“Wait before you go on and on, open it”

You were tempted to thrust this back in his hand, not even wanting to know the price of whatever was in the box. But surveying the look on his face you just had to.

Your fingers gripped the lid of the box, lifting it. The first thing you saw was a piece of paper that covered whatever he had gotten from the glamorous store.

‘Be Mine?’

Wow. 

You looked back up at him grinning from ear to ear, your stomach fluttering non-stop after reading those words. 

“Harry!” you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him into a bone crushing hug. You felt his hands fist into the back of your cardigan. “Really? How did you even afford this” you asked, pulling away first. 

“Yeah. A looot of saving up. I mean i would’ve asked a while ago, but today seemed like a good day”

“Then yeah” a close lipped smile on your face. 

“Open the box” he smiled back. 

You pushed yourself away from him, opening the box again and removing the paper from the top to see a silver bracelet and a charm to be put on the bracelet laying in black velvet fabric. 

The charm was the cat Marie from the Aristocats.  

“This is so cute H, thank you.”

“Flip it over” he instructed softly

On the back of her head engraved was ‘thx for being my better ½” and today's date. 

“Love the fraction” you commented sarcastically.

“Been complaining about them since elementary school had to put it in...plus i was running out of space.” He let you know, reaching a hand out to hold one of yours. 

“I’m sorry i didn’t get you anything. Do you want a lollipop?” you squinted, face scrunched up in embarrassment. 

“It’s alright. Yeah that’ll be fine” he smiled. 

-

He’s been adding charms and buying you new bracelets every Valentine’s Day ever since that day. The Aristocat charm is always on the newest bracelet. This year it had been a lady bug, claiming with it that you were his luck in life. 

“Really?” you asked surprised. 

“Yeah, it was basically when we made it official...and then got that write up for pda in the hallway”

“Oh my gosh, I hated Mrs. Ambrose” you groaned, your head hanging back dramatically for a slight second. 

“Yeah. Swear she had it out for me and you after that.”

The amount of write ups you and Harry had accumulated from mostly holding hands was unbelievable. He was a physical touch kind of lover, you couldn’t do much about it at that time. 

“Wanna know my favorite?” you asked him. He nodded which prompted you both to a trip down memory lane. 

-

Eleventh Grade.

Click. Click. Click. 

You turned your back away from the window.

Click.

“Y/n” was hollered out.

Ugh, You groaned raising yourself from your bed, stomping to your window.

“You’re late. I’m mad at you. My dad is mad at you.” you hissed your head.

“I know baby, but just come down so I can explain”

You looked down, a stupid puppy dog longing look on his face. God you hated him really bad right now, it wasn't fair. 

“I hate you. You’re lucky my dad is on a date tonight, like i’m supposed to be!” you seethed before retracting yourself from the window, making your way downstairs. 

He could only smile, that cocky son of a––

“Ow” you hissed out lowly, clutching your foot before walking down the stairs carefully.

You opened the door now face to face with your boyfriend, who used his dazzling face to adorn a guilty look on his face. His way to reel you in so you had no choice. His dumb faux pouty lips. 

He reached his hand out to touch your arm until you had pulled away quickly. Shaking your head. “Explanation first”

“Okay. I deserve that, but can we sit?” he asked, shuffling to the side so you could the blanket that lay on your lawn. Fake candles surrounding the perimeter. And on the blanket was a bouquet of roses, candy, your favorite meal, a bluetooth speaker, cupcakes, and a red gift bag (attached to that was a balloon of a puppy that held a heart between it’s paws.)

You tried really hard to suppress the smile that wanted to show your appreciation for the thoughtful gesture. And succeeded as you followed Harry who had taken his place on the blanket, before taking off his shoes, holding out his hand for you to help support yourself downwards. Which you had ignored, still a bit displeased.

You looked around a bit before looking up at Harry, eyebrow quirked.

“Well…”

From there he had let you know that he was up all last night finishing something for you and had let time get away from him before his mum walked in wondering why he was still here. Then he realized his phone died, so he had to wait for it to power up in his car while driving to the local store to get anything else he needed, since he had made the two of you miss the reservations for tonight. “Fucking left my phone in the car”. To which it died again causing him to be with what is now. 

“I’m really sorry y/n, ‘know I wouldn’t pull an asshole move like that on purpose”

“I know...Still it was embarrassing, you’re supposed to be the punctual one”

He laughed at that, testing the waters as he glided his hands towards your carefully. And when you hadn’t pulled back he carefully intertwined both of your hands together raising it up to kiss your knuckles. 

“Pajamas are cute, Sucks i missed your Valentine's Day outfit, was really looking forward to it” he let you know. 

You heated up as you looked over the set you were wearing. The pant and long sleeve set both were identical, red as the background and white hearts scattered all over the place. 

“Guess you’ll never know, hm?” you hummed.

His stare was intense, not letting the eye contact break for a moment. No. Your hand collided with his face softly as you stopped his face from leaning in. Your palm meeting his mouth, before pushing it away gently. 

“Nope” you reprimanded him. 

“C’mon” he groaned. “Not even a kiss, I thought you weren’t mad anymore” he asked, his hand reaching up to clasp your wrist, which he had brought down slowly. Letting it lay flat in his lap between his palms.The sound of your bracelet clinking together supporting the sound of the other night creatures. 

“I’m gonna go get your gift, then maybe we’ll see if you deserve a kiss” standing abruptly, as you made your way into your home quickly. Hearing the soft muttering of Harry’s complaint of “girls”.

In a moment whirl, you were now sitting a bit closer to Harry. His gift bag in your lap. 

“I want to go first, since you always go first” you extended your hand towards him and he grabbed it but not before quickly kissing your cheek, as a result–– just to mess with him–– you wiped your cheek, sticking your tongue playing it off as if it was disgusting.  

“You love it. Stop” he chuckled pinching your cheek.

“Just open it” you groaned.

“Am I ever this pushy with you?” he asked rhetorically. “Thought so”

He finally opened the bag, reading the sweet card you had written for him. You watched his smile grow as his eyes shifted from word to word. 

Then looked through it again, pulling out a small string back, pulling it apart to see a pink guitar pick engraved on one of the sides being, ‘thanks for being my significant ½ -y/initial“ and the date you both had made it official.

“Thank you teenie, I’ll use it every time I play” he pulled you in by his arms around your shoulder, kissing your cheek incessentantly. 

“That god awful nickname” you complained. “But i’m glad you liked it”

“Yours” he said, placing a bag in your lap. 

You opened it, seeing the very familiar box. Opening it eagerly you saw laying in the box, a charm with a bow at the top. He knew your new obsession with baking and of course he had nailed it yet again.

“The bottom” he answered the question that he knew was floating through your head. 

And there it was the engraving you were looking for. 

‘xoxo -h’ and today’s date. 

“There’s also one more thing he told you” twisting his body, you watched his shoulders and arms move and the sound of a zipper. 

His guitar was now clutched in his lap, using one hand to wrap the strap around his neck.

Then he started strumming a beautiful tune and sang a song you had never heard. It was beautiful and when you had realized the correlations within the 

“Harry...Oh my gosh” you squealed, launching yourself at him, feeling one of his arms wrap around your waist quickly. A deep chuckle emitting from his mouth. 

“You wrote this––” having to stop mid sentence, your throat feeling cramped as tears kept coming non stop. 

“I wrote it for you, yeah. It’s why i was so late, was putting finishing touches on it all day yesterday”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you asked him, his dimpled cheeks between your palms. 

“Yeah...I guess so” he said nonchalantly, rolling his eyes, and shrugging one shoulder.

You giggled at his action, tilting his head up so you could kiss him lovingly. 

“Got my kiss” he teased. 

“Well you deserve it” you rolled your eyes kissing him once again.

-

As you both got older and started spending nights together, he had always sung you your song by your request. You loved it so much that he surprised you with it on your wedding night. Booking a private session at the best studio he recorded the song just for you, so you both were able to dance it as your first dance as husband and wife. Now you were able to listen to it whenever you wanted. 

He was always the best gift giver between the two of you. You still spent all these years trying to top him. 

“The song? Really?” he assented, eyes a bit wide. 

“Yeah” you chuckled softly, “It’s the sweetest anyone has done for me, how could I not?”

“Can’t argue that can i?” “Nope...Happy V-day H”

“Happy lover Day teenie, thanks for always being mine” he smiled up at you, his pupils and yours dilating a bit at the exaltation. The dopamine so overloaded, you wondered if it was even possible. He brought you to sit in his lap carefully. A passionate kiss to your lips, transferring the love he felt for you in that one kiss. Years and years of love that hadn’t and would never fizzle out. Not on his watch and especially not on yours.

– – – –

ahh i loved this soo much, if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: PG

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series

word count: 1.3k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.

banner by me!

A/N: hey everyone! This is my first series that I’m writing and I’m so excited to share it with all of you! If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption, or you can send me an ask!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

“You’re late”

Swinging your backpack onto the lab bench beside you, you glare at your lab partner.

“Shut up Jeon, it’s only 8:04am and our TA hasn’t even finished introducing the lab yet”.

Introduction to Organic Chemistry was all set up to be your favorite class. You were a chemistry genius in high school, your professor had amazing “rate my professor” reviews, and the class fit perfectly into your schedule, finishing right at 2:00pm so you could walk back to your dorm under the radiance of the afternoon sun.

It was all going well until you walked into your 8:00AM lab and found that due to budget cuts, all labs would now be done in pairs. And you had been paired with none other than the bane of your existence, Jeon Jungkook. As if doing an amide reduction wasn’t hard enough on its own, you had to do it alongside the biggest thorn in your side.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was about him that irked you so much. Maybe it was the way the girls tried to flirt with his constantly over the open flame of a Bunsen burner, or the way that he sucks up to your extremely old TA in order to get full marks on his procedural skills, or maybe it’s the fact that he somehow managed to look effortlessly put together at 8am on a Tuesday morning, while you looked (and felt) like absolute crap.

Either way, you were counting down the seconds until this semester would be over and you wouldn’t have to look at Jeon Jungkook again, but time seemed to be moving extra slow today.

“Late and spacing out today? Wow, lucky me to have you as a lab partner.”

Scoffing at him, you adjusted your protective glasses and readied your labware for today.

“180 minutes until I’m free. That’s it,” you thought to yourself.

“Technically it’s 170 minutes now, but if we don’t get started someone soon so we can hand in our product by 11am, we’re going to be here for a lot longer than that.”, snapped Jungkook next to you, already starting to mix chemicals together in a beaker.

Well, looks like your habit of accidentally saying things out loud gets worse when you’re tired.

“Let’s just try and get through this lab today without stepping on each other’s toes Jeon, okay?” you said, trying to catch up to Jungkook in the lab.

There was one part of chemistry labs you disliked the most. The waiting time. In some labs it was only 30 minutes, while in other labs it had taken almost an hour, but the constant in all of the situations was that waiting made it feel like time was passing at an infinitely slower rate. Taking out your laptop would violate lab safety protocol, and you couldn’t do any further steps in your lab until your reaction in your solution was done progressing under the fume hood. Since there were no other options, the only other thing left to do in moments like this was talk to Jeon Jungkook.

“So I was -”

“What did you -”

Yikes, add the awkwardness of starting conversation with Jeon Jungkook to the reasons you never talk to him.  You decided to pause and let him carry on with whatever he was saying, giving him a semi-pleasant smile to hopefully help distract from the embarrassment you were feeling.

“I was going to ask what you wanted to do our lab presentation on,” said Jungkook.

Your eyes widened at his statement. Looking at the whiteboard situated at the side of the room, you saw that in the 4 minutes you were late to your lab you may not have missed your TA explaining the procedure, but you did the big words on the board that said:

“FINAL LAB PRESENTATION: 3 weeks from now, worth 20% of your grade, done with your lab. 5-10 page paper and 10-15 minute oral presentation”.

Unable to contain your discontentment with the situation, you let out a groan and leaned back in your chair in frustration, almost falling off your lab stool in the process.

“Well aren’t you just little Miss Sunshine today? I’m not thrilled about this either, but I’d rather pull out my eyelashes than have to repeat this course again next semester,” scoffed Jungkook.

No morning ice coffee + Jeon Jungkook being annoying + a looming group project was more enough to make your head hurt.

“Can we just talk about this later Jeon? My brain can’t process this right now,” you pleaded as you put your head in your hands.

Leaning closer to you, Jungkook spoke at a whisper-level near your ear so nobody else would hear.

“Is your brain too busy processing my charm, sunshine? Don’t worry, I’ll try and tone down the charisma for you,” he joked with a smirk.

Your head went from being in your hands to plopping flat onto your (no longer sterile) lab counter at Jungkook’s comment.

First of all, ew. You don’t know how Jungkook was possibly picking up girls by talking like that. Second of all, charm and charisma were probably two words that you would NEVER associate with Jungkook, so his statement was definitely wrong.

A project with Jungkook meant that you would be spending a LOT more time with him, and the prospect of that happening made you wince internally. Group projects meant libraries, evenings, and , ugh, probably weekends with Jeon Jungkook.

You were snapped out of your internal despair by the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

“Hand me your phone.”

You froze. “Hm?”

“Well I don’t know what you think of me Y/N, but unless you think I can read your mind we’re  going to need to text to figure out when to meet.”

Giving in, you quickly tossed your phone into his open palm while grabbing his phone which was sitting on top of his backpack.

Glancing over his shoulder, you took a peek at your contact name.

“little miss sunshine? really Jeon?”

“Of course sunshine, i had to pick a name that encapsulated your positive and radiant energy,” he retorted, sarcasm practically dripping off of his words.

You definitely were picking your battles today, and one over a silly contact name didn’t seem to be worth it.

“You can do whatever, Jeon, but you’re sticking in my phone as “Jeon Boy” and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that Y/N,” remarked Jungkook as he opened up his lab manual to read the next steps in the procedure.

Your mom had always taught you that the word “hate” was a very strong word and was only to be used in extreme situations. To this day, there were only 3 people in your life that you truly hated in every sense of the word: your ex-boyfriend, Jimin, your ENGL 101 Professor, Dr.Lee, and your neighbor’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, who chewed up your grade 8 science project the day before it was due.

You wouldn’t say that you hate Jungkook, but you were definitely getting close.

“Yknow, I don’t like you Jeon. Actually, scratch that, I really don’t like you.”

Glancing over at the timer on your lab bench finally reaching 0:00, Jungkook began walking over to the fume hood. Turning back to you, he smirked and started to speak.

“Well, the feeling’s mutual sunshine.”

Boy, this was definitely going to be a long semester.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you want to be tagged in future parts, reblog and mention that you want to be tagged in the caption (or you can send me an ask)!

If you liked what you read, please write/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stars on your Sleeve (Part 2) [A Jay Halstead Imagine]

A/N: The name of the girl is Y/N (I mostly write my imagines in second person POV...except for the one you guys might see in a few weeks) and cariña is just a nickname/term of endearment in Spanish that means sweetheart. Sorry if anyone got confused about that in part one!

"Dad," you started as you walked into Jay's office after school that day.

It was a Thursday and you had taken the bus from school to the district. It wasn't often that you did this, but you had gotten texts from both your mom and dad telling you that the current case was going to drag on and on tonight, so they wanted you at the district so that you wouldn't be home alone until two or three o'clock in the morning.

"Hi, cariña. How was your day? Learn anything interesting in school?"

"Dad," you groaned. "It's high school, half the stuff they teach me I won't ever use again."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to know about my daughter's day."

"Just can't wait for this week to be over to sleep in."

"You and me both, kid."

"Half the time you work weekends though, Dad," you pointed out.

"Comes with the sergeant title."

"And your sleeping in is like 7:00."

"Point taken. Now, did Mom pack you a few extra snacks or do you need some money for the vending machines?"

"She didn't--"

"Don't even finish that sentence, young lady," Hailey said as she burst into Jay's office. "I packed you a few extra things and you know it. You just want--"

"--Oreos," Jay and Hailey said at the same time.

"Hey, don't blame me! They taste good," you protested. "Anyway, Dad, can I use your laptop to do my homework?"

"Don't you have that school-issued one?"

"That one blocks Netflix."

Jay crossed his arms across his chest. "Homework, huh?"

"I'm just writing a paper. It's not like I'm doing math or reading something."

"What type of paper?" Hailey asked. "Because, I'm pretty sure that if it's a research paper, you need to focus."

"It's a narrative, so I don't need to be constantly focused, Mom."

"Makayla does the same thing," Adam said as he entered the office as well. "Let the kid have the laptop, Jay."

"Thanks, Adam."

"Uh," Jay groaned, "I guess."

"We also have a lead, so you wanna roll out after I give you the info?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. Sorry, Y/N, you need to go into the breakroom now."

"But why can't I stay in here?" you whined. "I want your spinny chair."

"Y/N, this is a case," your mom told you. "You know the rules: no being around the case talk. It's for your own good, we don't want to scar or scare you."

Mom, you know what I've seen, you wanted to tell her, but you knew it would be no use as your parents would never budge on this rule.

"I know, Mom."

Jay pulled his laptop from his desk along with the charger. "Rules?" he probed, holding onto the laptop and charger.

"Dad, I know the rules. Mom, c'mon, tell him."

"It's your dad's laptop, Y/N. I'm not arguing with you or him on this one."

Jay cocked his head to the side. "I'll give you the laptop after you tell me the rules...even though I know you know them."

You sighed. You went through this every time you used his laptop when he was going to be gone. "Only use my account, don't try to login to your account, and do not delete my search history."

"Here you go." He handed you his laptop and charger. "Good luck on your paper. Don't work too hard."

You went into the breakroom and opened the laptop. First, you pulled up Netflix, and then you pulled up your paper. It was your paper for your senior portfolio, which most people were putting off, seeing as you were only a freshman, you didn't need to work on it yet. But, you knew it had to be long, so starting it now would probably be helpful.

The paper was basically a narrative telling a story about each year of school. The stories had to be from two to five pages long, which meant that the paper in its entirety would be between 26 and 65 pages long. But, you didn't mind. It's not like you had to write a boring research paper. You also had to write about your career goals and one wish for your future as well, which would make the paper even longer still.

Seeing as your schooling didn't exactly match up with the American school system until you were around nine and in third grade, you had gotten permission from your teacher to just write about the sections of kindergarten, first, and second grade, as just memories from when you were six, seven, and eight years old.

You'd save the memories of six and seven for later, since you'd have to dig into the part of your brain where you were in the orphanage with your older sister, Illiana.

For now, you just scribbled down a few lines for ideas of when you were eight years old...which was pretty simple since a lot happened in your life that year.

***

"Y/N, we brought you some food if you--"

"Shut up!" Mouse hissed as the rest of the unit clambered up the stairs and into the bullpen. "She's sleeping."

Yes, when Mouse came home he returned to his job as the tech analyst of the Intelligence Unit. And, when Jay became sergeant, he pulled a few strings and got him a huge salary increase.

"I'll pull the car around front," Hailey offered.

"No," Jay whined. "That means I gotta be the bad guy and wake her up."

"Sorry, babe. I call dibs."

"Ew, guys, please keep the lovey-dovey nicknames to home. I don't need to see that," Adam joked.

"Shut up, Ruz."

Hailey swiped the keys from Jay's office and Jay went to wake you up. But, before he did, he saw the laptop, still open to both Netflix and your paper.

There wasn't much in the paper yet, as Jay had expected, only a few bullet points. His name caught his eye below the age 8 section...whatever that meant. He didn't mean to pry (well, really he did), but he closed the laptop without logging you out so that he and Hailey could take a look at it later.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up."

You were woken up by someone gently shaking your shoulder.

"Quiero dormir, vaya," you whined. That was one thing you always did: reverted back to Spanish when you were tired. At least both Jay and Hailey understood it now because they had learned Spanish...which helped them with parenting because when they were mad at you, they'd talk in Spanish and that's how you know you were in deep shit.

"I know you want to sleep, and I'm not leaving," Jay answered. "But, we're going home so you can sleep in your bed instead of here."

"Mmmm, okay," you mumbled. You rubbed your eyes, but then decided it was too much work to get up, so you just sat up and closed your eyes once again.

"C'mon, cariña. Mom's got the car out front and then all you gotta do is stay awake until we get home, okay?"

"Mmmm," you mumbled and then stood up. He already had your backpack slung over his shoulder and was holding his laptop in the other hand. "Can I skip school tomorrow? I'm tired."

"Not a chance," Jay chuckled. "But, I can drive you to school and we can get you a frappucino on the way there."

"Mom won't be mad?"

"We don't have to tell Mom everything now do we?"

"No, we don't."

***

"What are you doing?" Hailey asked Jay as she slid into bed next to him that night. "Are you seriously checking our daughter's search history this late at night? C'mon Jay, she's a good kid. You won't find anything."

"That's not what I'm looking at. But, now that you mention it, I should probably check that, too."

"Then, what are you reading? Because I know for a fact that your case notes are definitely not as organized as that."

"Wow, Hails, you're so sweet," Jay said sarcastically. "It's Y/N's paper. The rubric was pasted at the top and it looks like she has to write about a memory from each year of her life and her career goals and a wish for the future."

"And you were snooping because...?"

"Because I saw my name. I wanna see what she says about us, Hailey."

"Jay, she loves us, baby. We're her parents. We both know that. You don't need to read her schoolwork to know that."

"Either way, I'm still reading it. Join me if you want, or go to sleep."

"Uh, fine. But if she asks, this was your idea and I will not hesitate to throw you under the bus."

Age 8, they both read to themselves, leaving/running away from orphanage

"God, no matter how many years it's been since she told us what happened, it never fails to break my heart," Hailey said.

Jay wrapped one arm around his wife. "I know, babe. I feel the exact same way."

"Hey, Y/N," the therapist started and you looked up at her. "Do you want to in that room over there and watch some tv while I talk to jay and Hailey? I can even turn on the Spanish movies for you."

"Okay!"

After getting you all set up, she left you in the room with a Spanish children's movie playing while she went to get Jay and Hailey.

"Jay and Hailey?" she asked as she entered the waiting room.

"Dr. Smith," Jay greeted.

"I have something to tell both of you, and Y/N told me it was okay that I tell you. When I asked if she wanted to be the one to tell you this, she said no because she didn't want to make you sad."

They entered the room where you had previously been and Dr. Smith sat in a chair and Jay and Hailey sat on the couch.

"What's this about?" Hailey asked.

"Well, she told me why she ran away from the orphanage."

Jay and Hailey were shocked. You'd been with them for three months and hadn't once mentioned why you ran away and what happened before Jay found you. It wasn't for lack of trying on Hailey and Jay's part, though. They tried. After all, they knew how to talk to child victims. But, they didn't want to push you too hard, and eventually, they just dropped the topic all together because they knew you'd talk about it when you were ready. Apparently, today was the day that you were ready to tell that story.

"And?" Jay pushed. "Why'd she run away?"

"She said that they came for her, the people who you were fighting," Dr. Smith said.

"Los Rebeldes," Jay said, more to Hailey than to anyone else.

"They came for her specifically?" Hailey asked.

"No, they just came to the orphanage. She said that she heard voices--male voices--telling them to get down on the ground and then some shots rang out. Her sister, Illiana, told her to hide and slipped the necklace around her neck. So, she did. She said she closed her eyes really tight and she just laid there, hiding and barely breathing. She said she heard a gunshot and then she heard Illiana scream and she heard squishing noises."

"Oh my God," Hailey gasped.

"You're saying they shot and killed her?" Jay asked, his voice cracking.

"That's what it sounded like, yes."

"How did she get out?"

"She said that she snuck out through a small door in the back of the room. She said it wasn't a real door, but it was a small door that led to the outside, by her description, it sounded about three feet tall and two feet wide."

"The waste doors," Jay muttered.

"The what?" Hailey asked.

"The waste doors...well, that's what we called them on Base anyway. They were these little doors where you could place stuff outside. Sometimes we'd put the packaging of our MRE's there or other crap we didn't need anymore. Not good for the planet, but yeah, that's what we did."

"So, Jay, you're telling me that Y/N essentially snuck out of the orphanage through a trash chute?"

"Well, we used them for waste, which is why we called them waste doors. But, I heard rumors of them being used at orphanages for parents to put their baby in a crib. They'd just open the door and place the baby in the little crib on the other side of the door."

"She moved the crib and snuck out through there?"

"If there was a crib, then she moved it and got out. If not, she just crawled out through there."

"Did she tell you anything about when she left?" Hailey asked Dr. Smith.

"She said that she didn't have much with her, just her teddy bear and that locket. But, she said that she walked for the rest of the day. And, according to her timeline, the soldiers came right after breakfast. She said she was really scared that they were going to find her and so she just kept walking. But then, she found a bit of a forest it sounded like and since it was starting to get dark and cold, she laid down."

"I found her in the middle of the night and she must've been there since sunset. No wonder she was hypothermic."

"We got her her first banana split after that therapy session," Hailey said. "I honestly don't know whether the food was to get her to try something new or to comfort us."

"Yeah, that was a rough night. I didn't even want her to leave my arms," Jay said. "Jay found me and I went home to Chicago," he read aloud. "Man, that night was rough, too. Probably worse than the night where we found out why she left."

"Now, it's crowded here, cariña so stay cerca to us or go mano a mano with me or Hailey, okay?" Jay asked you as the three of you found a parking spot at Navy Pier.

Adam, Kim, Kevin, and Will were all there as well. They had planned to go out and party and go to a bar when Jay returned home, but that changed now that he and Hailey had a kid to take care of, so they had decided to take a trip to Navy Pier.

In the airport, Jay had gotten a huge coffee from Starbucks, seeing as he had barely slept on the way home. Before coming to Navy Pier, you had gone to a place called iHOP where you had gotten some really yummy pancakes, and Adam, Kevin, and Will had made you laugh a lot and Kim spoke Spanish with you.

"What does that word mean?" you asked.

"What word?" Jay asked, looking down at you as he took your hand.

"Cr-crowded," you sounded out slowly.

"Uh, it means there's lots and lots of people."

"Oh, okay. I stay by you."

"So Y/N, what do you like to do?" Will asked you.

"I like reading and play fútbol," you told him.

"Really? Jay loves playing soccer!"

"We played back at the big house in España," you told Will excitedly. "We won and I got lots and lots of goals."

"Looks like you have a pro soccer player on your hands, little brother," Will said to Jay.

"Don't I know it."

"We go on the big thingy you showed me in the little book in the plane?" you asked Jay.

"The Ferris wheel?" You nodded excitedly. "We can do that, but let's walk around first. We might be able to play some games and win you a friend for Osito."

"Really? Osito have a friend?"

"Really," Jay promised.

As you walked down Navy Pier, you were excitedly pointing out every little thing you saw from the ducks and the seagulls to the big yachts floating down the Chicago River.

"Let's go into Garrett's, babe," Hailey suggested when they were inside the big atrium. "Give her a taste of Chicago's world-famous popcorn."

"I think that's a great idea," Jay agreed. "What do you think, cariña? Want to try some popcorn and then we'll get your favorite?"

You tilted your head to the side. "Popcorn? What is that?"

"Palomitas," Kim clarified for you in Spanish. "Hay muchos tipos diferentes de palomitas allí para probar y comprar."

"Oh, okay. Yes, please."

"What did you say to her?" Hailey whispered to Kim.

"Just gave her the Spanish translation of popcorn and then told her that there's a bunch of different types of popcorn that she can try and buy in there. But, you and Jay most definitely have your work cut out for you when it comes to learning Spanish. You're lucky that she's pretty good with English already and that I'm here to help you learn Spanish."

***

"Sleepy, cariña?" Jay asked as he heard you yawn from the backseat.

Hailey was driving and he was holding a big bag of caramel and cheddar popcorn...which Hailey was telling him not to eat all of it because she knew he would. You were in the backseat with your big stuffed bear, whom you had named Osita since she was a girl bear because she had really soft white fur and a pink ribbon tied around her. Jay had won that for you when he played a shooting game. You also had a stuffed duck that Will had won for you when he played a guess the weight game. You named him Pato...which meant duck in Spanish. You had gone on the Ferris wheel and had pointed out all the pretty things in the sky when you were up there. Hailey had never seen Jay so happy as when he was smiling wide at every little thing you pointed out and he tried to explain to you what they were.

"No," you answered as you laid your head against Osita. It was currently 3 pm Chicago time, which made it about 9 pm Spain time.

"Tell you what," Hailey started, "When we get home, we can show you your room, and then we can watch a movie and eat this popcorn. Because, if we don't start eating it soon, Jay will eat it all."

"Jay eat it all if we no eat it too?"

"Jay eats a lot," Hailey joked.

You reached your hand in front of you and towards Jay. "Palomitas please." Jay chuckled and Hailey smiled as he put some popcorn into your little outstretched hand. "Gracias."

"De nada," Jay told you.

"When we watch movie, how I get it?" you asked.

"We get it on the tv," Jay told you.

"No, how I know what they saying?"

Hailey hadn't thought that far ahead when she had suggested watching a movie. "Um," Hailey faltered. "We can make it so it's in Spanish."

"But then you no know what they say," you pointed out.

"We can put words on the bottom of the screen in English for us," Jay suggested. "Then all three of us will know what they're saying. Is that okay?"

"Okay!"

"Hailey," Jay whispered. "What are we gonna watch?"

"She's too old for princesses probably and way too young for action movies...how about Disney Channel movies? We could try High School Musical? That one's pretty good."

"You're kidding Hails. You watched that? Didn't it come out when we were like 20 or 25?"

Hailey held back a laugh. "Yes, it did. But, I babysat a lot of kids in my neighborhood who were around Y/N's age, and we'd always end up watching those Disney Channel originals."

"Okay, whatever you say, babe."

***

"I think I'm gonna bring her to bed," Jay said.

You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie. Before starting it, you had seen your room. It was purple! And, in black letters behind your bed, it said Salon de Y/N, which meant Y/N's room. Jay assumed that Kim had helped Hailey with the spelling and the boys had helped move the furniture into your room. There was also a little basket with a few things they thought you would like, such as a few different colored soccer balls and a bookshelf.

On the bookshelf, Hailey had picked out some books in Spanish that she had found at Barnes and Noble and some short chapter books in English that she used to read as a kid, such as the Nancy Drew series and Little House on the Prairie. She knew that you might need help reading them and might not be able to completely understand them all by yourself yet, but she knew that she and Jay would be there to help you.

"It's 6:00," Hailey protested. "Shouldn't we wake her up and have her stay awake for a few more hours so that her body can adjust?"

"If you're asking an adult like me that, yes, I'd stay awake. But, she's a kid. She needs her sleep. And, I'll probably be up before you anyway, so I can deal with her if she wakes us up at five in the morning."

"Okay super dad," Hailey joked. "Bring her to bed. I'll make us a quick dinner and cover this popcorn so it doesn't get stale. Can't wait for us to go to bed tonight." She winked.

"Hails, as much as I would love to take you up on that, I don't think it's a good idea when it's Y/N's first night. But, I will give you all the cuddles in the world tonight, don't you worry about that."

"As long as you didn't pick up the habit of snoring overseas then I'm all for that, babe."

***

Jay woke up to the sound of soft whimpering. It sounded like it was coming from the hallway but he couldn't be sure. He reached over Hailey and was about to grab her gun from her drawer where he knew that she kept it, but stopped when he remembered that it was probably just you. It wasn't just Jay and Hailey in the house anymore; you were there as well and that's probably where the noise was coming from. And, he didn't want to scare you by holding a gun.

He glanced over at the clock. 3 am. Yeah, sounds about right that you'd be waking up right about now since you'd slept for about nine hours and it was 9 am in Spain right now.

Jay slowly tiptoed out into the hallway, cursing himself that he hadn't left a light on or kept his and Hailey's bedroom door open so you could find them easily.

Jay reached out for the hall light switch and flicked on the lights, causing you to jump. "Hey, hey, it's just me. It's just Jay," he said calmly once he laid eyes on you. You were holding Osito and there were fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Jay never knew the force of an eight-year-old running into him could be so strong as to almost knock him over. You dropped Osito and wrapped your arms around him as if your life depended on it.

"It's okay, it's okay," Jay soothed. "What's wrong, cariña? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I no know where I was," you mumbled into his shirt. "Was dark. Think you and Hailey left, so I came to find you."

"Oh, sweetie," Jay started. "I'm sorry. I forgot to turn the light on for you in your room so that you'd know where you are. And, me and Hailey would never leave you."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Your stomach grumbled. "Hungry?" you nodded. "Alright, let's get you a sandwich and then get you back to bed."

"You eat too?" you asked.

"You know, I could go for a sandwich."

***

The next morning, Hailey rolled over to see that Jay wasn't in bed next to her and his side of the bed was cold. Then, she remembered you and walked over to your room and slowly opened the door. You looked up from the Spanish book you were reading and put a finger to your lips.

"Jay sleeping," you told Hailey.

Jay was sitting upright in your bed against the headboard, his thumb holding a place in what looked to be a Nancy Drew book.

"Did Jay read to you last night, huh?" Hailey asked as she walked closer to you and Jay.

"Yeah, he told me that Nancy does what you and Jay do with policia. Then, I sleep again and then I wake up and he sleep again, so I started reading in Spanish."

"I think we should let him sleep a little more while we go finish High School Musical and eat palomitas before Jay eats it all. Does that sound good?"

You nodded eagerly and closed your book. Then, you got out of bed and followed Hailey out of your room. And, after hearing that Jay had read to you and seeing him sleeping upright in your bed so that you'd be able to sleep, she had one more reason why she was truly head over heels for the man she married and got to call her husband.

"Look, Jay. She wrote her birthday in here for age 9," Hailey said as she pointed to the laptop screen.

"God, I don't think I'll forget that day for the rest of my life. It was such a good day."

"You are such a sap when it comes to Y/N."

"Hey! let me be sappy about our daughter, Hailey Anne. She's in high school now, high school. That means she'll be going off to college soon."

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself, sergeant," she joked. "Just keep reading this. It was your idea to snoop through her stuff after all."

"Jay, you got the stuff?" Hailey asked as she was sitting cross-legged on their bedroom floor with wrapping paper, tape, and scissors in front of her.

"Jesus, Hails," Jay laughed, "You make it sound like we're doing a drug deal."

"Well sorry if I want her birthday to go really well. Now, did you get them or not?"

"They're in here." He set a plastic bag down on the bed. He took out three framed pictures and laid them out on the bed. Of course, he made sure that the frames were different shades of purple. "Good?"

Hailey stood up and looked at the pictures. "I never know the CPD's sketch software could work miracles like this, so yeah, I'd say we did good."

Over the past month, everyone in Intelligence had told you that they were testing out a new sketch software to use to try to track down criminals. They let you play with it because they said they wanted to see what it would do...even though they knew what it did, how good it was, and it wasn't new. It was just a ploy to make sure they got your birthday gift right. They had told you to try and input someone's face from memory, someone like your older sister, Illiana.

So, when you had to go to the district for the day with Jay and Hailey, you'd ask to play with that software to work on your sketch. Little did you know, they were printing it out on fancy photo paper and putting it in a frame for your birthday. Jay had also swiped your necklace one day when you had taken it off to go swimming and had taken pictures of what your mom and dad looked like. Then, he and Hailey each took one parent and worked on making their faces through the CPD's sketch software.

"Now what the hell is this?" Jay asked as he held up a big board that Hailey had laying out in front of her as well.

"That, Jay, is so we can stick the back of the frames to it so that we don't have to give the three of them to her separately. Then, she can just take them off from it and place them wherever she wants in her room."

"You're smart. Maybe you should've gone to law school."

"Haha, very funny, Halstead. But then I wouldn't have met you."

"Eh, I beg to differ. You'd probably end up being some prosecution or defense attorney and then I'd have to testify, and after getting yelled at by you on the stand, I'd end up making an ass of myself and ask you out for a drink."

"Is that so?"

"That is very much so."

He walked up to her and grabbed her by the waist and she gave him a peck on the lips. "Hails," Jay whined. "Why'd you phone it in?"

"Because we have presents to wrap. Now, sit your ass down on the carpet and help me."

"Yes ma'am. But, damn, you're really going to be the death of me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

***

"Before we do cake everyone, me and Hailey have one more gift for Y/N," Jay announced by tapping a fork gently against his champagne glass. Yes, the adults were drinking champagne because they were celebrating your first birthday with them as their kid. No, they wouldn't even give you one sip...but you didn't care and you didn't ask.

You had gotten spoiled all day. Will had taken you out for breakfast where you had gotten chocolate chip pancakes with all the toppings. Then, he took you to the sporting goods store where you bought an FC Madrid jersey and to Barnes Noble where you bought a few new books.

Then, when you got home, you were surprised to find everyone from Intelligence there along with some people from Med, and firehouse 51. Emilia, Mouse, and Makayla were there, and your friend, Rosa, whom Emilia had introduced you to earlier in the year at her welcome home party since Rosa was one of Emilia's little cousins.

You had gone outside and played a huge soccer game. And, when you got sick of playing soccer, Emilia busted out a makeup kit she had bought for you. And you, Makayla, Emilia, and Rosa did each other's makeup. While the four of you were doing makeup, a soccer tournament had broken out where Intelligence played Med, and then the winner of that game played Firehouse 51. Intelligence won against Med...mostly due to Jay. But, then they played 51 and they got creamed.

"Here you go, nena," Hailey said as she passed you the gift. Hailey had started calling you nena since Jay had a nickname for you, cariña, which you learned now meant sweetheart in English. So, she decided to call you nena, which meant honey. And, you and Hailey had thought it only fair if you came up with a nickname for Jay. So, the one you decided on was quite fitting in your mind: pecas...which translated to freckles. And, Will, well Will calls you Osa because your favorite animal is a bear. It's probably one of only three words he knows in Spanish next to hola and adios.

The gift was long and hard...like a piece of wood. You slowly opened the gift, wondering what else you could have possibly gotten.

You bit your lip as you finished tearing the paper off and flipped it over. "Mamí, Papí, Illiana," you whispered as you held back tears. "¿Cómo lo hicisteis?" you asked. Seeing as Jay and Hailey had been working very hard on their Spanish for the past nine months, they could understand you and could sometimes explain an English word to you in Spanish if needed.

"We didn't really need to test out the drawing thing," Jay answered. "We just needed a picture of Illiana. And, I got the pictures of your parents from the locket."

At this, you started to cry harder, remembering that day when Jay had to cut your necklace off of you in the back of the Med truck in Spain.

You stood up and hugged both Jay and Hailey at the same time. Now, you had both of your families watching over you: your biological family from in heaven and your parents in the here and now. And, your biological family now had no doubt in their mind up there that you would never, ever forget them.

"You remember what she called us that night?" Hailey asked.

"How could I forget? It was the first night she called us mom and dad. I still remember her exact words when I told her we weren't trying to replace her biological family: Son mi familia en el cielo y en mi corazon, pero vosotros sois mi familia aquí."

"They're my family in heaven and in my heart, but you are my family here."

"Exactly."

"Oh my God!" Hailey laughed. "She wrote sixth-grade: I cheated on a literature test and Mom had to come to pick me up and I got in trouble. And then, Dad went full-on dad-mode."

"No fucking way," Jay laughed as he brought the laptop closer to him and looked for the sixth-grade section. "I can't believe this is what she's going to write about!"

"Well, in her defense, it was the first time we had to ground her and the first time you went full-on, overprotective, my daughter can do no wrong dad-mode."

"Pretty sure the next time I'll do that is when she gets asked to the homecoming dance later this year."

"Jay! You will not! You will not scare the boys away from our daughter!"

"Well, they should be scared!" Jay argued. "We're both cops, babe. We can make their death look like an accident."

"Jay, what you're talking about is murder and I shouldn't have to remind you that that is illegal. If so, I am going to the Ivory Tower tomorrow to get you stripped of your sergeant title."

"Fine, fine. The next time I'll do that is when she gets her driver's license."

"Hey, on the bright side, we wouldn't have to pick her up from the principal's office then," Hailey pointed out. "She could just drive herself home."

"We wouldn't have to figure out which of us should go pick her up like last time?"

"Exactly. And I'm pretty sure she was thankful that it was you and not me who picked her up in sixth grade."

"Miss Halstead," your literature teacher said as she stalked over to you from the other side of the classroom. "Care to tell me what you have under your sleeve?"

"My arm?"

"I don't like being disrespected in my classroom. We both know you have your phone in there. And, lying to me will just make this worse."

"I-I needed it," you stammered, not wanting to have the whole class hear how stupid you were.

"For a test? You know the rules: no cheating. Principal's office, now. Grab your stuff. And, I'll be calling your parents as you walk down there."

You grabbed your backpack and started your walk to the principal's office. It's not like you had a choice...well, you did have a choice. You could've just not used your phone on the test. But, after that last grade you got on that essay and how weirdly worded the questions were, you basically had no choice but to use your phone. It's not like you were using it to look up the answers per se, but you were using it to try and understand the questions because there was no way you were going to ask that teacher.

"Mrs. Halstead, right this way," you heard the office secretary say as they led Hailey to the principal's office. Your phone was sitting on the principal's desk, the tab you had been using to cheat open and you were fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. You had thought about deleting your search history, but knew it wouldn't be of any use because Jay and Hailey would just be able to look it up with whatever police software crap that Intelligence had access to. You knew you'd be in more trouble if you deleted it and they found out that you were lying, so you decided you wouldn't delete it...even though you were regretting that decision as your phone screen stared back at you.

"May I ask why my daughter is in the principal's office when I thought she should be taking a test?" Jay and Hailey knew all about your literature test that day as you had read the book twice to be ready for it.

"That's exactly why she's in here, Mrs. Halstead," the principal told Hailey. "She was trying to cheat on her literature test."

"She wouldn't do that!" Hailey defended you. "She studied so hard!" She looked between both you and the principal, but your gaze stayed trained on the floor.

"Just take a look."

He passed Hailey your phone and she looked at the search history and the timestamps of said history. "Y/N, is this true?"

You nodded. Hailey sighed. "I'm assuming she's suspended?"

"Since this is her first academic infraction, I'm not going to suspend her. She does need to go home for the rest of the school day, though."

"Thank you. C'mon Y/N, let's go."

You hung your head as you left the middle school, Hailey holding your phone and still trying to figure out why you did this. But she knew that one thing was for sure: the minute Jay got home, he would not be happy.

***

"You're kidding me, right?" you heard Jay ask Hailey in the kitchen.

You were currently in your room, but the kitchen was right down the hall, so if you were quiet and focused enough, you could hear their conversation.

"I wish I was, Jay," Hailey said. "Just...here, take a look."

You assumed that Hailey was handing Jay the phone and he was looking at your search history.

Jay took a deep breath and restrained himself from shoving the chair into the kitchen table.

You heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall and quickly locked your door and then sat back down on your bed.

You heard the doorknob jiggle as Jay tried to open your door.

"Y/N! ¡Abras la puerta inmediatamente!" (Open the door immediately!)

You were in deep shit if he was yelling at you in Spanish.

You didn't move from your bed.

"¡Ábrelo ahora!" (Open it now!)

"¡Estoy viniendo! ¡Calmáse!" (I'm coming! Calm yourself!) You got up from the bed and opened the door.

"Do not ever, ever tell me to calm down ever again! Do you understand me?" Jay asked angrily as he flung open your door after he had unlocked it. You nodded. "Now, I understand that you were caught cheating on a test. Care to explain that to me?"

"Not really," you sighed as you sat on your bed.

"I'm giving you one more chance to explain to me why you chose to cheat. And I suggest you tell me the truth, kid."

You looked up to be met with Hailey standing in the doorway. She nodded to you as if to say you better listen to your dad.

"Well?" he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"I needed to cheat!"

"Nobody needs to cheat!"

"Well, I did!" You dug through your backpack and found the paper you had to write for the class that your teacher failed you on. "Because of this!" You threw the paper on your bed. "And because my teacher is a puta!"

"You do not call your teacher a bitch, young lady!" Jay yelled.

"Jay!" Hailey yelled. "Take the paper, go to our room and read it and calm down!"

"So Mom can tell you to calm down but I can't?"

Jay turned back to you, but Hailey grabbed his arm. "Bedroom Jay. Now." He left the room and Hailey turned to you. "As for you. You're grounded from your phone for the foreseeable future. Sorry, nena. Now, we'll be back to talk to you after we've read whatever it is you threw on your bed."

***

"We read the paper," Jay said as he and Hailey entered your room again fifteen minutes later. "And, I'm sorry for yelling. I know me and your mom are both detectives, but it'd look better if you told us why you cheated instead of leaving us to put the pieces together."

"I'm sorry, I really am. It's just, I failed that paper. And, I worked really hard on it. And, she said it wasn't a real tradition."

The paper topic was to write about a family tradition and you wrote about the Spanish tradition of eating grapes on New Year's Eve. With twelve seconds left of the year, you'd put a grape in your mouth for every second that passed. You'd try to get all twelve grapes in your mouth, but that was really hard. You wrote about the last time you did it with your family and your papí almost got all of them in your mouth while you only got three in your mouth since you were only three years old at the time.

One of the grading criteria for the paper was that it had to be a real tradition.

"She said that it wasn't a real tradition, Dad. She said that because she had never heard of it and that it sounded weird to her, that it wasn't real. So, she failed me. I also put some Spanish words in there, but I put the translations next to it. I thought it would make it more...what's the word? It's kind of like real? Like it'd make it more real to read? You know that word for it?"

"Authentic?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that. I thought it'd make it more authentic to read. And, I knew the material of the book. But, the questions were so confusing and I didn't want to ask her to clarify because she's mean."

"So you googled the questions to try to figure out what they were asking?" Hailey asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't want you to be disappointed in me and think that I've been here for four years and not know English."

"Oh, cariña." Jay crouched in front of you. "We'd never think that. I promise. And I know Mom would never think that either, right?"

"That's right," Hailey agreed.

"Now, I have to go make a phone call."

"You went off on that teacher, Jay! I don't think I've ever heard you that angry when you weren't in interrogation!" Hailey laughed.

"Well yeah! That teacher's logic and grading criteria were seriously flawed. And, you read that paper. It was really good. As Y/N put it that day, she really was a puta."

Hailey rolled her eyes.

"Wish for the future," Jay read aloud. "I wish that I could figure out why Los Rebeldes came to the orphanage and killed Illiana."

"I think that's enough snooping through her stuff for the day, babe," Hailey said, beginning to feel uncomfortable reading this. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna take a quick shower and I'll be back, okay? I love you." He gave Hailey a quick peck on the lips and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower.

"I love you, too."

But, Jay barely heard her. He was so lost in thought about how to get answers for you, for his daughter. Hell, he wanted those answers just as bad as you. What kind of sick bastard would come into an orphanage heavily armed and just kill innocent civilians and innocent children?

***

"Mouse," Jay said as he entered the bullpen the next morning, "I need your help with something."

"Jeez, Jay, you're late," Ruzek commented. "Where's Hailey?"

"It's her RDO. And, I promised Y/N a frappuccino because she had to wake up early for school and had to go to bed late last night because we were working a case."

"Does Hailey--"

"No, Adam. Hailey does not know that I gave our fourteen-year-old daughter sugar-laced coffee this morning. And, if you so much as say the words frappuccino, Jay, and Y/N in the same sentence, I will bump you back down to patrol so fast you won't know what hit you."

Jay started to walk towards the tech area where he assumed Mouse would be. His voice carried, so he hoped he'd heard him when he'd said he needed his help.

"Whose idea was it to give Jay all this power?" Adam asked rhetorically. "I think it's going to his head."

"I heard that Ruz!"

"You needed something, Jay?" Mouse asked as he turned around from his laptop and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, can you do something off the books for me?"

"You don't even have to ask anymore, man."

"Just need to make sure you don't assign a case number to it."

"I can do that. Now, what do you need?"

Jay pulled out his phone and pulled up a Spanish newspaper article from two weeks ago. He laid the phone in front of Mouse. "This. This is why I need you."

Mouse looked at the phone and back up at Jay with raised eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to translate that. I don't speak Spanish."

"Says that the guy who killed everyone in the orphanage that Y/N was in is meeting with his lawyer about an appeal. That son of a bitch. And, it's happening on Monday."

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday or you'll know if he won the appeal or not on Monday?" Mouse asked.

"He's meeting with his lawyer on Monday."

"And you need me because...?"

"Think you can hack into Spain's maximum-security federal prison system?"

"You cannot be serious."

"I am dead serious, Mouse."

"Why don't you just wait to hear the news?"

Jay sighed and took a seat next to Mouse. "Y/N has to write a paper and was using my laptop. It was this narrative thing for her senior project, so it's due in a few years. But, I'll spare you the details. Y/N had to write what one of her wishes for the future was and she wrote that she wants to know why the guy killed everyone in the orphanage. Not who, because we already know that it was Raúl Rodríguez. She wants to know why."

"That guy's the one who told them to attack the orphanage? The one that killed her sister, right?"

"That's the prick."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'd know that if it was my sister or my kid that I'd want to know."

"Thanks, man."

"Video and audio?"

"Yeah. I'm probably gonna get Emilia in on this too to translate."

"Why? Don't you and Hailey speak Spanish?"

"We do, but they're gonna talk really fast and I probably don't know law lingo except for the word lawyer."

"Fair enough. I'll get to work."

***

"Hails, Hails," Jay shook Hailey awake.

"Jay? Why are you home so late?" she asked as she rolled over and opened her eyes. It was almost 11:30 and she had gone to bed half an hour ago...she thought Jay would've been home by 11:00.

"Paperwork," Jay answered honestly. He instantly regretted his decision of waking Hailey up knowing her history of insomnia. "But, I shouldn't have woke you up. I'm sorry, babe."

"No, I'm awake now. What's up?" She sat up in bed and turned on the lamp to see Jay changing out of his clothes and into his pajama pants and an old t-shirt. "You don't have to sleep with a shirt on you know."

Jay smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? But, don't want our daughter to walk in on me shirtless."

"She's spending the night at Rosa's," Hailey informed him.

"In that case..." Jay trailed off and took off his t-shirt along with his pajama pants so that he was just in his boxers. "Better?"

"Much better."

Jay pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and slid in next to his wife. She cuddled into his side and he wrapped an arm around her.

"What'd you want to tell me?" she asked.

"How do you know I wanted to tell you something?"

"You had that look in your eye, Jay Halstead. Now, tell me."

"So persuasive." He rolled his eyes playfully.

"Shut up."

"You love it, though." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "You know how Y/N's biggest wish was to know why Raúl Rodríguez attacked the orphanage?"

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm gonna find out why."

She pulled away from him. "What? How? You're going to Spain? To interrogate him? You know the CPD doesn't have jurisdiction there even though you were a ranger there, right?"

"Hails, I'm not going overseas to find him. I promise you that."

"Okay." She settled back into his embrace. "Then what are you doing?"

"Having Mouse see if he can hack into the prison system so that I can watch the lawyer talk to him."

"And you're going to be able to understand everything they're saying?"

"No, but Emilia will."

"You called her and told her your plan before you told me?"

"No! The only person who knows is Mouse. I figured I'd call Emilia tomorrow. Like I said, I was just at the district late doing paperwork."

"Okay, I believe you. And, we're not going to have her in the room with us, Y/N that is? We're going to tell her why he did this so she doesn't have to hear it from him?"

"Precisely. Now, am I right in assuming that since Y/N's gone for the night that we can be as loud as we want?"

"You are very much correct in that." Then, he gave her a kiss...and this time, he didn't phone it in at a peck.

***

You were sitting in the breakroom Monday afternoon trying to do some American history homework. There was so much reading involved, but it was okay because you liked history. And, there were pictures in the textbook...it wasn't like you were reading Romeo and Juliet like you had to do in English class.

You knew Emilia was here because she had brought you some fries, much to your mom and dad's dismay since your mom had packed you a few extra snacks. But, Emilia said she had to hold up her reputation as your cool aunt...even if she wasn't related to you whatsoever. And so far, she was holding it up.

You didn't know why she was here, but you assumed it was because Kim was in the field and they needed someone to translate audio. Sometimes Jay would call in Emilia if he knew that she wasn't working to do some translating so he didn't have to deal with calling up a patrolman. You also knew from hearing some of his conversations with Will that Will wanted to ask her out.

And, you hoped she say yes. You wanted Emilia to be your actual aunt. Apparently, she had a thing for doctors according to Jay's side of the phone conversations you'd heard, so you hoped it'd work out if your uncle Will ever got the balls to ask her out.

All of a sudden, Emilia came into Jay's office and he took off running. Hailey saw this and she started following them.

"What?" you asked yourself.

They always would tell you if they had to leave and they'd always be sure to tell you they loved you before they left.

You quietly walked out of the breakroom and towards where you had seen them running to. You assumed they were in the tech area because of the direction they ran in and the fact that whenever Emilia was here, she was most likely in the tech room.

As you got closer, you started hearing Spanish.

Someone talking about an attack...an attack on an orphanage.

A man said it was in the Tabernas Desert.

You peeked your head around the corner to see that on the screen there was a man in a nice suit and someone sitting at a table with handcuffs on.

"Anything we don't already know?" Hailey asked.

"Not that it sounds like right now," Emilia answered. "They're just talking about the orphanage Y/N and Illiana were in and where it was."

So this is the guy who did it. This was the guy--no, the monster--who led the attack that killed your sister.

"The lawyer just asked Rodríguez why he did it," Emilia said.

"And?" Jay asked

"Jay, I need to be able to hear them talk, so shut up."

Jay held his hands up in a sign of surrender.

"The lawyer just asked if it was something personal, something like Rodríguez being an orphan and he didn't have a good experience there so he attacked it, something that would tug at the board of appeals heartstrings essentially." There was a pause as Emilia continued listening. "He said no." She paused again. "Oh my God."

"What?" Jay asked frantically. "Why did that prick kill innocent children?"

"He said he ordered the attack because the orphanage was receiving aid from the US, for things such as food, clothing, and basic necessities."

"Un-fucking-believable." Jay wanted to punch something, but he restrained himself. "So, because our country was helping those who couldn't help themselves, this prick went after them?"

"That's what it sounds like. I'm sorry, Jay."

"Hails, how are we going to tell Y/N?"

"You guys don't have to tell me," you said as you made your presence known. "I heard the whole thing."

Jay sighed. "I'm sorry cariña, really I am. I'm sorry that this happened to you. That you had to find out this way. That this was the reason for what that monster did. I'm sorry."

"Dad read my outline?" you asked, turning to Hailey.

"Yeah, nena, he did. It was just open and you know him, he couldn't stop himself."

"Because he's a detective before he's a sergeant, just like Nancy Drew," you said, bringing it back to the books you'd used to read with your dad every night when you had just come over to the states from Spain and were working on your English.

"This should never have happened," Jay said softly as he walked over to you and brought you into a tight hug. "People that do these kinds of horrific acts shouldn't have the right to be born, much less to live."

"But if that wouldn't have happened you wouldn't have found me. And I wouldn't have found my forever Mom and Dad."

A/N: I wrote over 6.5k words to get this posted today! That's a new personal record for me! Also, my neuroscience class is kicking my butt right now, so if I don't update as frequently, that's why. Hopefully, I'll get one out every week or every two weeks at the latest. Please like/reblog and comment because I love getting feedback and it keeps me motivated to write. If you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! 

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluffiest fluff ever, jealous amoreena, jealous spencer, the LaMontagne family is in this too !!

word count: 3.8K

from the beginning <3

He went to work with Y/N on Tuesday to fill out all the paperwork and officially become an employee at the D.C Public Library. He signed a contract, he was switched over to a different government healthcare, answering a million calls and emails all morning, he was officially not an FBI agent.

They had lunch together in the park, buying some sandwiches and walking across the street to a picnic table to talk about their days while they ate. He liked her co-workers, they all were shocked to find out she was “married” to him after being single the whole time she’s worked there.

They had plans to go get Amoreena from school a few minutes early, before heading to meet his mother, not telling her about the plans unless Diana had a bad day last minute and couldn’t see them. So far, according to the nurses, she was lucid and having a great day waiting for them.

“So about yesterday morning,” Y/N changed the subject, biting her lip like she was avoiding this.

“What about it?”

“Amoreena really wants us to have a wedding, I was thinking we could go up to New York for fathers day and have another fake wedding?” Y/N hypothesized her plan, hoping for Spencer’s approval.

He couldn’t help but smile, about to answer when he got an email on his phone. “I’d love to do that, it would be nice to go on a vacation with just as the three of us.”

“You can check that,” she said, noticing he looked at his phone as it buzzed.

It was an email. Not from anyone he knew, it wasn’t about work or healthcare, it wasn’t his mom or Penelope sending him funny things from the internet…

No, it was from Taylor Swift. He tried his best to calm his facial reactions and micro-expressions so she’d think it was just something work-related. An emailed contract, updated health forms, nothing too serious.

To: Spencer Reid From: Taylor Swift Subject: Amoreena

Hey Spencer!

Portia reached out and said that your wife and daughter are huge fans and you were interested in some summer tickets in Virginia… I was thinking if you guys ever found yourself in Rhode Island you’d all want to come to my place, my doors always open for friends 💛 Love Taylor xx

“What?” Y/n asked, trying to read over his shoulder as he turned the phone away.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket to reply to her later. “Have you ever thought about a beach wedding? Rhode Island is pretty nice in June.”

She tilted her head as she bit back a smile, wondering what he was planning, “Amoreena will have us reenact the little mermaid 2 instead of Enchanted then, just fyi, but yeah that sounds fun, we should get a beach house on Airbnb for the weekend.”

“Okay, let me handle it all, you don’t need to plan a single thing, just show up with a dress?” Spencer offered, knowing how scared weddings made her now.

She kissed his cheek softly, resting her chin on his shoulder as she leaned over on him, “nothing fancy or crazy okay?”

“Define crazy?” He teased her… she really had no idea what was coming.

To: Taylor Swift From: Spencer Reid Subject: RE: Amoreena

Thank you so much for the quick response and generous offer, we were thinking of having a small elopement in Rhode Island with just the three of us over Father’s Day weekend if that works for you? Seven is the song we danced to at our intimate personal wedding, however, Amoreena’s pretty sad she didn’t get to witness it, that’s why we’re having another one with her. (And hopefully you!) Thank you for making my girls so happy over all the years that I didn’t know them yet, you’re probably their favourite person in the world, even more so than me! It would mean everything to them to meet you or see you in any way, you’re incredibly kind for this.

Thanks again, Spencer Reid x

He tried his best to be as calm and nice as possible in his response, still managing to rant a little even in text format. It was just how he communicated, either not at all or all at once. He was so excited for Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you said your mom has a scrapbook,” Y/N changed the subject after Spencer spent 5 minutes in silence, turned away from her as he answered an email.

“She does, she’s going to show you a lot of photos of me today,” he smiled at the fact she remembered.

“I know you want to tell her about Amoreena alone before we come in, so I made her something for her scrapbook, it’s back on my desk drying,” Y/N was so precious as she got excited, that same giddiness he see’s in Amoreena bursting through her.

“Okay, let’s go see it,” he put his phone in his pocket and followed her back across the street towards the library.

On some beautiful floral scrapbook paper, Y/N glued an array of photos of Amoreena from the beginning all the way to the museum trip last week.

A photo of her first round of IVF, dated February 19th, 2013. Exactly 1 month after he donated, she must have chosen his sample as soon as it entered the system, even a photo of the sample jar reading “sample 2319”, A photo of her crying in the garden with her grandma when she found it she was pregnant, wrapped in a big coat and surrounded by snow. Her pregnancy announcement being a baby sock on a stuffed toy Sully from Monsters Inc, "new door opening November 2013!" Amoreena has been surrounded by references to books and movies since the beginning.

There was a photo from the moment Amoreena was born, crying and brand-new, resting on Y/N’s chest as she sobbed, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before, completely in love with the child she made.

Amoreena Margery Y/L/N - November 13th, 2013, 9:53 pm 7lbs 12oz, 21 inches of perfection

“Her middle name is Margery?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back at his ever glowing face, wondering why it was so important to him. “Like Margery Kempe, my grandma’s favourite.”

“She’s my mom’s favourite too,” Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, it was such a strange turn of events. He saw so much of his mother in Amoreena just for her to have a middle name related to her.

Y/N couldn’t believe it, “I’m so excited to meet her!”

“I just hope she’s okay today, truly,” Spencer worried. “She is my best friend and a great mother, don’t get me wrong. But some of the things she did to me on her bad days were scary, and I never want Amoreena to experience that.”

Y/N pulled him into a hug, “it’s hereditary isn’t it?” He nodded against her shoulder as she tried to soothe all the impending anxiety out of his body. “I’m not going anywhere, she won't have to raise herself and care for you, that’ll never happen to her.”

She guessed, and she was right. Reading his mind like she’s already been in there and watched all his trauma, she knew all the right words and how exactly to push his feelings away. She was sunshine clearing his grey skies once more, about to cause a drought so he’d no longer rain on his own parade. Marching beside him, hand in hand into the future.

—

They waited at the gate of Amoreena’s school, none of the other parents were waiting yet, giving Y/N a chance to show Spencer around the yard and tell him about her school. “She’s in senior kindergarten, she has a November birthday so I opted to send her in when she was 6 instead of 5, giving me an extra year of home pre-school.”

“That’s why she’s so smart, not my genes,” Spencer smiled, walking around the edge of the gate with her hand still in his.

“They want her to jump right into grade 5 next year, I said no, she deserves a childhood with children she doesn’t have to compete with or see her as a threat,” Y/N voice was stern even in the recounting like she knew from experience. “Because she’ll be 8 in November she’s going into grade 2 instead, then she’ll be in the same age range and mental level, but all her friends she knows in grade 1 will be in the same recess yard as her.”

“I went from kindergarten to grade 4, then I jumped to grade 6 when I was 9 and I graduated high school at 13, it was terrible,” Spencer agreed, not knowing if he had a place in the decision but wanting her to know he agreed with it.

“Let’s go inside and get her,” Y/N smiled at him, understanding his meaning perfectly and dragging him into the school.

“Hello miss Ludlough,” Y/N beamed as she entered the main office with her arm tucked under Spencers, showing him off slightly.

“Y/N, good afternoon! Do you need me to call that little angel down early?” The secretary was a lovely older woman, wrinkled and happy as she smiled back.

“No, I just need to get some paperwork to put her dad in the files?” Y/N surprised Spencer with that and he almost stopped breathing.

“Really?” He whispered, capturing her attention as her eyes twinkled up at him.

“I’d like you on her emergency contacts, if they can’t get ahold of me I’d like you to be with her,” Y/N confirmed, patting his shoulder softly as Miss Ludlough handed her a few forms.

Spencer signed everywhere he needed to, handing them his licence to be photocopied into her file for proof when he picked her up in the future. He was glad to see there was a system, that they cared for his little girl and she wasn’t going to be going home with anyone who wasn’t in that file. And if she did he had no problem hunting them down and getting her back in whatever way he had to…

He shook the thought out of his head as it arises, reminding himself that that isn’t who he is now and she would be fine. They lived in a happy world where bad things didn’t happen.

Y/N’s hand rubbing his lower back helped, he stood straight again and pushed the papers over the desk, smiling as he officially became her father on 3 different sheets of paper. That was as real as it could get.

“Spence?” He heard an all to familiar voice from behind him.

Turning to see JJ and Will smiling with wide arms, waiting for his embrace. “What are you doing here?” She asked him, voice high as she was clearly shocked.

He walked into her arms and held her quickly, “I’m here with my wife,” breaking the news to her in the most casual way possible. “Picking up our kid.”

“Y/N?” Will noticed her then, “holy shit, you’re the wife?”

She nodded with a smile, hugging will quickly like she has known him for years, “how are you, cowboy?”

Spencer and JJ looked at each other incredibly confused, JJ clearly didn’t know her so how did Will?

“Will and I have been on what, 6 school trips together? Michael and Amoreena are buddies,” Y/N explained with a soft smile, “I knew Henry and Michaels's names sounded familiar…”

“Nini thinks I’m a cowboy,” Will laughed lightly, smiling at Y/N the way he did at JJ and something in Spencer almost snapped thinking about Will being the one person between him and the girl he liked, once again.

Only this time she was his wife and not the cute media liaison who had no interest in him until he came out of prison.

“She was very upset when she found out that Will was already married, she wanted us to be Woody and Jessie from toy story,” Y/N had no problem ranting about how their kids got along and how good of friends they had become over the last 2 years of school trips.

Y/N noticed the anxiety in Spencer’s eyes as he pulled away from JJ and made sure no one was touching him, “luckily, our little girl’s got the best daddy in the whole world now and all her dreams came true.”

“She sure does,” JJ agreed, “Hey, I gave your mom all those books you gave me for the boys, when you were away, so she had something to keep remembering you with, you should give them to Amoreena.”

“I will, we’re going to see her tonight,” he was able to push past the feelings and enjoy the moment of his friends meeting his wife, even if the title was just pretend.

“I’m so excited,” Y/N shook her hands the same way Amoreena did, stepping into Spencer's space and wrapping her arm around him. “Can we pick her up from the room Miss Ludlough?”

“Sure thing, do you want me to call down and say Mikey’s parents are here too?”

“Yes, please,” JJ smiled over the counter.

With the four of them walking down the hall together to get their kids, Spencer felt like he was sleepwalking. Too many emotions were running through his veins to feel real, but then Y/N took his hand in hers and rested her cheek against his arm as they walked and he was fine.

She tugged on his arm and waited in the hallway while JJ and Will entered the classroom first, “what’s wrong, she’ll know you’re upset?”

He sighs, shaking the stupidity out of his mind. “I had a huge crush on JJ before they got pregnant with Henry, and when I came back from prison she told me she had always loved me and it got weird for a bit and I’m still kinda mad when I see Will bond with the people I love.”

“I was wondering when you’d get possessive,” she teased him, “I’m yours and I wouldn’t have your ring on if I wasn’t, no matter how another man looks at me, I only love you.”

“I’m sorry, I know.”

“It’s okay, you’re not used to this are you?” She saw right through it. “Am I your first real girlfriend?”

“Kinda, Maeve and I never even really met until she was kidnapped,” he admits and it sounds so childish in his mind.

“Okay we’ll talk about this later cause that sounds like a good story I should know,” she tried to smile, standing on her tiptoes to peck his lips softly before smiling more. “Let’s go get your kid?”

“Let's,” his smile returned.

They turned the corner into the vibrant room, Amoreena was talking to Will when she noticed Spencer at the door, running towards him and almost pushing Will over to do so, “Dad!”

He picked her up and snuggled right into the crook of her little neck, giving her the biggest hug he’s ever given and not realizing just how much he missed her until she was back in his arms again. His baby, the littlest life he’s ever held this close to his heart.

When he put her down he noticed all the women’s eyes were on him, hands over their hearts at the pure display of affection between father and daughter. They all saw him as her dad, they had no reason not to, giving him all the attention he’s never received before.

“What are you doing here?” Her tiny voice asked as she beamed at him with wonder.

He kneeled in front of her to get on her eye level when Michael came running over, “Hi uncle Spencer!” He tackled him into a hug.

“Uncle Spencer?” Amoreena’s brow furrowed as she scowled at the boy taking her dad’s attention, she pulled Michael back by his shirt. “That’s my dad!”

“Amoreena, honey,” Spencer tried not to laugh, she was definitely his kid, “Michels mom, JJ, is my best friend from work and I’m his older brother Henry’s godfather, they’re your cousins.”

She looked at him like he was insane, “what’s a godfather?”

“If anything bad happens to his mommy or daddy and they can’t take care of them, they’ll come live with us,” it was the simplest answer, “I’m not their father, I’m yours.”

She nodded and hugged him again, sticking her tongue out at Michael in the process, “why are you here?” She repeated the question.

Y/N was standing over him with a hand on his shoulder then, “we’re taking you to meet your other grandma.”

Amoreena started to shake with excitement, moving her hands and grinding her teeth as she smiles, shrieking with excitement, “I have another grandma!?”

JJ was watching from the corner of the room, secretly filming it on her phone for the rest of the team to see Spencer with his baby. A sight many of them never thought they’d ever see as he slowly lost hope, losing himself somewhere along the way and no longer wanting to accept their help. This was a big moment for the team too, their little brother was finally happy.

—

In the car, Spencer sat with Amoreena in the back seat so he could tell her everything about her new grandma. Or as Amoreena wanted to call her, Princess Diana, “I can’t believe you’re actually royalty!”

They all laugh at how her fantastic little brain works, “you can’t tell anyone that Princess Diana is in DC okay? It’s a government secret!” Y/N teased from the driver's seat.

“I’m like Princess Mia!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and Spencer was astounded she could be that loud.

“Okay, okay, not that loud! we can't scare any of the people who live here. They like it to be calm and quiet so the patients can be happy,” Y/N settled her down, “Dad is going to go in and tell grandma all about us for a little while and then we’ll go meet her okay? He wants to make sure she’s happy today before we go in.”

With that, they were pulling into his mother's care facility and he felt like he was going to be sick with excitement. He used to visit his mother with the fear of rage and disappointment in her eyes, he was too proud to let his anxiety take that from him today.

He kissed her forehead before getting out, Y/N handed him the scrapbook pages through the window and he leaned inside to give her a kiss too. Receiving a disgusted groan from Amoreena, he pulled away and walked into the building while they found a place to park.

She was waiting for him in the garden, sitting at a picnic table with her scrapbook and gifts for Amoreena. “Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled as he hugged her, “how are you feeling?”

“Fantastic, where is this family you made?” She was so ready to meet them, truly there inside her mind and willing to learn more about this life he was making.

“Sit down first,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her at the table and placing the scrapbook page on the table. “This is my Amoreena.”

Her fingers glided over the words, “Margery,” she repeated her middle name with a smile. “She has a sperm donor for a father?”

“I’m a sperm donor, mom,” he smiled softly as he broke the news.

She turned to him with shock, “she’s yours?”

“We think so, so that’s what we’re telling people, she’s mine regardless.”

Diana wrapped him up in another hug, “I’m so happy for you Spencer. You always deserved a perfect family, I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you. I hope your dreams come true with her.”

Just like that Amoreena and Y/N were rounding the corner and walking over towards their table. She had a huge smile on her face and a card in her hand, walking right up to Diana and handing it to her.

“Hi, grandma, I’m Amoreena,” she introduced herself politely before stretching her arms out for a hug.

Diana wrapped her up in the softest little hug, trying not to cry in front of her brand new granddaughter, which was fine because Spencer was the one crying. Turning away from them so Amoreena wouldn’t see as Y/N patted his arm with a smile.

They were fast friends, Y/N and Diana bonding over Margery Kempe and while Amoreena opened the two gifts Diana got for her, a simple colouring book and Spencer's original copy of Matilda from when he was a child. She sat down in the grass and read it while they all caught up, lost in her own little world.

It was the most perfect afternoon, just him and his family, happier than he’s ever dreamed he could be.

—

He checked his phone one last time before bed, Y/N was sitting against the headboard reading a book and so deep in the story, he knew she wouldn’t be able to read over his shoulder.

Scrolling through everything from the day to see that yes, there was a response from Taylor Swift. It felt insane, but he opened it and started to read her plans.

Spencer!! You’re so sweet, I’m sure you make them incredibly happy! I’d love to have you stay in the guest house here, and I’m ordained if you need someone to make it real and official ♥︎ let me know what I can do, I’d love to help in any way to make some fairytale dreams come true! Taylor xx

Smiling like an idiot, he closed his phone. He’d reply tomorrow, till then he was going to snuggle into his wife and appreciate their time together.

She lifted an arm to let him lay against her chest, “today she woke up and decided to be an explorer, the little girl with the wildest imagination stormed out of her home and towards the unknown part of her land. It was her destiny to travel across the bridge and unite the people beyond the field, towards the pond that was swallowed by willow trees,” Y/N read the grandmother's thoughts from the page.

“With her wooden sword, she sliced and diced on the ivy that surrounded the gate. Freeing the hinges and allowing the entrance to swing open, unlocking a new area of the world for her mind to wander.

“For what the regular human eye saw, Amoreena saw it times a million. Every colour and then some, new colours appearing in the morning glow as she stared at the dew on the leaves she just chopped through. She saw the world in a way that made everything exciting, there was never a bad thing, only good things with interesting quirks.

“She passed every mushroom and toadstool, every strange-looking tree and human-shaped moss ball, greeting them with a good morning as she strolled through the once-forbidden forest. Her adventure only beginning, the objective not yet known.”

“Your grandma could see the future,” Spencer whispered as she turned the page, “that’s our wonderful little girl’s mind in words.”

Y/N kissed the top of his head, “our wonderful little girl.” She repeated the words, loving the way they sounded on his tongue as much as he loved how she said it.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[sasstrash]

Please forgive me I've been super focused on school

The Silent Queen 6; A Royal Morning

Raven woke up the same she always did - quietly. No one ever really noticed her until she was outside her room and hallway back in the castle but at school, people smiled and waved at her the second she left her dorm with Maddie. She guessed that the news of her arrival had spread and a lot of people wanted to know the daughter of the Evil Queen. Raven grimaced at the thought, she would have preferred not to be known at all. To just be a minor character in a smaller story. With a happy ending. But that wasn’t who she was, she was Raven Queen and this was her life.

Walking down the corridors to the castleteria was mostly uneventful aside from all the other students who continued looking at her and pointing things out. It was times like these that she wished she could hear. But then again she wasn’t sure how well she’d adjust to suddenly being able to hear. The castleteria itself is big and crowded with white lighting that made everything look brighter than what Raven was used to, many eyes looked over to her and Raven felt herself subconsciously tug at a lavender streak in her hair. This was going to be a long school year.

Cerise stood up and waved over at the pair of newcomers from her table where she sat with Cedar, Hunter, and a few girls who Raven vaguely remembered from yesterday who had been with that blonde- Apple, Apple White. The next Snow White, the one Raven would eventually have to poison. Raven stopped moving for a second at the thought of her destiny. Eyes wide she almost started to shake until Maddie lightly poked her shoulder, pointing to the castleteria’s food table. Raven straightened and followed her roommate and best friend to grab breakfast.

At home, she usually just walks into the kitchen. Chef made pancakes most mornings with berries from the nearby forest and honey on top. Raven always loved those pancakes, even if she had them almost every day. Raven quickly put a few slices of bacon on her plate smiling at the staff before grabbing some fruit salad and a couple of waffles and left to follow Maddie over to Cedar’s table. Most people moved out of the way to let the two girls pass through in order to get to their table. If Raven was being honest she had expected more students to run away from her when she arrived, and yet they all seemed to be completely enamoured by her. Weird. Maybe it was because she hadn’t shown up for regular school until this year, or because no one knew what she looked like (she avoided mirror phones and rarely left the castle grounds), or maybe none of them knew much about deaf people. Or maybe all three. By the time she and Maddie sat down, Raven was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gone to class yet!!

‘Morning Rae, how was your first night at EAH?’ Cerise signed over to her childhood friend. Raven smiled at the nickname, Cerise had given it to her when they were about six, very soon afterwards Raven and Cerise began talking more over chats with their mirror phones as Cerise started elementary school while Raven began to be castleschooled. The two would work on video chats every now and again to keep sign language in Cerise’s vocabulary, (usually with a little help from Ramona too, but it’s not like they could talk about that it was a secret!) so the two stayed connected no matter where they were.

‘It’s been good Cher,’ another nickname that had come from their younger years ‘you know after the whole Headmaster situation me and Maddie set up our dorm. It was definitely different from the castle or your place’ Raven concluded before picking up her fork. She really was hungry after skipping dinner last night. As the others smiled at her she felt a warm fuzzy feeling wash over her, these were her friends, some through childhood, some through the others and they all loved her. She was loved, at least she was now but once she became, that she wouldn’t be. Her smile began to dim just a tad as she bit into her waffle. She shook it off before looking at the three girls she didn’t know the names of. ‘Oh sorry I almost forgot, I’m Raven, and you guys are?’ she asked the brunette in pink, the platinum blonde in white and the ginger with green eyes. Each one smiled at her as brightly as her friends, if not a bit brighter, they were probably princesses, Raven thought to herself before each one signed their names.

‘Briar Beauty’ The girl in all pink signed with slightly tired eyes. Raven immediately made the connection to the Sleeping Beauty Story, it took a lot for her not to frown, that was always such a sad tale, sleeping for a hundred years would mean losing the people she loved. Even still Raven could see that something else was turning in her mind, maybe she’d get to see what that was.

The ginger signed after ‘Ashlynn Ella it’s nice to meet you!’ she had the brightest smile that Raven had seen from the trio. Cinderella’s daughter her mind added in, another story with a happy ending but a tragic beginning, she couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents. Then again it was better than being imprisoned in a mirror, or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes until death, or being crushed by a boulder after falling off of a cliff. Raven’s thoughts were broken as she saw that Ashlynn was sitting very close to Hunter, who seemed to be completely focused on her, the dork had a crush, which seemed to be mutual. If Raven could speak well she would have laughed.

‘I’m Darling Charming but you can call me Darl for short’ The Platinum Blonde signed last as she gave a simple polite smile. Like the one that Raven had been taught to use for visitors and knights when she was younger. A female born Charming? She had heard of it before but it wasn’t common, most of them became small-time princesses with small kingdoms, or took over for the Charming Kingdom when the time came. It would be interesting Raven thought to see where her destiny leads her, after all, Darling definitely had the most open book story out of all of them.

‘It’s nice to meet all of you’ Raven signed before continuing ‘So.. has anyone gotten a schedule, I still haven’t’ It hadn’t been a big surprise to her though, she supposed no one had accounted for her deafness and they might have had to remake her schedule. After she mentioned it though she saw Cedar hit her head with her hand. “Ugh, I almost forgot,” she muttered to the group before pulling out a piece of paper. ‘Here Raven, I passed the headmaster and he asked me to give this to you, don’t worry he only had to reschedule two subjects!’ she finished passing the note over. Raven sent a grateful smile to her friend thank goodness for Cedar on the top of the paper a note was written with a schedule underneath. It read:

Dear Ms. Queen; first of all, I’d like to apologize for not being aware of this sooner, in the short time we’ve been given I was able to find some students to help you translate in each class. However, just in case most classes have an extra student who understands sign language. Below is your schedule, I hope you enjoy your time here at Ever After High.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Grimm

Breakfast: 6:30-8:30

Block one: Geografairy with Professor Jack B. Nimble (assisted by Cerise Hood) 8:45-9:30

Block two: Beast Training and Care with Professor Poppa Bear (assisted by Dexter Charming) 9:35-10:20

Block three: General Villainy with Professor Badwolf (assisted by Ramona Badwolf) 10:25-11:10

Block four: Math with Dr. King Charming (assisted by Ashlynn Ella) 11:15-12:00

Lunch: 12:00-12:45

Block five: History with Professor Rumpilstilskin (assisted by Madelyn Hatter) 1:00-1:45

Block six: Spellcasting and Potions with Professor Baba Yaga (assisted by Cedar Wood) 1:50-2:35

Block seven: Grimmnastics with Coach Gingerbreadman (assisted by Darling Charming) 2:40-3:25

Block eight: Art with Professor Card (assisted by Meshell Mermaid) 3:30-4:15

Dinner may be had at any time after this, as can counselling with Baba Yaga or Mother Goose. Lights out is at 10:30

Raven smiled at the schedule she only didn’t know two of the names on here. She was nervous to start her time at EAH but as long as she had good grades and a clear head she was sure she would do fine.

Notes:

I am really sorry this took so long, I kept forgetting about it because of school and COVID. btw if anyone knows how to make a master post and pin it could you please let me know? I would like to be able to do that. I also just got an AO3 account so I might post on there.

Taglist For The Silent Queen:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @justafanwarrior @bee-a-garbage-shipper @spicybelladonna @starrry-nites @tired-butterfly @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @themagicmistic @a-star-with-a-human-name @futursworld @pepelachanel @me-with-a-z-and-double-the-e @wolf-for-life

@iz-bell-saiah @thebookwormfairy @fantasiame

[alex-ruins-everything]

Turning Pages - Chapter 1

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read whole thing on ao3 here

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He was happy working at the bookshop that he simply loved, all until the brash and loud brother of one of his coworker's boyfriend's entered the picture. Then he found his quite perfect life interrupted by something he had never experienced before - fun. Remus Kingsley was getting him to branch out, and not looking too bad while doing it. 

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He had good grades, a solid sleep schedule, an average amount of social interaction, and a job that he adored. He worked at a bookshop, the same bookshop he had spent most of his childhood in since most preteens were not fans of their intellectually superior peers. Though at the bookshop he could put all of that aside and immerse himself in knowledge - and on the rare occasion, some fantasy. In all fairness it didn’t take long for the bookshop owner, Mr. Sanders, to start recognizing the young boy that was always sitting in the armchairs by the windows. It didn’t take much more time after that for him to start to take Logan under his wing, showing him how the bookshop runs and on Logan’s 16th birthday, offering him a job that was happily accepted. Logan had always been an enthusiastic learner and that directly translated into his work. When Mr. Sanders’ attention got pulled away from the shop, Logan happily picked up the slack.

He was not a fan of summer break, finding the halt in his education to be cumbersome, but he did enjoy having more time to spend at the shop. It was 7am sharp when he unlocked the door, the familiar bell tingling to indicate entry as he flipped on the light switches, immediately soaking in the smell of the books with a smile to himself. Now to begin on the opening checklist he knew so well. Step one, lock the door to avoid any early customers. Check. Step two, count the money and open the register up. Check. Step three, check displays and ensure that bookmarks are orderly and the magazines are sitting neat. Check. Step four, go through aisles and ensure that books are neatly lined up and in alphabetical order. This step takes a while so it is vital to keep an eye on the time so that at precisely 8am the door can be unlocked again. Logan does his job thoroughly until he checks this one off as well, standing behind the register to organize the pens and highlighters, ensuring there is receipt tape in the printer. At 7:58 he pulls his apron on over his head, unlocking the door with a soft click of the lock, straightening a display of books as he passed by.

It was not unusual for Logan’s coworker to be late to his morning shift. Patton Hart seemed to always arrive at 8am dull rather than sharp, but he always made up for it in some way so it was quite hard to get mad at him. Today, for example, he skipped in at nearly 8:15, but he was holding two cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

“Sorry I’m late!” Patton apologized, reading the side of one of the cups before handing it to Logan. “Remy was extra chatty at the coffee shop today...but here you go! Large black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

Logan thanked the other, taking the coffee and sipping at it. He had already had a cup before leaving home but it wouldn’t hurt to have another. He had already eaten breakfast so he tucked the muffin under the counter for later. Patton went into a small room behind the counter to set his belongings down and clock in, returning in his apron and a smile.

“I need to know what book you plan on reading for the kids on Saturday so a display can be set up,” Logan stated, looking over the short list of events the shop had planned. Patton hosted book readings for young children every once in a while and it was always a hit, bringing in lots of revenue for the shop. Another reason he could get away with being late.

“Oh! I was thinking If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,” he replied. “We just got a shipment in of those, right? I thought it might work out nicely especially since I did the Pigeon books last time.”

“Excellent,” Logan nodded, approving the idea by penciling it onto the schedule next to the time slot for Patton’s Reading Circle.

It wasn’t a very busy day, but it went by seemingly quickly with lots to do. Logan sat in the office for a good two hours, filling out orders for the shipment they would receive on Wednesday, making sure to get any special requests customers had ordered. When that was done he went about reorganizing the science section, making room for a new book that would be gracing the shelves and placing a space-holder in the meantime. Patton had been fluffing up the pillows on the cushiony chairs set around the store and dusting off shelves and cleaning the windows down. When a customer came in one of them would help them find what they wanted then ring them up, that bell by the door always chiming to alert them. The peaceful and known routine was part of what made Logan happy. Around noon he excused himself to the back to eat the muffin Patton had brought this morning, letting the other know that his break was scheduled in about an hour when their third coworker arrived.

When it came to Virgil Storm it was always a toss up. He was either early or late, never on time. Today however he chose to be early, walking in fifteen minutes before one, nodding a hello to both Logan and Patton as he headed to the back, sipping on an iced coffee with a tired expression. He came back out with his apron on, the cord of his headphones hanging out of his pocket a little bit as he started his usual rounds around the store. Aside from Logan, Virgil was definitely the most detail oriented.

Logan excused Patton for his break, perching on a stool behind the register and pulling out a large binder to work on some scheduling for the next few weeks. Always better to get things done in advance, of course. The bell rang and Logan looked up to greet the customer but saw it was just Roman, Virgil’s boyfriend.

“Hello, Roman,” he nodded, getting a greeting back before Roman was off to find Virgil.

Logan had never seen Roman actually read a book, but he did buy them every so often, mostly ones about theater or anything that had a dragon on the cover. He was just charming enough to have won over Mr. Sanders on the few times they had crossed paths in the shop, but really he only served as a distraction. Today wasn’t busy so Logan let him stay for a little while before leaving his post at the register to check on how he was interfering with Virgil today.

“Roman, if you shadow Virgil any longer I’m going to hand you an apron and consider it your training,” he warned lightly.

“Okay, okay,” Roman started. “He’s just showing me some new fantasy stuff, I promise I’ll be a paying customer this time.”

Logan decided to believe him, returning to his post at the register and continuing to pencil names onto a schedule, trying to work around the names to fit something that was fair for everyone. Then of course he would send it to Mr. Sanders for approval before posting it on the bulletin board in the room behind the counter. The bell rang again and Logan looked up to greet a customer or say hello to Patton who surely was due back from his break soon but was instead met with the most interesting person he had ever laid eyes on.

This man was all broad shoulders and wild hair, a streak of white gracing the front of his curls and a mustache that was twirled at the ends in ways Logan thought only the men in Victorian romance novels sported. He was somewhat dressed for the warm weather outside in a mossy green tank top that hung obscenely off his body, showing off an octopus tattoo on his left shoulder with the tentacles creeping down his upper arm, and black jeans that were more rips than pants. His eyes scanned around the bookshop, landing on Logan for a second too long to be played of as a passing glance.

“Roman! If you don’t quit making out with Virgil against a bookshelf I’m gonna leave your ass here,” the man said just a little too loudly for proper bookshop etiquette.

“Hey, shuddup,” Roman said, emerging from the shelves with a book in his hand. “Remus, I thought you were shopping down the street.”

“I was, then I got bored. Hey, this place is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been in here,” the man - Remus - said, picking up one of the display books and flipping it open, only to put it back down in a way that wasn’t remotely how he had found it. “C’mon, I wanna swing by the park and chase the geese before we head home. Hurry up.”

Logan found that he had been watching the interaction, his scheduling forgotten as Roman came and set his selection on the counter, Remus following behind him and messing up the neat displays of knick-knacks on the counter.

“Told you I’d buy a book,” Roman said with a grin. “Oh, this is my brother by the way. Sorry he’s loud.”

Remus flicked Roman on the back of the head. “Am not. This place is just super quiet,” his eyes trailed over Logan in a way that was enough to make him feel like he was being dissected. “Nice to meet you, Specs.”

“And you as well,” Logan said, ringing up Roman’s book and sliding it into a paper bag, cuing him up to pay. Though with how brash this man was he wasn’t sure if that was an entirely true statement. “Roman, you’re good to go. Have a nice day.”

Logan watched the two brother’s leave, sighing lightly as he closed the scheduling binder and sticking it back under the counter. Patton came back with a happy wave and a box of donuts that he set in the back for them all to pick at when they wished. He let Patton watch the register, moving to clean up the damage that Remus had left behind to his strictly ordered displays. Well, hopefully that wouldn’t be a continuous issue. Remus seemed like he read books even less than Roman, though Logan couldn’t deny there was something illogically intriguing about how unrestrained Remus had been.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Iwaizumi in Bad Day Surprises

OMG LOVE. THIS IS SO BIG-BRAIN, I LOVE THIS. I hope you enjoy this @scrappydaisies​ 😘 

Word count: ~1.7k

BOKUTO 

⭐ It was one of those days where everything that could go wrong, went wrong

⭐ You woke up late, missing breakfast as you ran to work, awkwardly putting on your jacket as you sprinted

⭐ When you got to work, you hadn’t printed your proposal and notes, so you ran late for the meeting because of it

⭐ To top it off, you forgot you had a meeting with your supervisor to discuss a potential raise

⭐ (Yikes)

⭐ Of course, you not only forgot your lunch, you’d forgotten your wallet so you couldn’t even buy food!

⭐ Just a whole-ass series of unfortunate events 😔

⭐ Normally, you’d go bother Akaashi - one of your coworkers’ & the reason you had met Bokuto - but he was out with the flu so you didn’t want to bother him

⭐ You also would have texted Bokuto an SOS, BUT of course, he was out traveling for a match so there was no help there

⭐ So, you found yourself fuming at your desk, asking yourself and all possible deities out there on why you had such bad karma, angrily vent-texting Bokuto

⭐ Though he was preoccupied and not reading/responding to your texts, you felt a bit better getting it out of your system

⭐ One of your other coworkers noticed the predicament that you were in, and ended up buying you food

⭐ As you made your way home, you pull out your phone again to see that Bokuto had left you on read 

⭐ Well okay then

⭐ It’s not like that hurt or anything

⭐ (it 100% did but what else could go wrong, y’know?)

⭐ Bokuto wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days because work

⭐ But that didn’t stop you from opening the door and calling “I’m home!” to an empty house

⭐ Leading to you laughing at yourself...which eventually became hysterical...and soon enough, you were standing in the hallway sobbing

⭐ “Babe?”

⭐ Your brain short-circuits

⭐ “K-kou?!” you sniff

⭐ You were a complete wreck by now. Like, your entire face was hot, the tears would not stop, you were snotty as heck

⭐ Your boyfriend appears in the doorway, his eyes wide at your face before he rushes at you

⭐ “What’s wrong pretty one?” he asks, “is it because of your day?”

⭐ (ngl imagining Bokuto calling you ‘pretty one’ made my heart skip a beat)

⭐ “Kou!” you sob, burying your face into his chest. “Today was honestly the worst day of my life”

⭐ He just rubs your back soothingly, murmuring soft declarations of love and comfort

⭐ You pull back, wiping your nose on your sleeve 

⭐ “Wait, what are you doing here?”

⭐ “Oh right! C’mere”

⭐ Bokuto takes your hand gently, leading you towards the living room

⭐ He had taken the time to construct a massive blanket fort there, golden fairy lights everywhere. The TV was already on with your favorite movie queued, and bags of your favorite takeout were there

⭐ Bokuto scratched at the back of his neck. “I knew you were having a really rough day, and I got back early so I figured you’d like this surprise”

⭐ Of course, you start crying again and Bokuto’s freaking out like OML WHAT DO I EVEN DO

⭐ He thought he broke you, the poor bby

⭐ You’re just shaking your head, crying and you’re just like “I just love you so much, why the heck are you so thoughtful”

⭐ He panics and is like, “why don’t we get you outta this and we can start watching some movies, yeah?’

⭐ And you’re like nodding (you’re still crying lmao) as you drag your feet to the bathroom to freshen up, change, and rejoin your mans in the living room

⭐ “You’re literally the best, you know that?” you sniffle as you re-enter

⭐ Bokuto flashes you a grin, opening his arms as he waits for you to crawl into them

⭐ “I’m so lucky to have you” you mutter, burying your face once more

⭐ “Oh baby, I think I’m lucky to have you” he says as he chuckles, rubbing your back and peppering kisses onto your face

⭐ But in general, Bokuto will randomly surprise you with food, snacks, spontaneous things whenever you’re having a bad day because spontaneity is fun as heck! 

TSUKISHIMA

⭐ You and Tsukki met when you guys were in the same class

⭐ Your teacher had separated him from Yams because they kept talking (SMACK)

⭐ Little did he know that by moving Tsukishima to sit behind you, you’d end up dating!

⭐ It started when you were jamming out to music and straight vibing

⭐ He was kinda intrigued, the boy thought you were cute but he didn’t want to vocalise it because he’s such a kuudere istg

⭐ It was Yams who started talking to you, which encouraged Tsukki to do so as well!

⭐ SUCCESS

⭐ Anyways, y’all start dating and all that jazz

⭐ One day, you come into school lookin like a wreck. A complete mess

⭐ You had pulled an all-nighter in order to finish a paper you were really struggling with

⭐ Like, you had been working on it all. week. and you STILL needed that extra 8 hours to work on it

⭐ And as you were leaving the house this morning, your parents were yelling at you for grades or something, so in general you were in a bad mood

⭐ To top it all off, your headphones had decided to die while you were walking to class, so you didn’t even have the comfort of music to help you

⭐ You were ranting the entirety of lunch, with Yams interjecting with some words of comfort as Tsukishima just silently listened and provided you soft touches to let you know that he was there

⭐ He really wasn’t the type to talk much, especially in public. BUT he was definitely very expressive behind closed doors

⭐ So, once school ends, you head home and just collapse onto your bed - dead to the world

⭐ You woke up because your phone started ringing

⭐ In your haste to fall asleep, it somehow ended up stuck to your face LOL

⭐ You pick it up, groggy as heck

⭐ “Hullo?”

⭐ “Can you open the door?”

⭐ “Kei?!” 

⭐ You stand up suddenly, falling onto the floor as the sudden blood-rush made you lighte-headed

⭐ “Did you just fall?” he asked, snickering slightly

⭐ “Shut up” you scowl as you slowly get your bearings and make your way to the door, hanging up in the process

⭐ “What are you doing here?” you ask, rubbing your eye with your knuckles as you stare up at your boyfriend

⭐ “Am I not allowed to visit you?” he quipped back, a pink flush on his cheeks. “I have something for you”

⭐ You step back, letting him into the house. “You didn’t have to, I’m sure you’re tired after practice”

⭐ “Shut up, I wanted to”

⭐ You guys make your way to your room

⭐ Tsukishima sits at your desk, unzipping his volleyball bag and pulling out a box. “Here.” he says, passing it to you

⭐ Your eyes widen. “Kei! You really didn’t have to”

⭐ He had gotten you some fancy, noise-cancelling headphones 

⭐ (Personally, they’d be AirPods but y’know, it’s whatever y’all prefer!)

⭐ “I know you were having a rough day, and music always makes it better for you so just take it,” he scowled, hiding the red roses on his cheeks

⭐ You grin, putting it down gently before you throw yourself onto him. “Thank you, thank you so much”

⭐ “You’re welcome.” He coughs awkwardly

⭐ Pulling back, you eye his face as he fiddles with his hands.

⭐ “Do you...maybe wanna cuddle or something?” you smirk

⭐ “Shut up..maybe”

⭐ “C’mon then”

⭐ Anyways, if it wasn’t obvious, Tsukki is the type that will hold you and listen to you rant 

IWAIZUMI

⭐ Ugh, college-life woes

⭐ You and Iwa lived together in an apartment. Y’all have been dating for a cool min now

⭐ But the problem of adult life!!

⭐ Y’all just don’t have time for one another

⭐ Or, not as much as you’d like

⭐ Iwa’s busy with his classes and internship

⭐ (Not to mention working out because c’mon this man never stops the grind)

⭐ Like this man is working HARD for his future!!!

⭐ You’re busy finishing up your own final projects and working too

⭐ Y’all basically only see each other for a few minutes every night when you’re laying in bed, updating each other about your day’s before you KO

⭐ SO, when you come home after a really stressful week of late-nights, little sleep, one-meal a day type of situation, you were pleasantly surprised to find your boo at home

⭐ Not to mention, there were candles out, a bottle of wine on the table, and plates of your favorite meal

⭐ HOME-COOKED BECAUSE THIS MAN IS THE PERFECT PACKAGE OK

⭐ “What is this?”

⭐ He looks up, grinning. “Well, I know that someone hasn’t been able to take care of themselves this week, so I decided to take the night off and spend time with them”

⭐ Iwaizumi comes around you, guiding you to the table by the small of your back

⭐ Pulling out the chair, letting you sit before he pushes it in

⭐ “You’re spoiling me Haji” you muse as he pours you a glass of wine

⭐ “Well if you won’t do it, then I will” he shrugs. “Cheers baby” he lifts his own glass, waiting for you to tap yours against his

⭐ If you thought that was the surprise, YOU WERE MISTAKEN

⭐ BECAUSE THERE WAS MOREEE

⭐ He decided to go ALL-OUT with the romance

⭐ After you guys finish dinner, he leads you up to the bathroom where there were unlit candles, and a BATH BOMB

⭐ TBH, I’m imagining LUSH’s Sex Bomb bath-bomb, but it’s whatever you prefer!

⭐ Just know that he added extra petals into the bath just for you

⭐ (you always complain that there weren’t enough lmao)

⭐ He draws the bath and lights the candles as you strip and get ready to shower

⭐ This man is out here washing your hair, soaping you up

⭐ All that wholesome goodness 💘

⭐ He even carries you into the bath!!

⭐ After you’re situated, he brings you the wine glasses and a tablet so y’all can watch a movie or catch up to whatever anime y’all are watching together as he slips into the bath behind you

⭐ All in all, he goes ALL OUT when it comes to spoiling you (he’s a romantic at heart) and honestly, you just need to cuff this man A.S.A.P. 

general taglist: @scrappydaisies​ @newfriendjen​  @kyomihann

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of my general taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

[arjsstuff]

Memories with Pkyek

My introduction to Pyaar Ki Ye Ek Kahani or PKYEK as we all called it started with the amazing introduction promos I watched several times on star one. I remember watching one of the trailers of PKYEK on star one when I was in 5th grade which is almost 11 years back. I was casually switching channels and I saw this ad, mysterious, the tone of the ad was pretty dark, a curly haired girl and a blue eyed guy and he saves her from getting hit by a car. It was strangely so beautiful and the words “math aao mere kareeb, aag hu main jal jaogi” was clearly stuck in my head and this was a promo a week before the serial released.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM1Cq62uJcY

I think the serial was scheduled to air from 18th October 2010 which was 2 days before my birthday and although I decided I have to watch this I could not watch it for some reason and I forgot about this serial. One day in class my bench mate and then close friend started talking to me about this serial and I immediately told her how much I loved the promo and she asked me to watch the episodes at 8:30 and if I missed it she also told me the re-broadcast timings which was sometime in the evening. I was like yeah sure since she strongly recommended it to me I would definitely watch it. So I was almost 7-8 episodes late and the first episode I watched was Abhay-Piya's first dance and the first scene I watched was Haseena telling Abhay to control himself on their party night near a small bridge kind of place and then the dance followed. 

OMG I must tell how it was one of the best dances I had ever seen on TV serial, it was so magical, especially the way they both were so lost in each other’s eyes and he ensured her torn dress wasn’t visible to anyone and also they danced on to kuch khaas hai song which was such a great song and it ended with the signature Mahiyaa tune. It instantly got me hooked to and I watched it religiously every day. My mom did not want me to watch teen romance Hindi TV serial so I literally had to change channels to Hungama every time she came to the hall XD. Since PKYEK was such a phenomena at school I made so many friends and the best part about pkyek is wherever I went after school for example junior college, Uni, my cousins friends etc all became my friends because of how we all watched pkyek LOL. 

Anyway so I got my really studious friend Z into watching it and she was this person who never watched TV but once she say Abhay she was hopelessly in love with that guy. I cringe when I think we all went through this in 5th grade, I mean how were we all swooning over him like proper teenagers. Anyway one day she went to the library and found his picture on some magazine and she told me and I literally ran to the library to get a hold of it but there were so many people already holding it and finally I got a glimpse of Abhay Raichand’s photo and a short interview by Vivian D'sena. I think she started getting so addicted to pkyek that her mom did not like it and she sometimes called me n my landline to talk about it lol. One day there was this class in school where we weren’t supposed to talk so her and I wrote whatever we had to talk on my notebook along with my friend D and the full chat was about Z, D and me swooning over Abhay, while letting A have Abhay and us mostly us teasing her with him. The chats were extremely funny so I tore them from my book and gave it to my senior in my school bus to read it, and when her stop came, before she got down she handed over the papers to me. I think my bad luck was super great that day and my bus teacher, who was this very this strict language teacher who 7-8th grade students caught her passing the papers onto me and asked me to hand it over to her. I immediately put them into my bag and tried tearing them into pieces while she kept screaming to hand it over to her. In the end I had to hand over one part of the chat which was quite dangerous considering we were only 5th graders going crazy about an actor and talking like late teens but I managed to save the dangerous part in my bag. This ***** ma’am read it and literally told me that she would hand it over to my school’s head teacher and she did that the very next day. Why can’t teachers get a life? 

Anyway the next day I came to class and told everyone about this and my extra sweet friends told me not to worry about it. In between an afternoon class, the peon came and called Z first, we thought maybe she got called for some extra circular activity, but when the peon came again and called me I knew I was dead. I went into the head teacher's room and she had almost got screwed and I was next in line and I somehow told even D was a part of this convo and even she got called. The other girls in my class were actually worried cuz they knew what was happening. And later head teacher screwed all of us and I guess Z cried on her way to class and then the head teacher let me and D go to class but we were so shameless, after getting a earful we could not stop laughing and literally lmaoed in the corridor before entering the class. This whole thing kind of strained my friendship with Z, and we weren’t the best of friends anymore but D and I still stuck close.

My school had this weird system where there was a girls and boys corridor and the girl’s corridor was pretty cool since it was on the left side and was closer to the trees while the right corridor used by guys was where the teachers entered the class from. So in these corridors we always role played and for some reason I was always Abhay even though I wanted to be Piya (I’m guessing it was because Of my short hair and being an serious faced person generally) and a lot of my friends were Piya and this friend of mine who was crazy about guys was called tracker and my friend D was Misha and we used to randomly dance to songs and recall the dialogues from the previous episodes, do the remoe juliet skit from pkyek and all sorts of things.

The background music on Pkyek is seriously so legendary and is among one of my favourite bgm tracks for a hindi serial. I would personally rate it number one and it had been my ringtone for 3 years. I tried looking for the Mahiyaa singer and the official song but I could not find it anywhere and mostly found only the recorded copies played in the serial. In my school bus I had seniors who I was very very close to because of pkyek and we always sung the background music, it’s so funny how we knew all the background music from pkyek by heart and remembered it perfectly and were in sync. I started singing this usually in my class as well and my friends hummed along.

Times of India and this other newspaper which I can’t recall had this section where TV channel broadcast programs were listed every day and this tiny picture from random TV shows was displayed on top of it. Whenever there was a pkyek picture all our friends used to literally fight over a picture that was probably 1*1 cms, very very tiny and even the quality wasn’t great but if you opened my pencil pouch on any random day you would find at least 10-15 of them LOL (I’ve lost all of them now).

found this from https://thereandtheir.wordpress.com/tag/indian-tv-serial/ the tv listing was similar but it was a bit different

I already mentioned how strict my mom was back then so I had to watch the re broadcast since I couldn’t watch the episodes fully at 8:30 PM. I had to wake up around midnight or early morning to watch it. I remember my parent’s thinking I sleep walked because my parents found me in hall instead of my room on odd mornings. It was quite the life with the box TV since I had to sit so close to it and the volume had to be on 1 or 2 since I could not wakeup people at home while watching it. One of the benefits of waking up early to watch this was also that I could see the newest promos on TV and I was always the first one in class to tell what the new promos were about. I remember telling my friends some of the coolest Pkyek promos like the vampire reveal one which in my opinion is still the best promo for a Hindi TV serial (I think Parvati introduction promo for Mahadev on Lifeok is a close second) and the promo where Abhay bites her and many more. I remember revealing this to my friends and my friends rushing home and switching on star one and waiting for the promos to appear and calling me to tell how amazing those promo were.

I remember how this one time I went to my senior A's house and we created fake Ouija board to call spirits. So we called her dead grandmother's spirit and she asked if the creepy guy in her class who was obsessed with her would stop annoying her and I immediately remembered the pkyek scene where Panchi asks maithli on the Ouija board if Danish would ever get punished. I don't know who's idea it was to play with it but it certainly had to do something with pkyek.

Those were really the fun times of my life. Pkyek is and will always be the most memorable serial for me. It’s not like we can expect great cg and VFX for a vampire serial and it in no way could be another vampire dairy or twilight (not to forget EK produced it) but the story and the writing was really amazing. I was a huge sucker for Abhay-Piyas chemistry and the supporting cast were literally the best!

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

25 more things I learned during a global pandemic from your Local Teenage Train wreck :) (Pt. 2)

1. Gaining weight is okay. Losing weight is okay. Bodies fluctuate and are inconsistent. Just make sure that you’re trying your best to be healthy, whatever that means for you. 

2. School is hard, especially during a global. freaking. pandemic. Don’t beat yourself up if it’s harder to get up in the morning or your grades aren’t as high as they usually are. It’s hard right now. 

3. You’re mental health comes above all. School, responsibilities, and personal projects are not worth your time if it’s affecting your mental health. If your gut is telling you to take a break, take a break!

4. If you feel lonely, get a plant to keep in your room. Do some research as to that plants do best with the type of lighting in your room, and figure out some basic care instructions. Have someone to take care of besides yourself. Name your plants, and take care of them. 

5. Even if you’re not good at writing, I suggest you keep a journal during this time. It kept me sane over the summer, and even though I eventually stopped because of limited time with school starting back up, it helped to keep me sane in the worst of the pandemic. 

6. If you’re spiritual (or even if you’re not) learn how to do shadow work. This isn’t anything that has to be spiritual or done in just one religion. It’s basically giving yourself a chance and a space to be open and honest with yourself and to learn what you might need to work on through writing. If you google it, you can find a more in depth explanation, and prompts to start doing it. You basically give yourself a prompt. They can be questions like “What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone else or yourself?” or they can be a little less heavy like “What are five non physical things that you genuinely like about yourself?”. This can be pretty heavy, and can dig up some unwanted emotions, but that’s the whole point; to deal with the emotions you may have been repressing and letting fester inside of you. 

7. On days when you’re not feeling well mentally, take a break. It’s okay to drop everything and get an extra hour of sleep, read, or do something else to make yourself feel better.

8. After hard days, I know the last thing you want to do is get up and continue on, but here are some ways to do it:

- lay out an outfit that’s put together, but not as over the top. No sweat pants or crappy clothes, but it doesn’t have to be your usual put together outfits with a full face of makeup. A nice crewneck and a nice pair of black athletic leggings can go a long way. 

-wear your comfort jewelry. I wear my beaded necklace that I bought for myself,  the silver ring my grandma gave me and the gold cross ring that my mom gave to me when I got confirmed. 

-eat breakfast. A handful of cereal will do. Anything. But eat something. I like to make oatmeal. It sounds boring but if you make it right, it tastes just perfect for mornings when you don’t feel hungry but know inside that you are. Recipe is next on the list :)

-go to school. I know you want to lay in bed. I know the last place you want to be is a crowded building full of pubescent teens that aren’t nice, but go. Go to learn. Go to absorb knowledge like a sponge, and don’t worry if you fail and lose some of the water, because you can always soak it up later. 

-if you have practice, rehearsal, a game, whatever, be gentle on yourself. Today might not be your best day physically, because the brain controls everything. Forgive yourself if you can’t land that double pirouette, get to the high note, or make that assist. You’re abilities are stagnant, and they’re going to change depending on how you feel

-When you get home, turn off your phone. Friends, social media, etc. can wait. Set a timer for one hour. Do work for just that hour. When the timer rings, finish what you were doing and then stop. Now have a 20 minute break and do something that’s not screen related. Read a book, draw something; heck, stare at the wall for 20 minutes and space out. When the timer rings, do another hour and repeat the same process until it’s all done. 

-have a playlist you listen to to heal you. Sad boi hours are ok, just make sure to have a playlist of songs that get you moving again. 

-Sleep. Even if that means putting off work for tomorrow. It’s ok. You really need it. 

9. Oatmeal seems gross until you know how to prepare it. When you do, it’s revolutionary. It’s a high volume, low calorie food, so you’ll stay full for a while without overeating, all while consuming less calories than you would with a traditional breakfast cereal. 

The right way to make it: 

-measure out half a cup of old fashioned oats. Not steel cut. Those aren’t as good. 

-MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add half a cup of water and half a cup of milk of your choice. I personally like almond milk because it’s kind of sweet already even when it’s unsweetened. 

-SECOND MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add a pinch of salt, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and allspice, and a teaspoon or two of maple syrup. This is what makes it taste palatable. It’s less sugar than store-bought, and tastes amazing. 

-Microwave that shit for one minute and stir. It should look kind of lumpy, but not a ton. Then, put another minute on. Stir at every half increment. (After 30 seconds, every 15 seconds, and then every 7) This is so it doesn’t boil over. Then, take it out, stir it one last time, and let it sit for a second. 

-Wash up some berries to put in it. I love blueberries and or blackberries. 

perfect oatmeal every. single. time. Feel free to add more toppings like nuts or if you wanna treat yourself chocolate or substitute the spices, but this is honestly one of my favorite breakfasts that keeps me full throughout the day. 

10. Learn a new language. Yes, Duolingo is annoying, but do it. Find one that you’ll like to learn and that’s easy for you. Try them on like old clothes and find one that fits just right. For me, it’s French. Expose yourself to that language. Listen to music, read books (or try to) and watch movies with subtitles. Soon enough, you’ll be eager to learn more. 

11. Learn how to use notion.com. It’s super amazing. You can literally keep track of your entire life there. It’s pretty fun to use as well. I made schedules for each day after school, a reading log, a want to read list, a personal habit tracker, etc, and they’re all extremely helpful. 

12. Make a list of things you weren’t allowed to do as a kid and do one every day. Heal your inner child by finally itching the spot that may not have been scratched for years. 

13. Learn how to make origami stars. They’re really easy, and I can’t recommend Maqaroon’s (Joanna’s) video on how to make them enough. Once you’ve got it down, get yourself a nice big jar and write down things you’re grateful for on the slips of paper you’re going to fold. Fill up your gratitude jar and make a wish once it’s full. It will come true. 

14. Have 30 minutes a day to put your phone down and read. Yes. You will have to sacrifice something to do this, but it’s so important and good for not only information retention and learning, but for mental health as well. Even if you have to get up half an hour earlier to do it, it’s worth it. 

15. It’s okay to be alone, but learn to recognize the difference between alone and lonely. If you’re lonely, here are some things to do:

-write a letter to a friend. It’s something nice you can do for yourself and others, and it’s not feeding into the toxic instant reply culture that we live in

-read a book or watch a show that gets you to connect with the characters, even if that means (I've said it before and I’ll say it again) rereading a favorite ya series or binging atla for the fiftieth time. It’s good for the soul.

-take a walk and smile at the people you see coming past. Again, it’s good for the soul. 

-go to the coffee shop and ask the barista to make you a drink that tastes like “_____” (insert whatever you want there. It could be a color, song, feeling, etc.) It’s weird and uncomfortable, but it gives you a conversation starter and 9.9 times out of 10 a really good drink. (Also helpful for when you think the barrista’s cute)

-Reading in general. It opens up so many new worlds with the turn of a page. 

16. Monitor your food intake. No, don’t restrict your food intake, monitor it. This means first seeing exactly what your putting in your body and altering it to gradually improve to a clean diet. Humans weren’t built to process all the preservatives, additives and sugars found in most processed food (cereals, chips, anything in a foil bag that’s either really sweet or really salty) and it’s important to cut down and if possible eliminate as much as you can of it out of your diet. Food is fuel, and you truly are what you eat. You’ll notice that by increasing your vegetable intake, reducing white processed sugars and carbs*, and cutting out sodas/extra sugars, that you’ll feel better. This isn’t a weight loss thing, but you may start to trim down a little bit once you go more intense with it. You don’t have to eliminate anything fully, and please enjoy your favorite “bad” foods! Everything in moderation is perfect! Just make sure that you’re getting the good stuff in there too! *Side note, do NOT cut out carbs! See my post on how I’m losing weight to get more into depth on this. 

17. Buy fresh flowers for yourself. Who says that you have to wait for someone else? That’s completely false, and you should totally treat yourself to a nice bouquet on occasion, especially in the dead of winter. 

18. The whole idea of self love is flawed. Loving yourself has nothing to do with the way you look. Loving yourself comes with genuinely loving your life. If you don't love the way you’re living, change it. Make and set goals. Fail at achieving those goals. Get back up and try again until you finally get it, but make sure that whatever you’re doing, you’re doing to love the life you live. Life doesn’t live you. You live life.

19. Have candles and incense. (Or a diffuser if you’re not allowed to burn stuff) Making your environment smell good makes a huge difference

20. Once you turn 18, get a tattoo. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Pick something small and get it behind your ear, on your ankle, wrist, fingers, whatever. You’ll love having the memory when your old. 

21. Realize your worth. We often put ourselves down because we think that valuing ourselves is equivalent to selfishness. It’s not. At all. You are just as important as everyone else. Your voice matters too. 

22. Go to art museums

23. Go to free concerts in the park

24. Expose yourself to new art, ideas, and literature

25. Life is gonna suck sometimes. It’s just how it is. That doesn’t mean a bad day’s gonna last forever. As cheesy as it is, keep your head up :)

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

It’s Too Much

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You are a college student trying to get into nursing school. Being accepted into NYU’s program you just have to make the grade in one more class to start in the fall. This semester has been difficult and only gotten worse since this COVID-19 required your college to close. Living on campus and your family living in Colorado, makes moving back home extremely difficult. Besides you don’t want to leave. That is when your sweet boyfriend offered for you to stay at his apartment.

Oneshot

A/N: It may be a little long, but the ending is freaking adorable

10:15 pm

             Putting away the last bit of your clothes in Steve’s closet, you sigh in relief. Today has been so long starting with waking up early to move all your stuff out of your dorm. Your college has moved all classes online with the COVID-19 outbreak. Since there is virtually no reason to be at school, you decided to move out to get a reimbursement for the rest of the semester.

             Problem is, your school is in New York and your home is St. Louis, Missouri. There is no way for you to get everything in your car and drive half way through the country. Thankfully Steve, your boyfriend, has been gracious enough to share his apartment with you for the remainder of your semester.

             A warm-muscular arm wraps its way around your waist and pulls you toward an even more muscular body. Turning your body to face him, you burry your face in Steve’s chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steve places a soft kiss on the top of your head before leaning his against yours. Feeling the light brush of his breath against your hair lures your subconscious to the impending darkness of sleep.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Steve ask. A smile invades your features. You love how attentive he can be.

“No,” you pout. “Going to bed means waking up, and waking up means studying.”

             Steve’s grip on your loosens, prompting you to look up at him. A twinkle of mischief resides in his beautiful blue eyes. A part of you wants him to tell you what he is thinking, though it may be more fun for him to show you.

“I have an idea then.” Steve smirks.

             His arms encircle your legs before you could ask him what he’s up to. Throwing you over his shoulder he walks you over to the bed, and flips your body onto the soft mattress. Laughter erupts from your chest. You find it so cute when he acts so dominant because he surprisingly loves being submissive a great deal of the time. Though seems like tonight he wants to take the reins, and you are more than happy to let his dominant side take over tonight.

***

Next Morning

Inulin can determine glomerular filtration rate in the renal system because it is only filtered, not reabsorbed or secreted…

Mean arterial pressure can be calculated by taking systole + 2 (diastole) / 3…

Trypsin, chymotrypsin, and elastin are endopeptidase enzyme…

             You woke up, your thoughts running a million miles an hour. Looking over at Steve’s alarm clock you see that it reads 5:45 am. Well, I usually wake up at 6, what is 15 minutes really?

             Carefully shimmying out of Steve’s arms, you grab a new pair of underwear, and a fresh pair of sweats and t-shirt from Steve’s side of the closet. Heading over to the bathroom down the hall you turn on the water, wait for it to heat up, and step inside.

             Lathering your head with citrus smelling shampoo, you make a mental note of all the things you need to do today. A sheet of anxiety wraps around your body like a tight uncomfortable blanket. Taking deep breaths you try to focus on the warm water. Imagining it melt away the anxiety from your body, you begin to feel better. Before you know it, the last bit of body soap has been washed away and it is time to get out and start your day.

             Quickly getting dressed in Steve’s soft and warm clothes you head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Popping a bagel into the toaster, you search for some fruit in the refrigerator. Finally coming upon some cut up fruit, you take the container out and pour some on your plate. About that time your bagel is ready to go and all you need is your coffee. Tasting the warm-stimulating hazelnut coffee against your throat, you take a deep breath and dive into your studies

6:15 am

             Opening your laptop, you guide your mouse to a folder holding the rest of your physiology lecture videos. Your professor had his lectures recorded a few years back and thankfully saved them. Without these, you have no idea how challenging the last half of this semester would be.

             Scrolling through the list, you land upon the next video lecture. Waiting for the video to load, you take a sip of our coffee and plug in your headphones. Steve is an early morning riser but is definitely taking the opportunity to sleep in given the new situation. The last thing you want is to wake him up with your school work. He deserves to sleep in every once in a while.

7: 25 am

             Writing down the last bit of notes from the lecture, you look up and see that your breakfast has barely been touched. The bagel has a single bite and only half of the fruit remains. The floors creek behind the bedroom door signaling that Steve has woken up.

             As if on cue the door opens revealing a half asleep posture. Hearing him yawn you look up and offer a morning smile. As he heads into the kitchen for his own cup of coffee, you refocus on rewriting notes from the recent lecture. You have this rhythm down after the first couple weeks of the semester. After class you would rewrite the notes, neatly into a notebook and study them the next day.

“Want some breakfast?” Steve asks.

“I made me some.” You tilt your head toward you cold bagel and coffee and get a disapproving look from your boyfriend.  

8:00 am

             Taking out your laptop again, you log into your school’s blackboard account. You watch as the computer loads your Nutrition book as a yawn of your own settles across your lips. This is your least favorite class of the semester. It has nothing to do with the content. There is just so much of it and your teacher’s lectures are not helpful whatsoever.

“How about a break?” Steve looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, his head against your shoulder. “You just had to wear my clothes, you’re killing me.”

“Not yet, it is only eight in the morning. And I have to keep you entertained somehow.” A pinching feeling hits you in the gut as you think about taking Steve’s advice. You had the same problem while living in the dorm. You never take breaks unless you can’t see straight or it is time for bed, whichever comes first. Of course there were plans you would make with Steve that would take place of a break.

9:30 am

             Finally finishing the chapter for Nutrition, you head back into the kitchen. You throw away the rest of your uneaten breakfast and grab another pot of coffee. Taking in the precious smell you can feel your stomach start to growl from missing the other half of breakfast. You decide there isn’t enough time to make anything, and figure the coffee will just be enough.

“Hon,” Steve’s cautious voice looms over you. You can tell he is trying to tread lightly. He means well, but neither of you have been in this situation where you are living together.

“(Y/N), maybe you should eat something else.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine, thank you though.” You place a reassuring kiss on Steve’s cheek and then head into the living room again.

          The pinching gut feeling returns as you think about Steve’s expression. Maybe I should take a break? You shake your head and conclude you will take one later.

10:05 am

             The simulation for your physiology lab has finally loaded. Your professor for lab has ten lab simulations due this week by Thursday. With all the packing, moving, and unpacking this weekend you haven’t had the chance to get ahead of this. By Wednesday you have to take an online prelab quiz and be prepared to take a post lab quiz at the end of class on Thursday. Since it is all online now you have to definitely zero out time to get it all done on your own.

             Steve comes in with a plate in hand. On it is a piece of toast with a Nutella spread and banana slices nicely resting on top. Involuntarily, your mouth begins to water at the sight of food. Some find it a weird combination but you think it is the best thing you’ve found to eat in a while.

“Here, I made you this.”

             He places the plate of your physiology lab notebook. A tiny bit of annoyance restless onto your surface but you push it away. You know that Steve just wants to make sure you’re eating enough. At the beginning of last semester Steve noticed how little you started to eat with your added stress. This semester isn’t much better, but this way he at least gets to keep a better eye on you. You’ve never had a problem with your appetite. There is just so much on your mind, and so much stress that you barely remember to eat. When you do, it doesn’t take long for your nerves to get the better of you and suppress the want to keep eating.

“Thank you.” You say, and you snake your arm around his neck and bring him in for a kiss.

12:10 pm

“Okay, lunch time!” You claim, excited for a break. “How does a pizza sound?”

             Steve is in the corner of the room working out with his weights. Taking a moment from his current set, Steve nods in agreement. You find a small but noticeable grin hiding against his lips. He is clearly happy to see that you have finally taken a break… well a break to make food.

             The only pizza you guys have is a veggie and chicken frozen pizza. Taking it out of the wrapping, you preheat the oven and wait for it to beep. This moment allows you to turn on the tv and find “Friends” on the screen, your favorite show of all time. Steve crawls up against you even with sweat dripping off onto you.

“Babe! You’re dripping all over the pizza!” You laugh.

“Extra flavor?” Steve’s eyes glimmer as he represses his own laughter.

             After lunch you get back on your computer to log onto your Old Testament/Hebrew Bible class. After the class you organize your notes, work on your paper for the class, and review your notes from both physiology lecture and lab. It isn’t until 6 o’clock that evening before you are done. A friend from a class called needing you to explain something from the lecture today which took a little while.

**

             This routine repeated over and over during this week. Steve recognizes that there was no way this is going to change unless he said something. Though the last thing he wants to do is upset you. He knows how stressed you are about getting into the nursing program. You have a spot actually. You just need to get a B in physiology to keep it, and the first exam did not go as planned.

But Steve does know this isn’t healthy. You are ranging between 7-9 hours of work, with only an hour break at lunch to cook and eat. He would love to offer to cook for you, but he is scared that you’ll take that extra time to keep studying.

“Baby doll?” Steve peers around the corner leading into the living room. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, one second. I just need to finish writing this thought.” You say as you scribble a few more notes in your notebook.

             Steve comes over and sits on the coffee table in front of you. He helps you move your school stuff away. You knit your eyebrows together in confusion. Normally you aren’t done for the day, it is only 4:30 pm.

             Steve’s knees lightly press against yours and he takes your hands in his. Rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs you allow the soothing touch to calm your nerves. Steve leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead that you graciously accept.

“What’s up? You’re scaring me.” You say. A sinking feeling rests in your stomach that are sending your nerves in to a frenzy.

“I love you (Y/N). I love having you hear, but…” you can feel your heart drop. “I am worried about you. All you do is study. I’m sure this is what you’ve been doing this last year but I didn’t realize how much you do until now. You’re too tired to want to work out like you normally do, or able to stay awake while we are watching a movie. On top of that, you barely eat. It’s not healthy.”

“I know, you’re right.” A tear falls down your face. “Living in the dorm I never felt like I could get away from school. I felt like I had to constantly study. When I stayed the night here it would help me separate it easier. Though since I can’t leave, and some of my professors have added extra assignments I’m feeling it becoming a bigger problem than before.”

“Well, then.” Steve’s soft lips graze across yours, taking your breath away. “Let me help with that.”

             Pulling you on his lap, Steve’s fingers tangle in your hair. Steve presses his forehead against yours and both sets of eyes close. Stroking his hands through your hair, you focus on Steve’s breathing. You can’t believe you are lucky enough to find a man that actually cares about your well-being. He is right and you know it. From now on you’re going to do your best to not let school be your whole life.

“You know what I want to do?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“If you say study,” Steve grumbles, “I’m throwing your notebooks out the window.”

              Shaking your head no, you start by placing a kiss on Steve’s cheek. Trailing down his face onto his neck, Steve grips your hips which brings your body closer. Steve does not understand how great of an advantage he just gave you, and you try to suppress the smile peaking up from your lips. Wrapping your arm around his torso, you wait a moment before reaching behind him. Finding what you are looking for, you bring your lips back to his. Eagerly accepting your kiss he almost doesn’t feel the nerf bullet hit his side.

“Oh no,” Steve’s voice is low and you can feel your heart beat faster. “You’ve done it now.”

             Stumbling to get away, you leap over the back of the couch for cover. Peering over the edge you aim your nerf gun where you last see him, but Steve is already gone. You listen for any sudden movements and try to recall where the other gun was last seen. Remembering it was in the bedroom, you stealthily slide across the floor hoping for another sneak attack.

             Reaching the door, you find it cracked open. You slip your body slowly into the dark room and reach for the light switch. If Steve is hiding, you want to find him before he finds you. The lights turn on and brighten up the room, making your eyes squint.

“Surprise!” Steve jumps from the side of the bed as you feel two nerf bullets attack your abdomen. “I win!”

“But I got you first!” You playfully whine.

“Doesn’t count.” Steve insists. “I win, and I want first place prize.”

             Steve takes even strides toward you. Stopping in front of you, his body towers over your own. His arms pin you against the wall as his wild eyes peer into yours. A burning desire of anticipation ripples through your chest. It is almost too much to bare until Steve finally crashes his lips to yours. Running your hands over his body, and his over yours, you lead him toward the bed and show him how lucky you are to have him.

[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 25

Sorry this has taken ages to finish, but I needed extra time to shape it into a form that made sense. Also, the world itself continues to astound in how absurd it’s being, so everything is taking it's time to make sense again (or not). Back to this chapter, there's a little review built in so I won’t bother with it here. Also, I’m excited to confidently say there is one more chapter of this (!) and then it’s done! One more big plot point to cover, and then they can finally be happy together. Thanks for still reading! And as always, typos are all mine, I’ll fix them later (edited 12/19). For previous chapters, look in my archive or on AO3 (look up beatricethecat) since Tumblr hates links these days. Also, more notes at the end.

/////////////////////

"I'm hungry," Christina says.

"Me, too," Myka agrees.

"I saw sandwiches in the lobby."

"We'll get some after we meet whoever's here."

Myka knocks on a door, one she assumes an undercover Interpol officer is waiting behind, at the hotel where Morgana dropped them off. Myka takes hold of Christina's hand as the peephole lifts and the handle clicks.

"Get in here!" a voice bellows as the door swings open.

"Aunt Claudia!" Christina yanks her hand free and runs in, nearly toppling Claudia over as she tackles her.

Claudia swings Christina around, spinning them further into the room.

Myka can hardly believe her eyes. A flutter of hope rises in her chest for the first time in ages.

Claudia lifts Christina's arms above her head and wiggles them. "You're all stretched out! What happened?"

"I grew a bunch!" Christina yelps, then giggles, the sound harkening back to their less fraught days in New York.

"Man, you got heavy, too," Claudia says, lifting Christina off the floor as she scoops her into another hug.

Myka drags their bags in and closes the door, watching from the entryway as Christina steps back and twirls for Claudia.

"What'd H.G. feed this kid?"

"Maybe it's the mountain air," Myka says.

"Huh. You were right?"

"Uh-huh. Nobody filled you in?"

"Negative. All Our Lady of Brevity said was to hightail it here."

"We’ve got so much to tell you." Myka says, stepping closer to Claudia, offering herself up for a hug that Claudia readily accepts. "I'm really, really glad you're here."

*

"Damnit, H.G.!" Claudia snarls quietly, so as not to wake a post-lunch, napping Christina. "All those years, right under my nose…" Her eyes go distant while processing Myka's revelations as if lost in transgressions of the past. "But getting deported on purpose? Dude, I just can't." She shakes her head and frowns.

"Be mad later, because we need to fix this, fast. She needs her mother back." Myka glances at Christina.

"Can't Babezilla wave a magic wand and tell the cops it's above their pay grade?"

"I already asked. She can't trust them. And if she outs herself, her whole operation might crumble."

"Who cares? We just want H.G. back."

"It could make things worse for us, because somehow that's possible," Myka says. "We want Helena cleared, so we need Morgana as an ally. Remember how well it went when we were on our own?"

Claudia's shoulders sag. "So, we're screwed either way."

"Not if we can prove Helena and I were caught in the crossfire of something larger."

"Ok!" Claudia claps hands together and rubs them back and forth. "How do we that?"

"I don't know."

"Let's lay out the facts," Claudia says, leaning back in her chair. "H.G. gets deported. Then Mrs. F. drops the bomb that you're being sacrificed to keep MacPherson in jail. H.G.'s forced to feed you info, but her hands are tied otherwise. So she calls the Ice Queen and is like, 'Bro, help me, Mrs. Frederic's being sketchy as hell.' They hatch a plan to smack Mrs. F on the knuckles and cross their fingers it will work."

"That's…weirdly accurate."

"If H.G. hadn't butted in, what would have happened?"

"According to Morgana, I'd be charged with collusion, and Theodora would be implicated as the instigator. She believes Mrs. Frederic's framing Theodora."

"Because Mrs. F. says she did it as a favor for Vanessa, who was doing a favor for Theodora, who made a back-door deal with MacPherson?"

"In theory, yes. That's what Mrs. Frederic would lead the police to believe."

"But I thought Mrs. F and Theodora were best buds? Why would she double-cross her?"

"To gain immunity and kill McPherson's appeal. She'll out him as the mastermind behind the sale. And who knows what other dirt she has on him."

"So H.G. fudged that up all kinds of ways," Claudia says, lowering her voice as Christina shifts under the covers. Her brows push together, wheels turning furiously in her head. "Where's Morgana getting all this?"

"Lots of little things. Plus, she's had a year to piece it together. And that woman in Mrs. Frederic's office, Sally, is still feeding her information."

"Info Mrs. Frederic's feeding her?"

"Maybe? Good point."

"You need to talk to her."

"Sally?"

"No. Mrs. Frederic."

"How?"

"We'll figure it out." Claudia taps her laptop awake and starts typing.

"Hang on. Let me call before you do something illegal. Maybe I can get an appointment."

"Ha! Good luck," Claudia says, eyes never leaving her screen, hacking away as Myka dials.

*

At 8:30 AM sharp, Myka knocks on the gallery's door, Claudia's "You can do this!" pep talk on repeat in her head. Her initial letdown of, "Mrs. Frederic's booked until the end of the month," was, quite unbelievably, overturned an hour later by a callback from her assistant. But by then, they were plotting to crash tomorrow's lunch, as Claudia had already stolen Mrs. Frederic's schedule.

A security guard lets her in, and she follows him to the elevator. Her hands twist together as they wait, dread seeping in over confronting such a formidable woman. But this is the only way to get answers, and her resolve is true. Coaxing information out of people, especially such worldly ones, is not her strong point.

The guard knocks on Mrs. Frederic's door twice, then opens it. He pulls it closed after Myka enters.

"Good morning," Mrs. Frederic says, remaining seated behind her desk. As always, she's impeccably dressed, her grey tweed jacket accented by a string of white pearls, hair braided in thin strands lifted into an elegant bun. It's like she wakes up fully prepped, ready to bulldoze anything and everything in her path.

"G-Good morning," Myka says back, as evenly as possible, her stomach quivering as she braces for the conversation she has to have.

"Please sit." Mrs. Frederic motions to a chair in front of her.

Myka bumps into the arm as she circles around, then settles in, flashing what she hopes is a not-too-nervous smile.

"I'll be frank," Mrs. Frederic starts. "I know why you're here. I can't help you."

"Then why ask me to come?"

"You needed to hear it in person."

"You got me into this! We had meetings and emails and phone calls. You sent me to the sale. You sent me to Helena's in Wales! There's a paper trail."

"Was my name listed anywhere?"

"I..." Myka thinks back, sifting through scores of information. "... don't know. But I'll prove it, somehow." Myka's lips pinch into a thin line, visualizing her resolve. She's gotten this far, and she's not leaving until she gets answers.

"Myka," Mrs. Frederic says, her tone softening ever so slightly. "You can't fix this. The sooner you accept that, the better. You must let it play out."

"So Helena and I both go to jail? What about her kid?"

"Helena was explicitly told not to get involved. That's out of my hands. This may have been over by now if not for her—"

"May have. May have. That's not good enough." Myka's chest heaves as her nostrils flare; this is a brush off of epic proportions. "Why ruin us both just to frame Theodora?"

"Theodora?" Mrs. Frederic's brows shoot up, above the rims of her cat-eye glasses.

"I know you're framing her, saying she's the one I was working for, not you. That the painting was hers."

"Ha!" Mrs. Frederic barks, lips curling up in amusement. "That's what you truly believe?"

"Tell me why I shouldn't," Myka growls, leaning back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, scowling.

Mrs. Frederic holds Myka's gaze, then sighs deeply, shaking her head as if Myka said something either right on the nose or completely fantastical.

"Then this is all on you," Myka asserts.

"Helena should have trusted me."

"Why should she? From what I've heard, you didn't protect her in New York."

"She knew the risks."

"Maybe. But I didn't. How is it ok to manipulate someone like that?"

"My hands were tied."

"Your hands were tied? By whom?"

Myka leans forward, her hands gripping the chair arms ever more tightly as Mrs. Frederic's stoic mask loosens.

"Please," Myka pleads, teetering on the edge of her seat. If she pushes, maybe Mrs. Frederic will open up.

Mrs. Frederic slides her chair back, then stands and turns, walking slowly toward a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. She clasps her hands behind her back and gazes out at London's skyline, fixating on a point beyond the horizon. As seconds pass into minutes, Myka doesn't dare move or speak as Mrs. Frederic seems to be wrestling with an answer.

"I like you, Myka," Mrs. Frederic says. "Your earnestness is sorely lacking in this field. And contrary to what you may believe, I'm fond of Helena, too."

"Then help us."

Mrs. Frederic breathes in deeply and releases the breath slowly, eyes still focused on the skyline. "You must speak with Theodora," she says quietly, then looks over her shoulder, meeting Myka's eager gaze. "As soon as possible. And in person."

"Thank you." Myka's grip on the chair eases.

"And, Myka, be careful. You've no idea the power she holds. That's all I can say."

The hint of fear in Mrs. Frederic's voice suggests what Myka's up against, but at least she has somewhere to start. It's not particularly uplifting, nor what she expected, but it's more than she had when she walked in today. So maybe that's a win?

*

"This is one hot potato," Claudia says.

"That's one way to put it," Myka agrees, tapping on her laptop, looking up flights. "I have to go to Milan."

"Hang on. What if Mrs. Frederic's throwing you under the bus?"

"I’m already under the bus. And I'm not sure why, but I believe her."

"Let me talk to H.G. first. You call Morgana."

"I did, but she didn't pick up. She's probably at the police station being interviewed. I'll book a flight anyway."

Everyone startles as a phone rings, but it's neither Myka's nor Claudia's. Christina scrambles toward her luggage.

"It says 'Sondra,'" she says, holding it up for all to see.

"Answer it," Myka says.

"Hello?" Christina says, then listens. "Ok." She holds the phone out to Myka.

"Sondra?"

"Myka! Oh, it's bloody awful."

"What is?"

"Harry's place! It's a right mess, it is. I came to fetch the rabbit nosh and…and it's—" Sondra gasps. "Bastards!"

There's a rustling sound through the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Christina's Mari Lwyd. It's ripped to shreds! Who would do that?"

"What's a…is anything missing?"

"I can't say. Let me take a gander."

To avoid a lengthy "Sondra" explanation, Myka scribbles "What's a Mary Lloyd?" on hotel stationery and slides it towards Christina.

Christina grabs Myka's pen and spells the word correctly, then makes a quick drawing on the pad. Myka raises a brow at the sketch. It looks like a Halloween costume.

"It's a Christmas thing," Christina says. "A horse skull on a stick with a sheet over it. It was really fun! We made it out of paper and went to people's houses, singing—"

"There's papers strewn about, but I can't say they knicked anything in particular," Sondra interrupts.

"They were looking through papers," Myka says, half to herself. Mrs. Frederic certainly moved quickly if she was looking for those instructions from Cardiff. Helena had them last, but what did she do with them? And what about the letters Christina told her Helena wrote? She hopes the intruders didn't stumble upon them during their search.

"Should I check the garage?" Sondra asks.

"Maybe later? In case those creeps are there now."

"Good call," Sondra says.

What's happening? Claudia scribbles on the pad.

Someone broke in to H.G.'s, Myka scribbles back.

"Do the doors still lock?" Myka asks.

"I reckon," Sondra replies.

"Then get out of there in case they come back."

"Shouldn't I call the police?"

Myka writes, Should she call the police?

Claudia shrugs. We'll ask H.G.

"We'll ask Hel—Harry first."

"You seen her?"

"Not yet. But she's ok."

"Charlotte alright?"

"She's fine. You want to talk to her?"

"Lovely, yeah. Put her on."

"Sondra wants to talk to you," Myka says to Christina.

Christina nods and takes the phone.

"Let's make a list for you to ask Helena," Myka says to Claudia, listening in as Christina answers Sondra with mostly yeses and noes. "Let's hope there's time to get through everything during visiting hours."

"Let's hope H.G. has a plan," Claudia quips.

*

The minute Myka switches off airplane mode, a text from Claudia pops up.

-You’re gonna kick ass. Good luck!

"Thanks!" Myka texts back, wishing she could agree. They'd stayed up late last night, devising a plan with Morgana, talking on Myka's burner phone. But during her two-hour flight, instead of honing their list of questions, Helena's voice filled her mind.

Helena revealed, during visiting hours, the document from Cardiff was stowed in her suitcase. As they dug through, they found several secret compartments, one with cash, another with new aliases plus travel documents for Helena and Christina. But the document-in-question remained elusive until Claudia tugged on an out of place stitch in the lower lining. Its release revealed a stash of papers stuffed under the plastic shell. The upper lining revealed even more than Myka could have imagined.

Mixed in with the deeds to Helena's house and Harry's garage were the letters Christina had spoken about, the ones Helena had written but could never send. Myka's heart froze at the sight, then pounded wildly as she ripped them open.

She'd barely made a dent in the dense texts when Claudia whisked them away, saying it wasn't safe to keep them on hand since Helena's break-in. She skimmed as many as possible, pushing Claudia away twice as she tried to gather them together. Helena's words vacillated between the mundane in Llangynidr and her extraordinary past. There, laid out in exquisite detail, were her days in London, her time at Stanford, bringing up Christina, and her entanglement with Morgana, Mrs. Frederic, and MacPherson. She felt drunk on information, as if the stories were shots she was downing in rapid succession.

On the plane, it occurred to her the letters read like confessions; Helena laying out her life as if she'd never be allowed to speak of it again. She teared up, as Helena and Christina disappearing forever was not an option. She could never move on if she didn't know they were safe. But once the plane landed, she shook off the feeling and made a concerted effort to focus on the present.

She checks in early at her hotel and changes out of her wrinkled clothes, wanting to look and feel at the top of her game. A few steps from Theodora's door, she stops to neaten her skirt, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She'd memorized the questions they came up with, but there is no harm in running through them again.

She tugs at her collar, nerves overheating her already, though when she checked, the weather's on the chilly side of spring. Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, she enters the gallery lobby. This may be her only chance to save herself and Helena, so she better not blow it.

The room looks exactly as it did the last time she was there; a few new paintings, but overall, it's as if time hasn't passed. She walks up to the front desk, which is currently unoccupied, and waits for someone to appear.

"Hello?" she says, a little louder than usual.

"Scusa!" a woman says, scuttling out from the back. Probably in her twenties, with long brown hair, wearing a white blouse and grey skirt, she's the usual kind of generic, attractive front desk person. She looks Myka over then switches to English.

"How can I help you?"

"I need to speak with Theodora," Myka says.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but we've worked together. She knows me."

"Un momento." The woman holds up a finger and dials a number on her desk phone. "Your name?" she asks as it rings.

"Myka Bering."

The woman speaks in Italian to whoever is on the phone, but Myka gets the gist of the conversation.

"She will see you at the usual place."

"I know it, thanks."

Myka makes a hasty exit and walks a few blocks to the restaurant. She hadn't planned on meeting Theodora in public, so she'll need to adjust. If she can't speak freely, that throws a wrench in her plan.

She tells the hostess who she's looking for and is directed to Theodora's table, which is, thankfully, in a secluded back corner. To the untrained eye, Theodora looks like an unassuming European tourist in her sixties, having left her vacation home to enjoy authentic Milanese dining.

"Myka Bering!" Theodora says, smiling as she rises. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She greets Myka with a customary kiss on both cheeks.

Myka lips pinch, then lift into an awkward smile. "I, um, was in town, and I thought I'd stop by," she chirps, hoping that sounded more plausible than it felt. She does have a cover story, but it's weak, so she braces for reciting further lies.

"Excellent!" Theodora says, waving a server over as she sits. "How's your new job been treating you?"

"Very well, actually," Myka answers. Because it was before she went AWOL.

The server hands Myka a menu.

“Portaci una bottiglia di questo,” Theodora orders, lifting her wine glass towards the server.

"Oh, no, please, just a latte for me," Myka appeals, understanding Theodora's request was for an entire bottle of wine.

Theodora raises a brow but doesn't argue. "As you wish. Solo un caffè latte, allora," she says to the server.

He nods and walks away.

"Lunch is on me. Anything you choose. But I will say, they've switched to michetta for their sandwiches, and it's absolutely delectable."

"Um, thanks. I'll look this over," Myka says, reading the menu, but the words blend together on the page.

"We were sad to lose you from our team," Theodora says. "But that mess with Irene and Helena…" She shakes her head. "I can see why you'd want a fresh start."

"Can we talk about that?" Myka blurts, setting down her menu.

Theodora tilts her head as if taken off guard. "All right."

"Thank you," Myka says as the server delivers her latte.

He hovers, waiting for further instruction.

"I'll, um, order later," Myka says.

He nods again and takes his leave.

"I need your help," Myka says, once the server's out of earshot. She might as well come out with it as there's no time to be sent in circles.

"What can I do for you," Theodora answers, reclining in her seat and sipping her wine.

"I-I know what your plan was, for me, back then. And I know what's happening now."

"Oh?" Theodora cocks a brow. "Perhaps you might fill me in, then, as I'm not familiar with what you're referencing."

Myka steels herself. Time to pull out all the stops.

"You needed me to go down for the stolen painting so you'd be implicated as well. But Helena messed that up. Once you found her, you put me back in play."

This theory was a gamble, but after factoring in Mrs. Frederic's information, she, Claudia, and Morgana all agreed it was the right angle to take.

"Irene sent you to that sale, not me. I wasn't aware you were 'back in play,' whatever that means."

A tinge of annoyance colors Theodora's tone, but her calm facade stays in place. Morgana said it wouldn't be easy to rattle her. Time to lay out the facts and see if she'll bite.

"Someone sent me to Helena's house where she and her daughter were in witness protection. Now her cover's blown, and she's in police custody. Her daughter's beside herself with grief."

This isn't strictly true; Myka's pushing Theodora's sense-of-family buttons. Christina clung to Helena before leaving the precinct yesterday, but according to Claudia, she's holding up well otherwise.

"Irene told her to keep her distance. I told you to as well."

"Wait." Myka narrows her eyes. "How did you know Mrs. Frederic told Helena to stay out of it?"

"She asks me for advice from time to time," Theodora says, siping her wine then looking away.

"Then you know the police will bring me back in for questioning. And if I'm convicted, Christina will be left all on her own."

"Poor girl," Theodora says, her concern ringing hollow. "I still don't see what this has to do with me. This is Irene, clearing her name."

"No. If this is about bringing MacPherson down, it'd be better for Mrs. Frederic if Helena stayed hidden. Opening up that investigation diminishes the worth of her testimony, if she's even able to testify at all."

"Then, James is surely responsible."

"Why would he rock the boat when, as I've heard, his appeal's already swung in his favor?"

"He's a petty man."

"Petty, but not stupid. He's an opportunist. He grabbed Helena, got the real painting, then tossed her aside. Someone else found her and turned her in."

"And you think that person's me," Theodora snips.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"Seems like an awful lot of fuss, for what?"

"You're not as happy here as you lead people to believe, with your modest gallery and quiet life. I'm told you were quite the powerhouse, once. That Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson were under your thumb."

Last night, Morgana detailed Theodora's complicated relationship with Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson. She promised this line would strike a nerve if Myka employed it at the right time.

"And yet, you hadn't heard of me until Mrs. Frederic sent you my way."

"I'm sorry. I hadn't."

"There's a reason for that." Theodora motions to the waiter for more wine then points with her chin at Myka's coffee. "Drink up, child, before it gets cold."

Myka takes a sip. It's already tepid.

The server returns and pours Theodora a generous portion. "Grazie, Paolo," she says.

He nods and walks away.

Theodora swirls the liquid and takes a sip, then looks off to the side, into the distance.

Myka's patience wears thin as the pause stretches out, but she waits for Theodora to continue. This is the tipping point; if she pushes, Theodora might shut her out entirely. She drinks her drink and shifts in her chair, willing herself to hold her tongue.

"I was well established by the time those two rose up in the ranks," Theodora starts. "They pursed me, asking to work together, as I'd lend them an air of legitimacy. I found them both promising, so I took them under my wing, nurtured them. Then, when my Henry took a turn for the worst, they grabbed all I had and ran."

Myka opens her mouth to say, "I'm sorry," but Theodora continues first.

"Oh, they'll say they were helping me, following up on leads, taking clients off my hands. But when I was strong enough to step back in, they cut me off, fenced me in here. By then, they were locked in their little game of good versus evil. There was no room for anyone else."

"So, you want back in."

“I want control. Their childish games must stop. They've become graceless. Barbaric. It's shameful." Theodora's words edge towards a sneer.

"So this is personal," Myka mumbles, mind busy cataloging this revelation, conjuring up information to negotiate now the motive's shifted to revenge.

"Finding the Amber Room was Henry's obsession. His great-great-grandfather was one of the craftsmen. Those two stole his notes and passed them off as their own. He was so close right before he..." Theodora breathes a shaky breath as if anger and grief strike her all at once. "I had no idea they found it until that damn sale."

"But that was MacPherson—"

"No!" Theodora slams her palm on the table. "They found it together. Then McPherson stole it from Irene."

Myka flinches at the gesture but sees an opportunity to draw Theodora out further. "Why didn't you go to the police instead of gambling on this elaborate plan?"

"The minute I opened my mouth, those two would cover it up. And without proof, who would believe me? I had to get my foot in the door first."

"So you used Mrs. Frederic as a front and me as your 'foot in the door.' And when I go down, so do you. But why do you want to be arrested?"

"I see this is not your strong suit," Theodora says, the pity in her eyes clear at Myka's naiveté. "I'll give you a minute to figure it out. You might learn something useful."

Myka thinks. Theodora's been left powerless. No one takes her seriously, including the police.

"What you say while in custody is confidential. You could tell the police anything, and Mrs. Frederic and MacPherson won't know until they're being investigated."

"Leverage," Theodora sneers. "Their little moles won't have time to warn them what's coming. They'll duke it out to prove who's more loyal to me, who's willing to do whatever it takes to bail me out. I'll ruin them otherwise."

Myka's stomach turns. This power grab is pathetic. "So, Helena and I suffer for your vendetta?"

"Helena did this to herself."

"Helena did this to save me."

"That's not my problem."

"You once said family mattered more than anything, but you'd do this to someone's mother?"

"This is on her. Irene told her to stay out of it—"

"Do you know how we met?"

Theodora opens her mouth to answer but Myka cuts her off.

"Of course you do. You know everything. You picked me because I had nothing to lose. Nothing more to lose. I was exactly who you were looking for."

Theodora looks on without a shred of sympathy. Myka's scowl deepens.

"Helena taking me in, us falling in love…you couldn't have predicted that. But you gain nothing by condemning her and her child to this limbo. So why go through with it?"

"If she'd only done what she was told—"

"Look." Myka sets her jaw and leans forward, glowering. "I'll do whatever you want if you get her off the hook. I know you can." She fixes Theodora with a stern eye.

Theodora's lips rise, slowly, at the ends, until the wrinkles around her eyes deepen into chasms. Her smile is cold, her gaze, calculating, as if Myka just made a deal with the devil. "Come by the gallery tomorrow afternoon. I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"I'll be there," Myka says, holding onto Theodora's eyes as she casually sips her wine again. Is that it? Did she get what she came for? She can't think of anything else to say. She gulps her cold latte down and takes her leave, mind spinning in an anxious haze.

*

"Why'd you do that?" Claudia snaps, over the phone, later that evening.

"It just came out," Myka says, slumping back in an armchair at her hotel.

"H.G.'s going to be pissed!"

"I know. But she needs to be with Christina. Maybe Morgana can help?" Myka's words quiet as she sinks further down in her chair, the weight of what she's offered, going through with Theodora's original plan, hitting her full force. She already lost most of her life in the fire, and here she is, losing it again. She doesn't deserve this. Why has the universe turned against her?

“Dude, we’re gonna all help.”

"What if Theodora can't do it. What if we're both still screwed?"

"Stay positive!"

"What if that's not good enough?"

"We'll figure it out. And get you both out, if we have to. You know I'm here for the long haul. Christina won't be alone."

"Thank you. For everything. For always being there."

The sinking feeling in Myka's chest has hit the bottom of her gut. Tears should fall, but instead, a numbness swallows up her fear. This wasn't her fault, but she can't help feeling her karma's summoned up the worst. That the shock waves from the gas explosion caused a ripple effect, shoving her life, then Helena's, then Claudia's, then Morgana's off-kilter. And the only way to fix it is to start over again and follow the prescribed trajectory. If she's lucky, she accomplished this today, and the chain-link reaction will be severed.

*

The next day, Myka wanders from cafe to cafe, scenic vista to scenic vista, occupying her restless body with movement until afternoon arrives. When it does, she marches briskly into Theodora's gallery and up to the desk, where the same woman from yesterday sits.

"I'm here to see Theodora."

The woman's impassive gaze suggests they hadn't already met. "Signora Stanton is unavailable."

"But she told me to meet her here this afternoon!"

"She's on holiday. You can leave a message."

"I…I'll call her." Myka scrolls through her numbers and taps on Theodora's. She gets a message that the number's no longer in service.

"Give me her number," Myka growls.

"I can pass on a message—"

"Give me her number!" Myka slaps her palms on the desk and leans forward.

The woman scoots back in her chair, then stands. "I must ask you to leave."

"I won't leave until I speak to Theodora."

"She's not here."

"She has to be!" Myka steps around the desk towards Theodora's office. The woman blocks her, but Myka shuffles around and makes a beeline to the back of the building.

"You can't go in there!" the woman yelps, scuttling behind.

"Theodora! You said you'd have an answer!" Myka yells, stalking through the gallery storage area, directly into Theodora's office. When she steps inside, no one is present.

"I'm calling the polizia!" the woman says, turning on a heel and picking up a phone on a nearby table.

Myka circles behind Theodora's desk and plops down in her chair. As she's shuffling through papers, her phone rings.

"H.G.'s out!" Claudia chants from the other end. "Well, almost. And with restrictions, but she can go home for now. Home to Wales, Not new York, but...amazeballs, right? What'd you do?"

"I, oh...hang on, I have another call," Myka says as her line beeps. She doesn't recognize the number, but she taps accept anyway. This better be Theodora explaining what's going on.

"Myka Bering?" a woman's voice asks, a British one that's clearly not Theodora's.

"Yes."

"This is DI Stuart, London Police. I have some questions regarding the sale you were involved in a year ago. Do you have a moment? It's rather urgent."

"I'm…" Relieved Helena's out. Scared at what happens next. About to be arrested for trespassing... Myka stands and walks out of the room, raising a hand in surrender at the scowling assistant. Time to flip that switch and turn back into the naive woman she once was. "I'm happy to help, Detective. Just give me second to get off the other line."

-TBC-

NOTE: I just wanted to say, I know this twist could have been set up better in earlier chapters. But in my defense, I didn’t know it was going to go down this way back then. As I was writing this, I decided I didn’t want Mrs. Frederic to be the bad guy. At least not entirely. Because characters are more rich if they’re not painted in black and white. I also decided the whole scheme shouldn’t be (entirely) about bringing MacPherson’s downfall. It seemed too obvious and why not add some complexity to it if I could pull it off? That’s more exciting for all of us in the long run. Were I to go back in time, I’d add a little more personal interaction between Mrs. F and Myka and maybe a few more clues here and there about Theodora’s (non)-loyalties. Though, when I went back and read Myka’s interaction with Theodora, I did sort of set this up a tad without knowing it. I hope this rings true for you, as I’m sort of proud of parsing it out. Feel free to let me know! I can’t believe I’ve almost finished this! So crazy it’s been in my consciousness for half a decade.