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she-karev · 8 months ago

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Mother's Day (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev's Sister Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca and Amber Karev

Canon Episode: Season 20 Episode 7

AN: Happy Mother’s Day again guys so this is another chapter that focuses on Andrew DeLuca and Amber Karev on this special occasion. Now I don’t know the timeline of season 20 due to the production being held back a year because of last year’s writers’ protests but I imagine it’s still around 2023 so this is where the chapter is set.

Edit: So I decided to change this story because it was a little depressing that Amber's brother isn't in her life anymore so I changed it to just focus on her relationship with her mother.

Summary: Amber is worried about how she is going to tell her and DeLuca’s daughter about their extended and estranged family.

Words: 6739

May 12, 2023

Amber walks down the hallway of her house in her casual gray shirt, jeans and green utility jacket. She put her hair up in a bun and her makeup is done casual. She enters the kitchen ready to get some coffee when an unexpected surprise comes her way.

“Sorpresa!” Andrew DeLuca yells out from the kitchen table holding their 7-month-old daughter in his arms presenting a plate of crepes with a cup of coffee to the left and a bowl of fresh fruit on the right.

Amber chuckles in delight, “What is this? My half birthday was two months ago.” She sits across from them salivating at the delicious looking French pastry that is filled with whip cream and covered in blueberries.

“Well, it’s Mother’s Day today and we felt like celebrating your first with a gourmet breakfast and.” He hands her a pink construction paper that has hand prints painted over it with pink glitter spilled on in and an I Love You written above showing that Lucy made it with the help of daycare, “A Hallmark level card courtesy of our future artist here.”

Amber smiles at the paper, “Aww well thank you both, oh dang she really loves that pink glitter, doesn’t she?”

Andrew chuckles, “Yeah you gotta see what we’ve been working on for daycare.” He pulls out a large white poster from under the table and on it is a family tree that is normally done for an elementary school project, “We’re doing present your family and let me tell you our little girl really likes crafting especially when she gets to spill pink glitter all over a canvas.” Andrew smiles at Lucy who is eating Gerber puffs, “Hopefully they can read all about your family over the pink glitter bambina. They probably don’t need to since your whole family works at the hospital and everybody knows who is related to who.” Amber’s smile falls as she looks at the tree solemnly which Andrew catches, “What’s wrong?”

Amber inhales and composes herself grinning again, “Nothing I’m just anxious about these crepes you made and hope I don’t die from sugar crashing.” Amber puts the poster away and eats her breakfast with Andrew looking at her worried but goes back to feeding their baby.

Later

After checking Dorian Cardenas’s labs and telling him he is gonna move out of the ICU, DeLuca exits the room with Yasuda and Adams behind him. He goes to a nurse’s station to check his schedule for the day. He has two surgeries for today and he has to go to daycare and present the family tree with Amber and Lucy. He found her behavior after she saw the tree strange and is wondering how to ask her what the issue is. Like he summoned her he sees Amber walking toward him in her baby blue scrubs.

“Hey how’s it going?”

Amber groans, “Well my blissful morning took a disastrous turn when I saw that tree our daughter did.”

Andrew’s eyes widen at that, “Honey she’s not even one you can’t expect her to be Artemisia Gentileschi overnight. Besides I helped so it should be me you're criticizing.”

“No, it’s not about how the tree looked it’s about what was on it or wasn’t.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow still confused, “Amber your gonna have to help me out here.”

Amber sighs, “The only photos there are us, her aunts Carina, Maya, Jo, her uncles Alex and Aaron and her cousins Luna and Liam. What are we supposed to say about the rest of her family?”

“Ah I see now.” Andrew finally understands and works to relief his wife’s stress, “We’ll just tell her the truth it’s not a big deal.”

Amber narrows her eyes at him, “Okay so do you want to be the one to tell her about her grandfather who killed four patients in a manic state, her grandmother who had a stroke. Oh, and you also can’t forget her other grandfather who died right here in this hospital after a crazy resident butchered his insides while he was withdrawing from hard drugs.”

Andrew presses his lips at the dark reminder and looks at Yasuda and Adams behind him who look both shocked and horrified by their family history. He shakes his head at them and turns to Amber, “You're forgetting your mother.”

Amber chuckles at him darkly and stops abruptly with a frown, “No she does not count. She hasn’t even reached out when I told her about the pregnancy.”

“Maybe because you usually tell that news with a call and not a text to someone who still uses a home phone.” Andrew reminds her.

Yasuda speaks, “Wait you told your mother you were pregnant through a text?”

Amber glares at Mika who cowers in fear, “What are my rules?”

“Speak when you tell me to.” Yasuda repeats and shuts up.

Amber turns back to Andrew who continues their conversation, “Maybe this can be rectified with a simple phone call?”

Amber raises an eyebrow, “You did not just say that.”

Andrew sighs, “Look you’re asking how we fill the void our parents are leaving her maybe we can fill it with your mother. It’s been over two years since you actually talked to her and you and I both know she’s not gonna reach out because of her routine. She is alive, working on her mental health and sober by our family standards we got the golden ticket.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t get a famous chocolate factory here.” Lucas quips.

Andrew glares at him, “Speak when your spoken to applies to you as well Adams.” Lucas quiets causing Andrew to focus back on Amber who looks sad at their family situation, “Every family tree has a few nuts in them babe.”

“Some more than others.” Yasuda mutters.

“Do you want a slap to the face Yasuda?” Amber asks viciously causing Mika to swallow.

“I-I’m so sorry my mouth speaks before my brain and I have a dark sense of humor and-”

Amber ignores her and focuses on Andrew, “My mother is out of the question, she’s been a ghost my whole life. At this point I have learned that self-protection is best when others don’t do it for you. No, she lost the right to get to know her granddaughter.” Amber inhales deeply with Andrew looking concerned, “You know what it’s fine we’re fine. Lucy has so many people who love her more than the people cut from her life she’ll be fine.”

Andrew knows her too well to fall for that, “You’re doing that thing where you try to convince yourself everything is fine when it isn’t.”

“I didn’t have doting grandparents growing up, it sucked but Lucy has us and so many other family members within walking distance. It will soften the blow once we tell her about our Clive Barker horror family tales. We’ll flip a coin on who gets to tell her, I gotta go to the pit. I’ll see you later.” Amber walks away from Andrew who looks at her worried while Adams pitches in.

“She really told her mom she was gonna be a grandma in a text?”

“That’s my wife your judging Adams so watch it.” Andrew turns to the interns, “Transport Dorian to a patient room and monitor his vitals and I cannot stress this enough. If one of you ignores your duties again, I will have Amber DeLuca unleash her pent-up rage against her family on you and I think you learned from her brief history recap how brutal we can be especially on lazy interns.” Yasuda and Adams look scared but nod understanding, “Good now go.” The interns leave DeLuca to go inside Dorian’s room while he exhales still worrying about Amber.

Later

Amber gowns up at the pit to prepare for the incoming double trauma in front of Kwan and Millin who start to annoy her as Millin chants.

“Chest tube, chest tube, chest tube, chest tube. I have one left on my procedure log.”

Amber starts to walk out with them and Kwan converses with Millin, “Ah me too. Want to bet who finishes first?”

“Loser buys drinks at Joe’s?”

“You’re on.”

“Game faces people.” Amber reminds them as she approaches Hunt and Link when the blaring ambulances stop at the bay.

“I got this one, Link you got the other.”

“Okay Millin you’re with us, Kwan go with Link.” Amber orders and they separate. Millin follows Amber and Hunt to the ambulance when the doors open revealing a woman on a gurney with a collar on.

“What do we got?”

“Gillian Mendelson, 46. Status post MVC.” The paramedic explains while Hunt does a neuro exam, “GCS 15. Brief LOC. Small head lac. Complaints of headache.”

Gillian is awake and speaks, “I’d think it’s a migraine if I wasn’t just in a car accident.”

“Okay let’s get you inside to check you out.”

Gillian speaks stopping them, “Wait! I-I want to make sure Cassandra’s okay.” They look to their left at the ambulance next to them and see a woman coming out on a gurney in far less severe shape than Gillian. Amber notices her serene expression and glassy eyes, “Cass you okay babe?”

Cassandra responds in a loose voice, “Remember when the kids were at soccer camp and we tried those gummies?”

Amber answers for her, “I think she’s okay.”

“We got to make sure you are too. Let’s go.” Both teams wheel their patients into the pit.

Meanwhile

Andrew opens the door allowing Yasuda and Adams to wheel in Dorian into his new room.

Yasuda tries to hype him up, “Smells of antiseptic, doesn’t have a view, but…”

“It’s not the ICU.” Adams finishes, “And-”

“Surprise” A man and woman jump out of the bathroom smiling and holding a GET WELL SOON, D sign. Andrew smiles at the perfect timing as he helped them plan a surprise jump out for Dorian who needs a little happy in his life. It works because he’s smiling for the first time in a while.

“No way. James? Fiona?”

Andrew explains, “They reached out and insisted on being here. I hope that’s okay.

“More than okay. We’re in the same engineering program. Well, we were.”

“Don’t worry. We brought all your work from last semester so you can catch up.”

“No, we didn’t, jerk.” Fiona lightly pushes him, “We did bring a bunch of cards from people back at school though. Everybody misses you, D.”

“Not entirely sure why.”

Dorian chuckles at James joke as DeLuca inserts his IV, “All right, let’s get you settled here and hopefully you won’t be here for long.” Dorian exhales in relief as DeLuca gets to work.

Later

After they found out that their patient Gillian is married to someone else and that Cassandra is her mistress Owen requested that she get a CT to rule out any neuro injuries. Amber found the situation both amusing and sad, amusing because she had to hide Cassandra’s bra when Aaron walked in and sad because Aaron seemed like a guy who didn’t deserve to be in a situation like this where his wife is sleeping with her friend behind his back. It makes her think about how her own messy family life which brings her back to issue of her nuts in the family tree and how her daughter will handle it.

“How long does this take?” Gillian asks while she is inside the MRI with Hunt and Amber observing from the monitor room.

“It should be quick.”

“Well, I was hoping it would be longer. If my head wasn’t pounding, I’d just as soon stay.”

Amber presses the intercom, “Just try to relax Gillian, imagine you’re lying on a beach getting a suntan. It doesn’t feel like it but that what imagination is for.”

“You want to know how I got in this mess, don’t you?” Gillian asks in shame with Hunt saying no and Amber overlapping with a kind of causing her to explain, “Aaron and I got married right after law school. We had our kids; we did our jobs. And then the kids were older, and work was-Well, I do tax law, and all of it just got so boring. Uninspiring.” Amelia walks in to check the brain scan, “But then I met Cass at the PTA, and she made life not boring. So here I am with a giant headache. Literally and figuratively.

“Complicated.” Amber snaps out of it and turns to Amelia.

“Do you see a subarachnoid hemorrhage or maybe an epidural hematoma?”

“No, her scan’s clear. Situation’s a mess. Well, good luck.”

Amber purses her lips and nods while Shepherd leaves. She presses the intercom so Gillian doesn’t hear her, “No offense to Gillian but I would take boring any day of the week including Sunday. Chaos can be exhilarating but then the high dies and you end up in pain and innocent people suffer the consequences of your mistakes.”

Hunt turns to Amber with a worried look and decides to pry, “Is everything okay with DeLuca?”

“No, we’re fine I’m talking about my family as in the ones who don’t live here.” Hunt still looks confused and Amber sighs at his expression, “I have to figure out how to explain to my precious and innocent child that her grandparents are either dead, manic or schizophrenic. It’s a can of works that’s gonna make her seriously question her sanity and her parents for thinking it was a good idea to mix our time bomb genes together. And my brother who I would go to for this picked this week to go to Nebraska for a peds surgery.”

“Your side has schizophrenia and DeLuca’s is bipolar, those are conditions that can be monitored and treated with the right therapy and medication. And if it makes you feel better medicine is advancing constantly and when she reaches that age the medications, she can take could be more effective with little side effects than it has today.” Amber nods feeling a tiny bit better, “And as for when you tell her you just have to take it one step at a time. If she’s anything like you apart from looks she’ll be fine. Kids are tough and they adjust well to bad situations better than adults. You of all people can understand that.”

Amber looks back at Gillian, “One thing is for sure Gillian’s head is not the only thing that’s gonna blow up.”

Meanwhile

Andrew and Carina walk down the hall to talk about Amber’s concerns as he is also starting to let it sink in. He hadn’t really considered it but now that Amber brought it up, he can see why she was worried. It’s hard to give your child the sex talk when they reach teen hood but how do you explain the whole messy family history that involves murder, death and insanity.

“I tried to tell her it wasn’t a big deal but the more I think about it I start to realize she’s right.” Carina sips her coffee paying attention, “I mean it was bad enough for us with just papa but for Lucy she has papa and so many other family tales that will make her use a nightlight for the rest of her life.”

“It’s not that bad it could be worse.”

Andrew scoffs in disbelief and counts with his fingers as he recaps to her, “Junkie grandpa who was murdered, manic grandpa who killed four patients, grandma who died of a stroke and a schizophrenic grandma who probably doesn’t know she exists. Can you think of a family that’s worse than that? Maybe the Stark’s from Game of Thrones or the Lannister’s definitely the Targaryen’s.”

Carina sighs, “I swear you and Maya are alike sometimes. She told me she was worried her genes were gonna ruin the baby because of how her father treated her. It’s the hormones but I know it’s from a deep-rooted fear that you have as well. We’re not our parents Andrea and neither are our precious babies.”

“Aren’t you worried at all about how Liam is gonna take it when you tell him about his cruel grandfathers and his homophobic uncle living on the streets?”

“Of course, I am but the good thing about growing up the way we did is that we know how to help our children process very shocking information. We just have to remind them of the people who love them and that despite how we were raised we are not gonna do to them what our parents did to us.” Andrew nods processing her advice, “Lucy is gonna be okay and so is Liam you just have to be prepared for when they have questions and answer them as honestly and as gently as we can.”

Andrew nods thankful for having a wise sister, “Thanks, I needed to hear that…You know Liam is lucky to have a mom like you, he’s gonna grow up great.” Carina looks away bashful, “I know this because he’s not the first kid you raised. That was me.”

Carina grins at Andrew gratefully who grins back, “Thank you I needed to hear that too.” Her phone beeps and her grin fall, “911 from Jo I have to go.” Carina runs away leaving Andrew in the dust.

Later

After ruling out neuro injuries in CT, Hunt and Amber moves Gillian back to the pit and gave her an ice pack for the headache. Aaron was waiting for her and is agitated but the news they give him.

“What do you mean her scan is clear?”

“Aaron.”

Aaron persists, “You’re clearly in pain.”

Amber explains, “Her scans showed no obvious hematomas or hemorrhages but we’re gonna find out what’s causing the headaches.”

“We’re gonna keep her in for observation. This could be a concussion. She did hit her head pretty hard.”

Aaron looks confused at Hunts diagnosis, “You did?”

“It’s how she got the cut.” Amber explains as Gillian looks flustered clearly afraid of being exposed.

“Why didn’t the airbag inflate?”

“Oh, uh, it did. I-I hit the door.” Gillian lies, “Can we not talk about this now?”

“But the cut’s on the right side of your head.” Amber presses her lips at Aaron getting closer to the harsh truth with Hunt stepping in.

“Listen, the good thing is-”

Aaron interrupts and keeps pestering Gillian, “If you were driving, the door would be-”

Gillian groans, “Oh, my head is really pounding.”

Amber clears her throat, “Just keep the icepack on the head Gillian, Mr. Mendelson why don’t you take a walk while your wife recuperates, I think that would be-”

Aaron ignores her, “She hit you so hard that it flipped you in your seat? That woman should definitely not be driving our kids around. She’s irresponsible and-”

“WE’RE HAVING AN AFFAIR!” Gillian yells out so loud the whole pit hears her.

“And there’s the blow up.” Amber whispers to Hunt both of them feeling awkward as Gillian spills the dirty beans.

“What’d you say?” Aaron asks in shock.

“An affair! You know, sex? The thing you and I never have anymore. That’s what Cass and I were doing in the back seat, like we’ve been doing for two years. Two years! Any more questions?” Aaron looks at his wife hurt but doesn’t speak instead he leaves in pain with Hunt and Amber as a front row audience to the farce, “I felt a lot better yelling at him.”

Amber nods, “Well, sometimes getting it all out can be a huge relief to the psyche.”

“No, no, I-I feel awful now, but when I’m yelling…MY HEAD DOESN’T HURT!” Amber jumps in shock at the sudden outburst and looks at Hunt who is also confused by this new development.

Later

Amber walks into the lobby rubbing her ear with her finger after getting Gillian back into CT. Her patient was screaming the whole time because it made her head feel better. They were able to diagnose her and sent her to an O.R. before she damaged all of their ear canals. Amber spots Andrew charting by the station in his navy scrubs and navy-blue scrub cap with a constellation pattern on it.

Amber stands next to him leaning against the station on her elbows, “Hey.”

Andrew smiles at her, “Hey I heard about your patient who screamed in your face.”

Amber chuckles, “She didn’t scream at me she screamed so she could relieve her cranial pressure. We sent her up to neuro, it should be a simple procedure. I just hope she doesn’t scream while Shepherd is in her brain.”

“It would be an interesting sight.” Amber smiles at that when they hear a familiar voice yelling at someone behind them.

“Because he was shot!” Amber and Andrew quickly turn around to find Lucas Adams yelling at Dorian’s friends in the middle of the waiting room, “Three bullets went into his body. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks.”

Andrew looks on in shock and anger, “Damn it come on.” Amber and Andrew move towards Adams who keeps admonishing Fiona and James who look at him in hurt shock.

“And he’s already feeling disconnected enough not knowing how long he’ll be here. He doesn’t need to listen to stories about people he doesn’t know or graduations he won’t attend. He just needs to know that you’re actually here for him.”

Andrew reaches Adams and sternly orders him, “Adams take a walk right now.”

He ignores him and keeps going, “Maybe it’s for the better that you weren’t here. You obviously have no idea what he’s been through.”

Andrew grabs Adams elbow forcing him to face him as he glares at him in anger and disappointment, “Go find a dark corner somewhere while I clean up your mess again. Now.” Adams stands there with a pissed off look forcing DeLuca to yell, “Now!” Adams leaves in a huff. Amber follows him to get answers while her husband apologizes to the victims of Adams tirade.

She catches up to him in the towel room, “What the hell was that?! Are you out of your damn mind?!”

Adams quickly turns to face her, “Dorian’s been here for 51 days, and they waited till now to visit him?”

“He didn’t want them here!” Amber explains, “Post op day 15 his phone was blowing up with texts from them asking him where he was. He told me to text back that he was okay they didn’t even know about what happened until two weeks ago. But even if that wasn’t the case that doesn’t warrant you to verbally assault his friends, do you really think that’s how a doctor is supposed to talk to his patients loved ones?! You have disappointed me in a new way that I didn’t think even you were capable of.”

“And what are you gonna do huh? Cut me off like you cut your own mom out of your life?”

“Adams watch it!” Amber registers Andrew behind her speaking in a protective tone.

“Can anybody live up to your standards?” Adams asks her in anger, “Are you really such a perfectionist that you toss your own blood in the garbage for what is no doubt a little mistake that you can’t overlook. You didn’t even tell your own mother about your daughter you just assumed she would be fine with you deserting her.”

Andrew opens his mouth to speak but Amber beats him to it as she glares up at Adams in rage, “You have no right to think you know anything about me or my family! You don’t relive the memory of your mother chasing you around the house with a knife and watching your brothers hold her down and force her to swallow pills so she wouldn’t kill me. Or how worried you were every time you saw your mother in bed afraid she was dead. Or how you questioned every relationship you have ever been in afraid you would make the same mistake your mother made and settle for a man who beats you and your brothers. If you had even one moment in your life that amounts to that pain and excuses your outbursts, please tell me!”

Adams looks at her blankly confirming her answer, “I thought so. Now if I hear you yelling at a patient or family member like that or hear this childish tantrum at another superior surgeon, I will personally see to it that you are suspended without pay!” Adams looks down on the floor with a frustrated look at his own dilemma.

“Get out of my sight.” Lucas walks away still furious at both his bosses and Dorian’s friends. Amber pinches the bridge of her nose and turns to Andrew with a frustrated look, “I swear I am close to killing that kid if he keeps pissing me off.”

“We both know he’s gonna keep pissing you off.” Andrew steps closer to Amber and grips her shoulder to bring her back down to earth, “He’s an idiot and you shouldn’t take what he said to heart. You didn’t abandon your mom you just have a relationship that works better long distance.”

Amber sniffles, “I…I had this idea in my head that if I ever had kids, I could maybe understand the mistakes my mom made and be less angry at her but I’m not I’m even more furious with her. I look at Lucy and I go over every scenario in my head and how I can protect her from things I suffered growing up. I hold her in my arms, and I understand even less why she did what she did. I keep wondering why she wasn’t a better mother when my brother and I needed her instead of Alex raising us. And why she got better after we didn’t need her anymore and when all the freaking damage was done.”

Andrew looks at Amber in sympathy and tips her chin up with his finger so he can look in her eyes. He looks into her tear stained eyes and says earnestly, “I’m not gonna defend what she did to you but I am gonna remind you that she was suffering from schizophrenia and trauma from being married to your father. She did things that she normally wouldn’t do on a good day and that is not on you. You can’t erase what she did and you can try to make sense of it but it’s not gonna change what happened. Believe me I learned that the hard way with my own mentally ill parent and when I hurt you too after my own mental breakdown like your mom did.”

“You didn’t choose the mania.” Amber reminds him.

“No but I did choose to ignore your concerns and lashed out when you tried to help me.”

“Yeah but you got better.” Amber defends him, “She didn’t, she never got better when I needed her to and neither did your dad. God, I remember praying every night that my mom takes her meds that is how scared I was of what was gonna come the next day. It’s all the more reason why I think I subconsciously choose to tell her about Lucy in a way I knew she wouldn’t respond because I’m scared of exposing my daughter to that pain.”

Amber sighs while her husband rubs her shoulders comforting her, “Am I a terrible person for basically cutting her out of my life because of something she had no control over.”

Andrew takes a moment before answering with sympathy, “She had no control over the illness but she had control of how to tackle it. You couldn’t force her to get help when you were a kid like I couldn’t force my dad. But we learned from their mistakes and we’re doing better than they did. A lot better because even after all I did and said to you when I was manic I earned your trust back and we moved past it and we’re better than ever. Maybe your mom can work to earn your forgiveness or not it’s up to you but you are not a terrible person for choosing to protect yourself and Lucy from that pain you worked so hard to overcome. It doesn’t make you a bad person it makes you the strong and protective woman I fell in love and had a beautiful daughter with.”

Amber looks at Andrew in awe as she cradles his stubbly cheek, “How did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself the same thing every time I look at you.” Andrew grins and kisses Amber before pulling her in for a hug that she takes in feeling comfort in his warmth and kindness.

Later

After prepping her for surgery Amber assists Amelia in Gillian’s brain surgery to fix her Arnold-Chiari malformation. During the entire time Gillian was yelling because it was the only thing that could relieve her headache to Amber’s ire as her ears are still stinging from the close proximity. Amber is in the O.R. retracting as Amelia does the craniotomy.

Amber exhales in relief, “I swear I was close to doing the craniotomy myself in pre op just to get her to shut up.”

Amelia chuckles, “Like you’ve never yelled at anyone in this hospital until their ears bleed. Maybe you can consider this karma.”

“I only yell when someone deserves it. Like you nephew this afternoon.” Amelia looks up taken back and Amber explains, “He yelled at Dorian’s friends in the middle of the lobby and told them they were making things worse. I didn’t make that big of a scene when I was an intern and believe me I’ve had visitors in the waiting area that were actually making things hard for the patient.”

“Intern year is hard.” Amelia reminds Amber as she pulls a piece of the skull back, “And his friends are ignoring him and treating him like the plague so there’s that.”

“It doesn’t mean he has to take it out on James and Fiona or me for that matter and I am his chief resident. Maybe you can remind him that tonight with a smack to the head.”

“What did he say to you to warrant a smack?”

Amber keeps retracting with a frown, “He said I was a control freak who abandons her family the first mistake they make. Jackass. I mean look I know I can be a hardass on them but that’s only because it’s the only thing that can get through their thick skulls and actually be doctors. I’m just waiting for Adams to do that but no he makes it his mission to piss me off and integrate himself in my private family matter.”

“You mean about you not telling your mother your pregnant?” Amber looks up surprised that Amelia knows, “Word travels around fast and Adams is just angry right now and when me and his uncle got angry, we just pushed people away when really we wanted them to be there for us in our time of need.”

“And I thought me and Alex sucked in communication.” Amelia chuckles, “But he doesn’t have the right to think he knows why I haven’t actually told my mom the news. He didn’t live my life so he shouldn’t be so quick to judge or take out his issues on me.”

Amelia nods, “Your absolutely right I will talk to him…so how come you haven’t told your mom about Lucy?” Amber raises an eyebrow at her, “I mean don’t get me wrong I have my own issues with my mother to the point where I didn’t tell her I had a brain tumor but that was because she missed my wedding. I guess you got a reason for not telling your mom she’s a grandma.”

Amber chuckles bitterly, “How much time have you got?”

Amelia looks down at the exposed brain, “Well we’re waiting for the cranial pressure to swell down so I got time.”

Amber sighs before starting, “She was never really good with major events or minor ones for that matter. She couldn’t handle bad news at all, she would make it about herself and skip her meds. On the good days she would be in bed staring at nothing and the bad days she would be a human wrecking ball just destroying everything in her wake. My brothers basically had to raise me and hid me from her as best as they could. I know they did their best but she was beautiful, so she didn’t have trouble finding a man. It was easy for her but horrible for her kids, especially her 8-year-old daughter. I would wake up and there would be some asshole of the month in the kitchen and my mom passed out in bed.” Amelia looks at Amber in pity, “I even had a routine where I would sneak out through my bedroom window and run away on my brothers 10 speed bike.”

Amelia frowns behind her mask, “Aww Amber that sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it was. Now you can see why I am reluctant to invite her into my daughter’s life. She’s just gonna make it about herself like she always does.”

“She might surprise you, mine did when I told her, and my son gets a grandma about 5 times a year.”

Amber snorts, “She failed miserably as a mother I don’t think she’s gonna do well as a grandma.”

“Okay are there any moments of your childhood that weren’t straight from a horror story? Was your mom always so awful?”

Amber sighs, “…No she had one good year when I was a kid. She was a librarian so in that year we would hang out and play hide and seek in the stacks and she would let me read on top of her desk. It was the only year I felt like I had a mom and not a mental patient.”

“So, focus on that. Your mom is doing better now and she’s the person she was that year. She might have given you some pretty bad memories, but she gave you some good ones too. Maybe this time she can give your kid more good than bad and thrive in grandmotherhood. Show your kid that even a messed-up family like hers has love and joy.”

Amber looks at Amelia is thought before getting back to the surgery.

That Night

Amber sits on the king-sized bed with Lucy in her lap wearing black silk pajamas and Lucy in a pink onesie. On the bed beside them is an old converse shoe box with photos and other items inside it instead of her black converse that she wore out years ago. She decided to stroll down memory lane with Lucy so she can show her that even in a dark family like hers there’s still happy photo worthy moments in documentation.

“What do we have in here? What can mommy show you?” Amber gasps as she pulls out a photo of her at 15 wearing a Sandy Dee Summer’s Night costume for her high school production of Grease, “Wow look at this Lucy this is your mommy back when she was in theater.” Amber sings the famous song, “Summer loving happened so fast. I met a girl crazy for me.” Amber giggles at the memory, “Let’s hope you get my vocals instead of your dad’s.”

“Hey, come on I’m not John Travolta but I can rock the leather jacket and gelled back hair.” Amber sees Andrew outside the door grinning at them in his black tank top and gray pajama bottoms before hopping in and sitting beside his family. He digs into the shoebox, “Let’s see what else we can make fun of your mommy for.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure buddy because I got some pretty embarrassing pictures of you courtesy of Zia Carina.” Amber pulls out a photo of a young Andrew smiling and covered in marinara sauce causing them to laugh, “She told me how you spilled two jars of tomato sauce on yourself when you tried to reach a high shelf.”

“Yeah, your daddy was a little clumsy as a kid Lucy.” He looks at his daughter in Amber’s lap who holds a photo looking at it inquisitively, “Hopefully you don’t get that from me.”

“Oh, look at this.” Amber shows Lucy a photo of Aaron in his high school baseball uniform, “You know your uncle was so bad at baseball that he asked me to let him play in the sandlot with me and the other neighborhood boys. I tried telling him no because I knew he would embarrass me but he was persistent. He said he wanted to beat the rival baseball team but really, he just wanted to impress the girls in his class. Worked his way up to MVP though.” Lucy reaches out and touches the photo of her uncle Aaron, “That’s your uncle Aaron in a nutshell, loved to prove me wrong.”

Andrew smiles at her and pulls out a small and worn-out Matilda book from the box, “Your mom was a massive bookworm when she was little like you. She used to hang out at the library with your grandma and just scour the shelves for the next read.”

Amber grins and holds the book, “Yeah, your grandma Helen used to read me this during bedtime when I was little. She always liked to read me books about smart girls because that’s how girls are supposed to be written.”

Lucy babbles and Amber pulls out a photo of herself at 8 years old in a hospital bed with white gauze wrapped around her head. Despite this she is smiling wide in the picture with Alex next to her grinning, “That’s when mommy had a crush on Ryan Sheckler and thought she could do an ollie on her board just like him. But a visit to the ER and 12 stitches on the cranium proved me wrong. Don’t let the ‘I’m cool’ grin fool you; your uncle Alex was a mess before we took this photo. He badgered the doctors and the nurses and told them to run tests for any neuro injuries.” Amber grins at that memory, “He acts tough but he’s as soft as a marshmallow once you get past the crusty shell. You’ll see that just like I did.”

Amber kisses Lucy’s head while Andrew grins at the sight holding Lucy’s tiny hand that is holding a photo. Amber digs into her box, “I don’t think we have a picture of your grandma in here…how about we call her and ask her for one?” Amber looks at Andrew who is taken back by this turn but stays supportive.

“Are you sure you want to call her?”

Amber inhales and looks at Lucy who holds a tiny mushroom plush, “Yeah why not. Let’s call her.” Amber pulls her phone out while Andrew moves Lucy from her lap to his as he watches Amber dialing the number and holding the phone to her ear, “It’s ringing…hey mom it’s me.”

Andrew stays quiet as he observes hoping it goes well, “Yeah it has been a long time. I don’t know if you got my last text…” Amber chuckle sheepishly and scratches her head, “No I didn’t think you did, you rely on your home phone more than cell.”

Andrew purses his lips at his theory being proven right while Amber talks to her mom on the phone, “Well listen that text was to tell you that me and Andrew were pregnant…no I’m not pregnant now I was about a year ago and seven months ago we had a baby. A little girl…I can imagine it’s shocking hearing about this just now sorry…her name is Lucia, we named her after Andrew’s mom.”

Andrew grins at that kissing the top of Lucy’s head, “We’re calling her Lucy…Do you want to talk to your granddaughter? I can put her on for you if you want…okay.”

Andrew looks down at Lucy who looks at Amber blankly, “Do you want to talk to grandma?”

Amber moves the phone next to Lucy’s ear and smiles at her, “Say hi to grandma baby.” Lucy babbles over the phone Amber is holding and her parents look at each other with grins on their faces over Lucy finally meeting her grandma.

#greys anatomy #greysedit #grey's anatomy #greysanatomyedit #mothers day #motherslove #mother #amber karev #andrew deluca #lucy deluca #elizabeth gillies #liz gillies #giacomo gianniotti #headcanon #mine #andrew deluca imagine

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anfeycare · 3 months ago

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i never mentioned them here, but i'm thinking of my Dorian Gray character again

Sian L. Hare

(read Sian as "Zian" �� just like the "-sian" in "dionysian")

yes, that's their name

yes, they go by they/them/theirs/themself and neutral words only

i'm feeling such an anxiety to draw them again, but i gotta finish other stuff first and i have so many ideas on my queue khsvckkjs agh-

i miss them 😅

#anfey care #art #digital art #drawing #artists on tumblr #the picture of dorian gray #original character #oc #project #sian hare #the painting of sian hare

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bluecatwriter · 6 months ago

Note

For the ask game: Sense and Abstinence, perhaps? :O

Awww yeah, thank you for giving some love to one of my Dorian Gray fics! :D

"Sense and Abstinence:" "Dorian Gray, in his hunger for new experiences, is considering becoming a Catholic priest, and of course he must tell Lord Henry Wotton all about it."

(This is a smutfic, so be ye warned.)

-Whereas I tend to pretty actively brainstorm for my Dracula fics, ideas for Dorian Gray fics tend to jump out of dark alleys and hit me with a baseball bat. In this case, the only idea was, "Dorian has a Catholicism kink, Henry Wotton has erectile dysfunction." The former is supported by canon, and the latter came from me reading up on the side effects of opium. Also, I hadn't done a Dorian/Henry fic yet, so I figured I'd throw these two terrible men in the same room together and see what happened.

-Writing scenes from Dorian's perspective is a trip because he makes every single thing about him. He bursts through the door to tell Henry he's going to become a priest, and Henry not being awake and eager to hear about his latest fad is a personal affront to him; seeing Henry's disheveled state makes him feel that he is far superior to him; and so on. It's a bit of a trip, but also pretty interesting to write.

-Getting into Henry Wotton's head long enough to write his dialogue is pretty exhausting; I often write really long paragraphs rambling with every pretentious and cynical thing I can think of on a topic, then edit down to the best ones.

-I think that Dorian sincerely (as sincerely as anything at this point) wants to experiment with abstinence from worldly pleasure, but he's not very good at it, and Henry is not a great person to go to for such encouragement.

-Without laying it on too heavy, I wanted to explore a bit in this fic the different ways that Henry and Dorian approach seducing women. Henry's a jerk, certainly, but I headcanon him as being fairly good about consent— he gets disgusted and moves on the moment a woman starts waffling about what they're doing. Dorian, on the other hand, gets a thrill from manipulating people. Of course, he is greatly suffering during this fic, since he's not had sex in "nearly a week." ;) (I figured that was quite a sacrifice for him.)

-I don't think Henry's actively trying to goad Dorian into anything in this fic— he's just spouting random stuff and wishing Dorian could go away so he could smoke in peace. But this indifference has the effect of getting Dorian all worked up. I tried to show that them having sex is commonplace by this point, and that it's become something that's not actually pleasurable for either of them— they just do it out of habit, or to prove a point, as is the case here.

-A common thread of my characterization of Henry is him randomly spouting very direct, lewd statements, flustering whomever he's with. He's gotta have something for shock value, I guess.

-Dorian thinking about his portrait and wondering if his rough treatment of Henry will affect it was the key to the scene I didn't know I needed— the idea of him getting off to his own portrait just seemed to fit. Meanwhile, Henry is just waiting until he can go back to his cigarette.

-I am generally all for shutting up Henry by making him give someone a blowjob, but I honestly feel sorry for him here. Dorian is not a considerate lover in this canon, to put it mildly. I wanted to give a sense that this a pretty bad experience for both of them, but especially Henry, even though he's resigned himself to being used by Dorian.

-I liked the idea of Dorian immediately moving on after this— he's had his experience, he's talked to Henry about the idea, and now he has zero interest in joining the Catholic church because it's not new anymore. He's already on to the next thing, and he feels ever-so-slightly uncomfortable about this before forcibly shutting down that part of his brain.

-Conclusion: Everyone in this fic had a bad time. ;)

Thanks again! :D

(Ask game here)

#ask games #answered #director's cut game #the picture of dorian gray #dorian gray #henry wotton #my writing

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basket-of-epiphanies · 2 years ago

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tagged by @impossibletruths (kisses u)

3 ships: songxiao always songxiao, steddyhands bc theyre fucking constantly on the brain im sorry, and uhhh fuckin! kanera!

first ship ever: probably some warrior cat ship but we’re gonna go with hanleia

last movie: mmmmmmmm i gotta be honest i think it was the lego batman movie

last song: Airplane pt 2 by BTS

currently reading: technically the portrait of dorian gray

currently watching: mmm perpetually the x files, sort of part way thru another rewatch of the untamed, and i want to start good omens again

currently consuming: nothing atp but i had some tasty gimbap for dinner!

currently craving: hug,,,

I'm tagging: its way too late for me to be thinking about who to tag rn sorry folks

#tag game

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biorust-art · 2 years ago

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Tag game

Was tagged by @mara-phelion ! thank you so much!

three ships: Dorym, Orym/Ashton/Dorian, Bobadin

first ever ship: Uhhhhh Etihw/Kcalb from The Gray Garden (rpg maker game) :0 damn I haven't thought about them in a while… I wonder what they’re up to

last song played: Pomegranate Seeds by Julian Moon… its currently stuck in my head on loop

last movie watched: Del Torro’s Pinocchio—it's really cute and I love Claymation/ stop motion so, gotta support! Before that it’s Wendel and Wild so two for two for the animation category

currently reading: The Beautiful Ones by Silvia Morano-Garcia (one of my fav authors) and Princess Jellyfish (again)

currently watching: Just finished Wednesday on Netflix, also watching Attorney Woo. I am eagerly waiting for The Last of Us and Legend of Vox Machina to come out.

currently consuming: root beer and Boston creme pie

currently craving: the work week to be over any and everything, I moved to an island so if I want any kind of food I have to make it or hope the chowhall has it,,, I haven’t had pizza in months.

uhhhh im not good at tagging people, so if anyone wants to hop on this, go for it!

#thanks again for the tag! it really brightened up my day!

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asktheghosthost · 3 years ago

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Homecoming

Jai belongs to @catinabag, and is used with their permission. This was a little drabble gift that kept growing until I finally decided to just finish and post it. It’s a little lengthy, hence the Read More. Enjoy!

Fog was rolling in thick that night, but it wasn't doing much to dissuade the man lumbering along the edge of the road. Occasionally, he'd glance up at a damp street sign, grunt in acknowledgement of it, and keep going. He really wasn't relying on them, anyway. It was an... instinct, a feeling that pulled him to where he needed to be. And the closer he was getting, the stronger the pull became.

"Come to the Square," a voice whispered, simultaneously at his ear and in his brain. "Come to the Square, and you'll be home..."

Home... He hadn't seen home-- hadn't had a home-- in... God, how many decades now? Time had lost all meaning to him.

He tugged his pinstripe jacket closer around him. Fuck it was cold. Wasn't Louisiana supposed to be all muggy and swampy and hot? How many more miles of this did he have to deal with? Was it even worth it? What the hell was he even doing, really--

The honk of a car horn made him turn away from his thoughts. He glared at the car, a dull yellow taxi, as it slowed to a crawl next him. The window rolled down, and a scruffy faced driver leaned over the passenger seat and called out, "Y'all need a ride?"

Standing there, arms stiffly around him, the man hesitated to say anything. "Uh..."

The driver grinned. "Tell you what, brah, if you goin' the same way I am, and it's under five miles, no charge. Lagniappe. Deal?"

The man nodded, and quickly got into the car. "Thanks," he grunted. "'Preciate it."

"No problem, no problem." Pulling away from the road's edge, the driver continued forward. "Y'all ain't from around these parts, are you? What's your name, ami?"

"No," he said, gruffly, shaking his head. "It's Jai. Ghast." He hadn't said his real last name in years. It was almost like saying a foreign word, like his tongue didn't know how to curl around it properly.

The driver let out a short, relieved laugh. "For a moment there, I thought you was gonna say 'Gracey.' Ah, there's a family no one wants any part of. 'Cause of them, most drivers won't make rounds 'round here."

Jai furrowed his brow in confusion. "They a crime syndicate, or something?"

"Non, ami. They're all dead." His grin glinted in the rearview mirror. "Now where you heading to, Monsieur Ghast?"

Go to the Square...

"Um, the Square?" Jai cringed inwardly.

Now it was the driver's turn to look confused. "New Orleans Square?"

Jai pursed his lips and his gray eyes darted from side to side. He wagered, "Yes?"

The driver's grin widened. "You in luck, ami! That's where I be headed to." The cab took off with such force, Jai was pressed back into the seat. "Ol' Gabe, he get you there tout suite!"

Jai's knuckles faded to a pale beige as he gripped the door handle. The vehicle-- and his stomach-- lurched. And then there was a strange sensation under him, or rather, a lack of sensation. It was subtle at first, hard to pin point, and then he realized what it was: there wasn't any road under them. There should have been the familiar pings of grit and gravel under the tires. A steady whoosh from below his feet. There was an eerie whistling, however, and he forced his head to turn to look out the window.

They weren't connected to the road. They weren't connected to anything. Tiny points of lights--streetlights-- barely shown through the mist dozens of feet beneath them.

"The hell! What're you doing, you crazy Cajun?!"

"Why, I'm gettin' you to your destination, of course!" Gabe cackled. Moonlight flashed through him, betraying he was transparent.

Jai let out a heavy sigh and slumped back against the seat. How had he not figured it out? "This some kind of show you put on for tourists?"

"Gotta get my kicks somehow, ami." He gave a good-natured shrug. "Besides, one of us had to let on we was dead."

Jai was quiet for a few seconds. "Fair."

The next few minutes were thankfully uneventful, and the cab touched down on centuries old cobblestone.

Jai didn't open the door right away, instead rolling down the fogged window.

Up ahead loomed a massive, white house, a plantation-style mansion. It shone like a bleached tooth, a beacon in the misty night. The imposing black, wrought iron gate ahead of it was almost easy to miss in comparison. Even easier to miss were the strange, misshapen large stones scattered across the front yard of the property.

"This is the Square?"

"New Orleans Square is the town, but this is the place you need to be. Gracey Manor." Gabe's grin shifted into a gentler smile. "Safe travels, ami. And when you see old Beauregard, you tell him Gabe Guidry says hi."

"Beauregard?"

But Gabe was gone. The cab was gone. Jai was suddenly standing outside that menacing gate. With a long, high creak, it slowly opened, gesturing he should enter.

Jai licked his lips and ran a hand back through his shaggy black hair. Graceys. The dead people.

He straightened his jacket and stepped forward, a dirt path becoming more and more visible under his black leather shoes.

Moving forward, he got a better look at the property. A cement bird bath was to his left. A small pool was in it, but was too dark to see through. Jai had a feeling he'd regret sticking his hand in.

Near the bird bath was a statue of a smug, fluffy Persian cat. This in turn was flanked by multiple tiny bird statues. Nearby were other stone animals--a duck, a snake, a few different dogs, a monkey...

Wait...

The spacing between the animals led him to look at tiny placards under each, which all listed names and dates. This was a pet cemetery!

Cute, he thought. But then it dawned on him what those larger stones were. Who has a house flanked by a graveyard?

Beauregard…

With a new sense of urgency, he bounded up the front steps and barely stopped before gripping the enormous bronze door knocker and slamming it down three times. "Open up." His throat was suddenly tight. Angry tears welled in his eyes. "Open up, you creepy bastard!"

As if responding to his impatience, the door was pulled open with such force, Jai was flung inside. Skidding, he caught himself before he could fall.

A low voice greeted him in the darkness of the foyer. “Welcome, wayward soul.” An unseen hand helped him straighten up.

That voice… Jai knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d heard it. That tightness returned to his throat.

“Beauregard?”

A man appeared in front of him, one who was simultaneously familiar and a stranger. Thin, lanky, like him, with long, shaggy hair, only shock white instead of black. Taller than Jai by a few inches, but he always had been. They stared at one another, jaws agape, eyes wide.

Jai took a couple of unsure steps forward, but the other ran to him, and then flung his arms around him and hugged him so tightly Jai thought he’d never break free.

“My baby brother!” He pulled away, only to hold Jai’s shoulders and look him over. “It’s been so long.” His voice cracked. “You… You look… so grown up.” A tiny sob-chuckle escaped him, but he was grinning.

Jai took a moment to take in some of the new details of his sibling—the pale, blind right eye, and the scarring over it that ran from brow to cheek; the bruising left behind on his thin throat, and its answer, a thick noose that hung loosely under it like some kind of macabre tie. His green coat was threadbare at the shoulders and elbows, and his purple waistcoat was slightly too long. The pinstripe slacks were all right, but his spats were misaligned.

“You look like shit.”

Beauregard laughed and wiped his eyes. “That’s fair.”

“Sorry,” Jai said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess those last few years weren’t so kind to you, huh?”

Beauregard shrugged a shoulder, not denying it, but not providing details, either. “It’s been a long time since then.”

“And you’ve just been here, in this big ol’ house, for…?”

Another shrug. “I’m honestly not sure how long now. I don’t keep track of time anymore. I know I died January twenty-ninth of 1901, at exactly 10:35 p.m. Beyond that…” He pulled out a pocket watch and flashed the face of it at Jai. It had been stopped since his time of death. “Time has lost all meaning for me.”

“So, you’ve been here…”

“Yes.”

“All this time?”

“Yes.”

“You died here?”

“Yes…” Beau was trying not to show the mild annoyance growing at the questions. “What are you getting at?”

Jai suddenly pointed at him accusingly. “You’ve been here, living here, for ages, and you ain’t never tried to contact me even once? Even once!”

Taken aback, Beau sputtered, “Well, you—Who do you think sent out the message for you, hmm? Who do you think led you here?”

“But that was just now! You’ve had literal decades! Decades! Decades that I’ve spent away from the very last little bit of family I had left!” There were tears in his eyes. “If Eulie were here…”

“Eulie is here. This was her house.” Beau looked over his shoulder at the grand staircase leading to the bedrooms above. “I’m surprised she hasn’t come down to investigate the ruckus yet. Her or Dorian…”

Jai took a tiny pause for confusion. “Is that her husband?”

“No, her son.”

“I have a nephew?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And you all were livin’ in a mansion! And not one of you saw fit to find me?!” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the door.

“Now stop!” Beau bellowed. A chair cut Jai off, knocking him down into it, and it scooted back to Beau. “You disappeared!” Pointing at Jai, Beau floated above the floor. “You were the one who forsake the family! You went off to who-knows-where, while Eulalie and I were dealing with our parents’ funeral expenses, and bank possessing the house, and—” He let out a frustrated groan. Slipping back down to the floor, he slowly exhaled, and started again, in a much calmer tone. “It was like you had fallen off the face of the planet. And… And I knew you were grieving in your own way. By the time we wound up here… H-How was I supposed to find you, Jai?” Beau put a hand on his shoulder, gazing into his eyes, imploring. “When you clearly didn’t want to be found?”

Turning his head aside, Jai looked away. It was true. He hadn’t wanted to be found, not at first. But when he’d found himself deep in trouble, that’s when he’d started thinking about his family and what he’d left behind. Then… Then it was too late. Far too late. You couldn’t scream for your big brother with a mouth full of dirty handkerchief, and lungs full of river water.

Jai blinked, sending tears cascading down his cheeks. “I—I missed you, Beau. I needed you. And—And I couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t face you. Not after what I’d done. I’ve… I’ve done horrible things, Beau. I…”

“Shh,” Beau shushed him. “Do you think I’m proud of this?” He gestured to the noose. “We’ve all done regrettable things, Jai.” Gripping the arms of the chair, he leaned down. “The important thing is we’re back together, eh?” He grinned his cock-eyed grin that always seemed just a little too wide. “The Ghast boys wreaking havoc from beyond the grave!”

Jai allowed himself a small smile. “You mean it? Back together like old times?”

Beau yanked him up, and put an arm around him as he led him further into the mansion. “Not exactly. Far fewer things to worry about now. I’ll give you the tour, and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to.”

“Eh…” Jai rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a tall order.”

“Hm, we have all eternity little brother.” Beau squeezed him to his side.

#drabble #jai #fic #fanfic #short story #story #beau

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years ago

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Chapter Sixteen: The Seventh Book

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 2,803

TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE!!!!! BEWARE!!!!

A/N: thank you everyone for reading this fic i love you all. one chapter left to go. i am so sorry for what follows.

MASTERLIST

Your eyelids were so heavy it was almost impossible to open them. The chair you were in was cold and hard against your back, the discomfort prompting you to wake up a little faster.

Then your surroundings forced the memory of what had happened into your mind.

It was a dark metal room with a single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. Across the room on the wall were several closed metal hatches. Although you couldn’t make out much more. After all, your eyes were still partially closed and the dim light of the room made it even harder to see.

A small gasp next to you alerted the presence of someone else in the room.

Turning your head — with immense effort — you saw Spencer Reid slouched in the chair next to you, hands tied behind his back, slowly coming to.

“Spencer,” you said, voice quiet and strained. But he seemed to have heard judging by the way his eyes snapped wide open and he began to writhe in the chair.

Grunting harshly, he finally got his arms untied, jumping up and running toward the back of your chair and pulling off the rope, leaving your wrist burning slightly from the scratch.

Quickly analyzing the situation, Spencer firmly pressed against each of the four metal walls, ensuring that there was no way out. Then, when he was sure none of the walls would give, he started ramming his elbow against the metal slots in one of the walls.

“Spencer!” you had found your voice suddenly at the thought of him hurting himself. Strangely, you had just noticed that the two of you were only wearing your underwear. Even your bra had been put back on. Although he was wearing a watch you’d never seen before with a tight leather band that squeezed his wrist.

His gaze snapped to you, a determined look in his eye with a fire behind it that sent a spark through you.

“Where are we?”

It was a stupid question and you knew the answer, but you still had to ask. Spencer attempted to soften his expression but to no avail.

“I’m sorry.”

The words hurt on a whole new level. There was so much meaning behind them. They confirmed the fact that you had indeed been kidnapped and taken to some sort of torture chamber, they signified that he had failed to protect you, and they broke the pact you had to never apologize to one another.

There was a crackle and heavy breathing filled the room, the sound coming from a minuscule vent in one of the corners of the room.

Spencer stepped between you and the vent, reaching out a hand behind him to make sure you stayed behind him.

The breathing hesitated and after a moment, someone spoke.

“Hello, Y/N.”

The voice was so familiar. You knew you knew it but you didn’t know from where. The memory was just out of reach and it kept slipping through your fingers.

Spencer, however, had frozen, presumably recognizing the voice. Your hand moved to his shoulder of its own accord, finding the skin there to be freezing cold.

The voice from the vent chuckled.

“I understand that you and Spencer have become quite attached lately.”

You looked at him, unsure whether to respond or not. He glanced at you over his shoulder and nodded stiffly.

“Ye—ahem—yes, we have. Why?” To recognize the voice, you needed to keep him talking.

“Hmm. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go for each other.”

There was a whooshing noise and one of the four slots in the wall shot open, revealing a small hidden space.

“I’m sure if you can’t figure out what to do, Doctor Spencer Reid can help you.”

And then it clicked. And it all made sense.

How he’d found your address, “Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—” “Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee.”

How he’d known which hotel you were at, “Whatever. Gives me more time to prepare for a cute date with a hot barista. Or . . . the other way around.”

Even how he knew you were at the cabin, “I actually had a coworker who had a cabin in the woods and he never mentioned becoming one with nature.”

All because “ . . . the waiter here, Tom, works at my regular coffee shop. Barista by day, waiter by night.”

“Tom. . . .”

Spencer looked at you sorrowfully as the voice chuckled through the vent.

“Very good . . . Honestly, I’m disappointed it took you this long to figure it out. I mean, it was pretty obvious. And so easy to get so much information about you! But! But, that's beside the point. You have a task I expect you to begin. After all, time is running out.”

Spencer reached into the hole in the wall, withdrawing a stopwatch, an electric hair clipper, and a small Exacto knife.

The stopwatch had two minutes and thirteen seconds on it, counting down slowly.

“What are we supposed to do?” you yelled at the wall, holding up the timer as if he could see it. You don’t know, there might be a camera, you thought to yourself, wrapping an arm around your bare stomach.

There wasn’t a response though, just the sound of the stopwatch clicking quietly.

“Y/N . . .” Spencer spoke from behind you. “It’s the seventh book.”

Frantically trying to remember the order of the books in your nightstand, you realized what the clippers and knife meant.

The Handmaid’s Tale, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Telltale Heart, The Great Gatsby, 1984, A Clockwork Orange, and . . .

The seventh book was a very old and very rare edition of The Gift of The Magi.

“So we have to choose . . .”

The watchband on Spencer’s wrist was too tight to slip the knife through without cutting through his skin. And your hair would take much longer than two minutes to cut with a knife and clippers.

Without a word, Spencer took the exact-o knife and plunged it into the skin around his wrist, wincing in pain as he cut through the band.

“Spencer, no!”

But the watch fell from his hand to the floor, dripping with blood, Spencer’s wrist sliced open neatly. The wound was superficial but it looked like it hurt. He collapsed to the floor, dropping the knife and you rushed to his side.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded weakly, putting pressure on the cut.

“Very interesting . . .” Tom’s voice echoed around the room and you felt your stomach fill with rage like never before, spinning around and throwing the clippers at the wall with all of your might.

“We’re not going to play your fucking mind game!”

“Y/N,” Spencer whispered from the floor. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

The answer to your question came in the form of an ear-splitting siren, the noise resonating around the room, forcing its way past your eardrums, giving you an abominable headache.

The noise suddenly stopped and Tom spoke again.

“It is your choice whether you play or not. But consider that a preview of the punishment for refusing to. And trust me, there’s worse punishments than that.”

The second hatch slid open.

Head darting between it and Spencer on the floor, holding his wrist, you opted to fetch the next items.

There was another stopwatch, this time with five minutes, two small slips of paper, and some kind of device transmitting footage of two people in a poorly lit room, strapped to chairs similar to how you had been moments ago.

“What the fuck is this?”

The light in the room came on, showing the people in the chairs to be a man and a woman. You didn’t recognize either of them, and, judging by his face, neither did Spencer.

“Oh no.”

You read the slips of paper.

Man and Woman, they said.

We have to choose one.

“We have to choose one.”

Spencer looked at you shaking his head, so overwhelmed by the fact that the two of you were in this situation.

You scrambled, unable to deal with the thought, “What if we—“

“—I’m sure the punishment will be worse if we don't choose one. Most likely, he’ll kill both of them. Statistically, men die younger than women and they can’t bear children. But women have a higher pain tolerance and—“

He was talking himself in circles, trying desperately to come up with a solution to an impossible problem.

“Spencer, this is something you can’t reason. We just have to pick one.”

You couldn’t believe he was only twenty-six. His eyes bore the weight of someone much older.

You forced a weak laugh that tasted terrible on your tongue, “Eenie Meenie Miney-Moe?”

He chuckled weakly. “No luck, I know you land on whichever one you didn’t start with.”

“Me too.”

“Time’s running out,” Tom reminded you.

Your face fell, all hints of a smile gone.

“The man.” You gaped at Spencer who had piped up just enough to make the decision.

There was a pause, then a dark figure walked into the room onscreen, brandishing a gun and aiming at the back of the man’s head.

The muffled sound of a gunshot rang out, making you and Spencer jump as the man went limp in the chair and the feed cut out.

Bile rose in your throat and you ran to a corner of the room to throw up.

“Very interesting,” Tom repeated, his voice sparking disgust deep in your stomach.

“Why are you doing this?” you begged, reaching out for Spencer who seemed to be doing a bit better judging by the fact he could now stand and his wrist was no longer gushing blood.

“I like watching the way you think.”

The now-familiar sound of the hatch opening brought you back to the situation at hand, trying desperately to get the image from the screen out of your mind.

Spencer reached into the hatch and pulled out two more slips of paper and another stopwatch.

The screen flicked back on, showing two more people in a dark room, another man and woman. The room was still dark so you couldn't make out much more.

You looked up at Spencer, confused, but his face had gone white as a sheet and he was staring at the pieces of paper.

“No.” Spencer ran to the vent, slamming on the wall. “No! Ahh!” shouting in pain when his wound made contact.

Tom didn’t say anything so you approached Spencer, snatching the pieces of paper to better understand why he was so angry.

The room on the screen lit up the moment you read the papers. This time it didn’t say man or woman. This time there were two names.

Steve and J.J.

Spencer’s blonde coworker and your closest friend were slumped over in the chairs on-screen, wriggling against their restraints. All breath left your body, your heart stopped in your chest.

“TOM! Please don’t do this.”

The desperation seeped into your voice pitifully.

“Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Y/N,” Spencer stepped between you and the vent again, holding your shoulders. You suddenly felt how wet your eyes were. Strange how you hadn’t even realized you were crying.

“I . . . I can’t.”

Being forced to decide who lives and who dies was difficult enough to break anyone’s spirit. But this . . . this shattered yours to the core.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer said, “I can do it.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tom chided playfully, voice muffled through the speaker. “You’ve already chosen twice, Doctor. I think it’s Y/N’s turn, don’t you?”

“Look, I can make the decision. You don’t want to put her through too much, do you?” Spencer’s voice was soft, but the way he was gripping your hand suggested he felt otherwise. “You wouldn’t do that to her.”

“I suppose you’re right. Though, while I do care for her, it is her turn. But don’t fret! You can make the next decision together.”

Your eyes were locked on the screen, watching as Steve and J.J. came to, becoming rapidly aware of their situation and struggling against the bindings. Spencer gently squeezed your hand, showing you the time on the stopwatch. Fifty seconds left.

There was no right decision.

J.J. had a child, a husband, a family. Steve had no one. Steve had you.

There was no right decision. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a wrong one.

“Steve.” You hadn’t said it out loud, just mouthed the word letting the breath flow out of you.

Then, realizing he couldn’t hear you, you repeated yourself.

“Steve.” It was barely a whisper but it was the loudest sound in the world.

Actually, strike that, the loudest sounds were the footsteps entering the room and standing behind your friend, holding a gun to his head.

Tom’s voice came back over the intercom.

“I need you to say it.”

It took every ounce of strength not to fall to the ground and burst into tears. The only thing keeping you upright was fear. Pure terror. You couldn’t say it, but if you didn’t they’d both die.

“Kill Steve.”

You closed your eyes before the gunshot went off, knees giving out and collapsing to the ground, feeling Spencer fall with you, trying to keep you as upright as possible.

“Hey,” he grabbed your head, forcing your gaze to him, his dark brown eyes dark with rage. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Tom’s voice made your stomach contort.

The fourth and final hatch slid open.

“I can’t . . . I can’t . . .” your hands were trembling harder than your voice as you shook back and forth, clutching your legs to your chest.

“Okay, it’s okay. It’s almost over,” Spencer said, standing and reaching into the last slot.

He didn’t move for a while, back turned to you, looking down at something.

“Spencer?”

“Me, I choose me,” he said, turning towards the vent, revealing the item he was holding. A gun. His gun.

“No!”

“Very well,” Tom said, chuckling. “But that’s not quite how this works. One of you has to die, but the other has to do it.”

Spencer ran and sat next to you on the floor, forcing the gun into your hands, lightly placing your finger on the trigger.

“Spencer . . .”

“Listen to me, it’s okay. Okay? If we don’t do this, he’s gonna kill us both. I need you to understand that I am okay with this. I am choosing this, not you. This is for me to decide.”

He slowly brought the gun up to his head, resting just between his eyebrows.

That was too much and the sobs that had been building up in your chest escaped your lips, tears pouring down your cheeks and falling onto your legs. Your hands trembled harder, the gun shaking against his head.

“Y/N,” he smiled, eyes bright and twinkling. “It’s okay.” Then, he swallowed, looked away for a moment, then looked back at you with fire burning deep behind his eyes. What he said next changed your life.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You sobbed as he cocked the gun and steadied your finger on the trigger.

“I love you, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. You didn’t even have to think before you did what you did next.

You removed the gun from his head, held it against your own, right on your temple, and stood, turning toward the vent.

“5 . . .”

“Wait!” Tom called out.

“4 . . .”

“Y/N, stop!” Spencer shouted at you.

“3 . . .”

“That’s not how this works!” Tom yelled furiously, voice cracking. “Stop! You have to shoot him!”

“2 . . .”

The wall under the vent slid open and a dark figure stumbled in, holding out a blunt object, approaching you threateningly, rearing back.

The instant you saw the whites of Tom’s eyes, you aimed the gun directly between his eyes and squeezed the trigger, attempting to keep your arm as still as possible. In a flash, you were brought back to the alley where you shot a gun for the first time. All you could think of were your and Spencer’s lips meeting for the first time.

You didn’t realize you’d closed your eyes until you opened them and was met with the image of Tom The Barista with a bloody hole in his head, falling backwards to the floor, crumpling like a rag doll, a blank expression on his face.

Taking one last look at Spencer to make sure he was okay, you felt your legs give out beneath you and you fell to the floor, losing consciousness.

Again, everything went dark.

last chapter tomorrow. i am so sorry. bring tissues.

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13 @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao @perverted-guardian-angel @boiled-onionrings @rainsong01 @lesbian-emilyprentiss @andiebeaword @itsmoony @cielo1984 @baby-i-am-fireproof @mendesminimuffin @fukyouthink @addie5264 @gretaamyk @sercyan @expressiodeppresio @matthewreid

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fic #fanfic #fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #angst #only angst #graphic depictions of violence #blood #potentially triggering

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twilitty · 4 years ago

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper #the twilight saga #carlisle #twilight saga #smeyer #2008 #twilight renaissance #bella/jacob #jacob/bella #jacobxbella #bellaxjacob #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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unreadpoppy · 3 years ago

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when I realize I read the censored version of Dorian Gray and now I gotta read it again and go through Lord Henry’s bullshit again: 🤡🤡🤡

#the picture of dorian gray

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thereadingchallengechallenge · 4 years ago

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10 Questions tag

Ooh thanks for the tag @storytime-reviews - I haven’t done this one in ages :D

Questions:

What is your favourite genre and why? Probably fantasy? I stray from it occasionally but I always end up coming back to it. I love discovering new worlds and, with speculative fiction becoming more diverse, I love seeing how modern identities fit into and/or subvert traditional archetypes.

How did you get into booklr? Y’know, it’s been so long that I literally can’t remember 😅 I think I was just looking for book recommendations so started following different people and then slowly got more and more sucked in lol

Can you remember the first novel you read, and what you loved about it? Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. I loved it, and I still have fond memories of it, but I’ve really fallen out of love with HP since JKR revealed her bigotry.

Who are some of your favourite children’s authors? Jill Murphy, who writes The Worst Witch books. Neil Gaiman, who truly excels at writing for kids tbh. Chris Colfer, who despite topping the NYT bestsellers with each book never seems to get much recognition. Enid Blyton, who I’ve got an inkling to reread. and I haven’t read her books but I ordered some by Mary Norton the other day and I think I’m going to love them (since I love the movies lol).

What are some classics you love and ones you hate? I loooove The Haunting of Hill House, The Great Gatsby, The Picture of Dorian Gray and Mrs Dalloway. I can’t stand reading George Orwell, Jane Austen or Ernest Hemingway but, like, I get why they’re important.

What is your favourite read of the year so far? Peta Lyre’s Rating Normal by Anna Whateley is right up there atm

Do you read/write fanfiction? Not as much as I used to. No, I’m not linking it 😉

What are your reading goals for the rest of the year? And next year? This year I really just wanna keep reading. Our lockdown just keeps getting extended and it’s butchering my mental health so I’ve just gotta go gently. But I discovered the brilliance of audiobooks so that should make it easier! I have no clue what I wanna do next year reading-wise – maybe do more rereads?

Are there some book to film/tv adaptations you love? And why? I tend to love most adaptations - I’m very resilient to crappy ones, I just feel like they’re their own animal and will attract more people to the book in the end so whatever. but my favourite adaptations are probably: - the A Series of Unfortunate Events Netflix series, for getting the tone *just* right - the Perks of Being a Wallflower movie, for the emotional accuracy - the A Wrinkle In Time movie, for the girls in sci-fi and STEM rep

Is there a book that lots of people rec that you just instinctively know you would hate to read? oh gosh, I haven’t thought about that kind of thing for a while. what are even the popular books at the moment 🤣 I know I’ll never pick up another SJM book again but that’s all I can think of atm lol

My Questions:

Standalones or series?

What was the last book you added to your TBR?

What makes you DNF a book?

What kinds of diversity do you want to see more of in books?

What genre do you read the most of?

Is there a genre you want to try but need some recommendations for?

Have you got enough shelf space?

On your shelves, do you keep your TBR separate or mixed in with the books you’ve read?

Who’s your newest favourite character?

Recommend a book!

Tagging: @lettercollectors @kirawarner @backlogbooks @lizziethereader and anyone else who wants to join in!

#tag games #set your raygun to queue

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ghostnoms · 5 years ago

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Tagged by my fav @yaboylevi :) 💖

Rules: tag 9 people you would like to get to know better

Top 3 ships:

i will ALWAYS have to say ereri (eren x levi, attack on titan). they have such a very special place in my heart as characters, both together and seperately. i love them genuinely with my entire heart. they were my first ship and since the first day i watched attack on titan i knew i would never stop loving them.

right now i gotta say CATRADORA!!! (catra x adora, she ra &pop). i love love love their dynamic and backstory, such a win for the gays in the recent season. they’re so interesting and adorable and im so proud of she ra for them. no spoilers pls i havent finished the season yet!!

finally hm.... there are a lot of others! it takes a lot for a ship to really capture my heart like the above, but i’ll say either victuuri (yuri!!! on ice), once upon a time klance was very important to me (vld: a series in disappointment), and bubbline (adventure time) or yumihisu (attack on titan -again)!! a soft spot for levihan and eremin too

Last movie you watched: just like the person who tagged me haha it was The Half of It! i really really liked it its on netflix go stream!!!

Reading: I just finished pride and prejudice, and now i’m reading the picture of dorian gray! (im not pretentious i promise lol). also the ereri fic untouched by shittyfoureyes on ao3! go check it out plsss its so good:

What food are you craving rn?: pancakes always every single day

Tagging: don’t feel pressured if you dont want to! im just letting u know i consider us/want us to be pals :) @himbo-ification @levi-addict25 @flamoria @garous-nipple @nikuttek @ackernerd @aph-vella @zerozaki-zen-writes and whoever else wants to do it!!

#numbles #my post #tagged

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years ago

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By the Book: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (Bookstore/Coffee Shop AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You love to get lost in the worlds created when you read. You go to this bookstore/coffee shop nearly every day. You come for the books, but after a new employee shows up, you find yourself more intrigued by him rather than words on a page.

A/N: This is for @caitfairwrites since she’s one of the winners for my writing challenge. This will be a mini series of 3 parts, so no tagging. Sorry!

You’re walking up the sidewalk towards the shop. Your weekly book is held against your chest like its your baby, trying to protect it from any harm. You halt in the doorway as it swings open, nearly hitting you in the face.

The two young women stepping out mutter an apology and go right back to their conversation, “That new barista is so hot. He could open me up like a book!” one women expressed and the other giggled.

You scrunch your face up in distaste, not liking how their apology was so insincere, but that’s New York for ya!

You walk in and you’re immediately hit with the smell of home once more. You rush over to your corner, happy that it’s not taken up, and set your things down. You ruffle through your bag for money and you’re on your way to the cashier.

You notice at an instant that it isn’t Steve manning the counter, but someone else. A guy with shoulder length, chestnut brown hair, stubble decorating his face, and striking blue eyes. Perhaps this was the barista the women were talking about. He was very easy on the eyes.

When it was your turn, you smile at the man, “You’re new.”

He softly smiles back, “You one of Steve’s regulars?”

You nod, “Yeah, I’m Y/N. You’ll be seeing a lot of me,” you chuckle, “I usually sit back there reading,” you point to your little area.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m James, but I prefer if you call me Bucky.”

You proceed to give Bucky your usual order, reassuring him that it’s alright if he takes his time since he’s still trying to figure the system out.

“So that’ll be $4.45, please.” you hand him a five dollar bill and with the change, you drop into the tip jar.

“It was nice meeting you, Bucky. I hope Steve and this place treats you well!” you smile at him and then make your way back to your corner to read while you wait for your order.

__________________________

For the next couple of hours, you tried to pay as much attention to your book as possible. But no matter how hard you tried, the words weren’t sticking to your head. Your escape to a new world wasn’t going so well. Why? Because of Bucky the new barista.

Sure, the guy looked a little rough around the edges, and during your couple hours of stay there, you made idle chat with him every once in a while. You found out that he’s best friends with Steve and that he’s a veteran. You also noticed his silver prosthetic that he was trying to hard to hide. You figured that maybe he felt ashamed about it.

“I, uh,” you look up from your book to see Bucky standing there with a new mug in hand, “I noticed earlier that you were running low and thought you’d like a refill?”

“Oh!” you dog eared your page and set it down, “That’s really nice, Bucky. Thanks. How much-”

“On the house and don’t worry, Steve won’t get mad. I asked if it was okay and he said since you’re his favorite customer, a free cup won’t do any harm,” he sheepishly grins at you and it warms your heart to see this rugged looking man look so shy.

“Well thank you, again. Are you on break now?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Was just gonna sit somewhere and relax a bit.”

“Would you like to join me?” you pat the windowsill bench.

“No no, it’s okay. I don’t wanna interrupt your reading.”

You shrugged, “You won’t. I, uh, can’t really focus on reading right now. Got a lot on my mind.”

Bucky slowly lowers himself onto the bench beside you, his hands resting in his lap, “I know how that feels. Sometimes I got so much going on in here,” he points to his temple, “that I feel like my head will explode.”

“Stuff in general or stuff concerning when you were in the army?” Bucky looks at you with furrowed brows and you immediately shake your head, “Wait, don’t-I-crap. You don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t even know me and I don’t know you and sometimes I speak before I think and it gets me in trouble way too much and you seem like such a nice guy and I don’t want you to hate me because I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut and now I’m rambling and you probably think-”

Bucky’s shoulders start to shake as he laughs, causing you to stop mid-ramble. Your eyes soften and there’s a faint smile on your lips. He looks at you and bites his lip to maintain himself, “You’re-You’re cute when you ramble.”

You duck your head, shying away from the compliment,”Thanks, but I mean it, you don’t have to answer my question or tell me anything personal even. We can talk about...books! Do you read?”

“Haven’t in a while. I think the last book I read was when I was deployed. A Marine I ran into, Russo, let me borrow it. I honestly don’t know if I ever finished it.”

“What was the book called?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“One of my favorites,” you can’t help but mumble.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks as his eyes capture your lit up ones.

“The idea that obsession with youth, wealth, and beautiful things will consume us? It’s fascinating. I really like how Oscar Wilde paints a picture with his words about aestheticism, how we’re not anything valuable unless we’re beautiful or surround ourselves with beautiful things. It’s sad really.”

“How so?”

“Those ideals still stick with us today. Sure we don’t have chandeliers and drink from golden chalices, but if you don’t have the new iPhone or you don’t stick with the latest clothing trends, then you’re nothing.” you shake your head and laugh to yourself, “Sorry, I, uh, I’ve read that book way too many times and it’s just-”

“Don’t apologize for sharing your passions.” he looks at you with this soft yet intense look, one that you’re intimidated by, but you can’t seem to look away. It isn’t until Steve calls for him behind the counter that his entrancing gaze breaks, “Sorry, I, uh, gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah. Um, enjoy the rest of your shift.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Enjoy your book.”

You watch as Bucky heads back to the counter, grabbing his apron off the hook and putting it back on. He glances your way one last time, a grin on his face as he gets back to work.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #au #coffee shop au #bookstore au #lanis2ndmysteriouswritingchallenge

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always-evergreen · 4 years ago

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jasmine, primrose, gardenia, lions fairytale, lily of the valley, desert rose, creams and sky, tulip, daphne, wisteria, angels face, iris, caramel kisses, primula, queen anne's lace, forget me not, lunaria, sunflower, snowdrop, peonie, tea rose, sweet pea, love in the mist, crown imperial, cosmos, moon flower, lily, anemone, lotus, buttercup, calendula, blazing star, carnation, petunia, and morning glory 💐🌸💮🌹🌺🌻🌼🌷

whew this is a lot!! thanks for asking! ill put this under a read more so I dont clog up everyones dash

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed? - my favourite was always griffins but I feel like theyd be kinda terrifying so im gonna go w mermaids!!

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read? - not really a specific book but I think people just need to read more old timey books where literally nothing happens to calm us all down a little

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself? - I dont make promises to myself bc I know me too well and that bitch is a liar

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests? - this is actually a really cool question! I feel like the sky would be kinda lonely whereas the ocean and forests are full of life..... im gonna go forest just bc its a little less scary than the ocean lol

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? - cant say anyones ever actually hurt me that badly lol

desert rose; do you like yourself? - eh sure. could be improved upon but could be a whole lot worse!!

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done? - its not crazy but the bravest thing ive done is probably move away from home for university...and then drop out of two separate higher education courses lmfao

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself. - 1. im 5′6″. 2. ive dyed my hair 10 times. 3. im the middle of 3 siblings. 4. my biggest fear is someone breaking into my house. 5. my favourite animals are turtles!

daphne; do you believe in karma? - mmm not really... I dont not believe in it tho

wisteria; whom do you admire and why? - can I be honest w u guys? ive never had a role model in my life. never once have I looked at someone and been like ‘wow ur so cool and admirable I want to be like u’ like I just dont “admire” people idk:/

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child? - I really loved on Christmas eve when my dad would read us all the night before Christmas and the miracle of Jonathan Toomey... even when I got older and he was really just reading to my sister id still listen in lol

iris; do you believe in ghosts? - hell yeah!

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not? - maybe so that I could really see the whole world and travel everywhere and experience everything these different places have to offer but probably not bc once all my friends and family died itd be really lonely... if there were other immortals then possibly

primula; what makes you sad? - my cats getting quite old so its really upsetting to think that in a few years hes gonna die

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most? - my bitch haide<3

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life? - yeah of course what kind of sociopath doesn't have regrets!!

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe? - middle earth

sunflower; share a favorite quote. - “Don’t die wondering.” - The Way Way Back

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like? - sleep till noon, lie in bed watching movies all day, walk the dog, large bowl of pasta for dinner, more movies

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you. - “He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.” - The Book Thief, Markus Zuzak… that's always been one of my favourite books and rudys one of my all time favourite characters and this was the first time I had ever cried reading a book... fun fact ive actually only read this book twice bc I dont have the emotional strength to go through this scene again

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared? - I honestly cant think of anything atm...

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why? - my friends, my pets, my dad, jesse pinkman

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read? - gotta say the book thief lol uhh fahrenheit 451, pretty much anything by ray Bradbury actually, to kill a mockingbird, the secret life of bees, lotr, his dark materials, little women, dorian gray, the shadow of the wind series

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved? - id like to have money obviously but id rather be loved than super rich

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy? - cant say that I do

moonflower; what’s your favorite color? - pink! and blue and yellow

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do? - I gave up being embarrassed about my interests years ago, theres no time for feeling bad about stuff u enjoy in life

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words. - baddest bitch alive. nah jk ummm quiet, curious, daydreamer

lotus; best memory as a child? - I have such a bad memory so I dont actually remember a lot of my childhood but ill say just in general the time spent at my grans during the summer holidays, especially if our cousins were also visiting. that was a lot of fun

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be? - redistribute the wealth of the super rich, thereby contributing to ending poverty, hunger and homelessness across the world

calendula; biggest pet peeve? - slow walkers, people who chew with their mouths open

blazing star; share a secret. - I dont really have secrets lmao nothing that interesting ever happens to me

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier? - happier

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why? - again I dont look up to people and I am inspired by no one

morning glory; any special talent that you have? - I dont even have any normal talents let alone special ones lol

thanks for asking! hope this was interesting xx

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historyrepeatsitself · 5 years ago

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modern au headcanons p2

hey guys, so after uhh everything crashed and burned as u can see from this post, i did not follow thru in good time with writing a modern au headcanon post… BUT!!! fortunately, i have returned from my semi hiatus to bring you… inspired by this OG post… httyd modern au headcanons part 2!!!

also sorry for the weird bullet points, i did this in microsoft word so the entire thing wouldnt fucKING DELETE AGAIN

· so like i said with the last one, cami is obviously internet famous for her ridiculously cool youtube channel

· shes also quite popular on insta but youtube is more her jam

· her fame started when a video of her pickpocketing stoick and them him finding out and absolutely Losing It went viral

· it was a vine

· you can hear hiccup laughing in the background

· her videos used to mainly feature pranks she did but since then shes branched out

· she still does a lot of pranks but now her videos also include: parkour, absolutely HORRIBLE karaoke (ft. hiccup and fishlegs), Q&A, playing with toothless for an hour and thirty minutes (yes, it did get a lot of views ((also toothless is a cat in this au))), roast battle vs snotlout (spoiler: snotlout cries), “a compilation of hiccup doing nerdy shit and me calling him a nerd (8 min, 30 sec)”, “reading yalls fanfiction abt me (fishlegs has an asthma attack)”, videos of her doing sports, & more

· like in the original hiccup and fishlegs have their own channel

· its literally shit

· they update it only on lethal amounts of caffeine

· its usually VERY active during finals week (hence their not great grades)

· it puts shane dawson to shame

· “NOT CLICKBATE: OBAMA IS FROM THE MOON????”

· “NEIL A IS ALIEN SPELLED BACKWARDS??? DID ARMSTRONG USE THE MOON AS A WAY TO FUEL UP BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO HIS COLONY ON MARS??”

· “MY CAT IS NOT FROM EARTH (VIDEO INCLUDED!!!!)”

· “got rejected again…. </3”

· “video of fishlegs on sugar high after i gave him a bunch of candy bc he wouldn’t stop crying”

· “kids from our school found us” (during the whole video theyre panicking while wearing wigs and fake mustaches)

· needless to say its very confusing when someone connects that those guys are also on cami’s channel

· shes pissed but comes around and they regularly star on her channel while she regularly stars on theirs

· hiccup also has his own side channel where he explains different animal species (natural history stuff) and also does various language tutorials

· fishlegs reads poetry and sings on his side channel

· cami has a video where she reacts to hiccup’s channel, he actually gained a lot of followers from it

· hiccup and fishlegs go to the same school while cami goes to an all girls school across town

· she actually doesn’t hate it

· hiccup and fishlegs are public school kids

· that public school vibe

· kids from their school are so confused how they know cami and rly jealous

· cami once stopped by after school (her school gets out a little earlier) and punched a bully for them

· it was iconic

· she smacked him right in the face and hauled hiccup’s ass up and dragged them both in the car

· cami is pretty popular at her school

· hiccup and fishlegs are NOT

· theyre honestly a bit like peter and ned from spiderman

· gotta love that lego deathstar

· cami does not like legos

· both hiccup and fishlegs are smart but don’t put in a lot of effort

· fishlegs excels at English and hiccup is good at science classes (esp bio) and history

· fishlegs is ok at history but finds some of it a little boring

· they HATE gym

· theyre both shocked to find that cami (a dumbassTM) is actually a straight A student

· shes super competitive so she actually does super well and gets rly rly good grades and all her teachers love her

· she didn’t for awhile bc she has ADHD for school was HARD but shes gotten a lot better and got tutors and study methods and also shes just super competitive

· she was on math team in middle school and hiccup wont SHUt Up about IT

· “hey theres my favorite student mathlete!!!!!”

· fishlegs doesn’t even try and help him anymore, he does this to himself

· fishlegs wins English awards every year

· he also got a 36 on his English ACT hes just SO GOOD

· hes also a theatre kid lmao

· he does shakespearean theatre on top of his school theatre too

· “to be or not To Be”

· Hiccups not a huge English fan and he doesn’t rly like Shakespeare but he does rly like Oscar wilde

· Dorian gray is the Shit

· Fishlegs was so happy when he read it bc they could finally talk about LiTeRaRy ClAsSiCs!!!

· the trio met bc hiccup and cami’s parents own rival business companies

· both stoick and bertha are very Rich and Important

· hiccup and cami sometimes have to go to business dinners

· they fuck around

· that’s how they met

· hiccup bumped into cami replacing the soap in the hand dispenser in the men’s room with silly string

· he thought she was the coolest person ever

· she tried to fight him at first but they quickly united against the Evil Boring Dinners With Stupid Old Men

· they locked this one old racist dude in a bathroom stall once and sent fishlegs a video

· truly forces of chaos

· the forces of chaos were unfortunately grounded for that tho

· stoick is very busy and valhallarama travels a lot so they hang out at hiccup’s bc its usually empty (cami’s house is also kinda far)

· cami’s parents are divorced but her dad stops by occasionally

· fishlegs has a foster family and that’s how he wound up meeting hiccup was when he moved to be with his new family when they were in second grade

· hes rly grateful that hes been able to stay with them for a long ass time

· theyre actually pretty nice

· hiccup gets to come over for dinner

· snotlout is hiccup’s bitchy cousin whos a grade ahead of hiccup and fishlegs

· he eventually becomes nicer to them at the beginning of sophomore year

· some bad stuff happens (might write an angst fanfic idk lemme know (itll prolly be hiccup centric))

· basically, snotlout kinda realizes hes been a bitch

· hes sorry

· things get better

· until yknow

· gotta keep things sad cant get rid of all the emo

· but anyway snotlout does wind up becoming a good friend to the trio!! <3

· oh lmao when valhallarama came home for Christmas she thought hiccup was either dating cami or fishlegs and she didn’t know which one bc hiccup was so shy she just figured he was dating one of them and just didn’t tell her (theyre all like super close yknow)

· after seeing hiccup and cami holding hands (a RARE moment, it was bc they thought it would annoy snotlout bc he hates cami (it did)) she assumed it was cami

· she brought it up

· LMFAOOOO hiccup laughed for like 10 minutes

· She then immediately was like oh ok ur gay and its fishlegs

· that was even funnier

· “mom fishlegs is weird lmao” (he and fishlegs probably friendly roast each other a lot tbh. they definitely call each other “weirdo” “freak” “nerd” other possibly explicit words, its chill)

· Valhallarama is so confused

· she didn’t say it but “child u literally told me that u thought ur little cat that’s missing teeth is prolly from area 51, ur the weird one son”

· she asks stoick

· hes just as confused

· she drops the whole topic

· it has yet to occur to bertha

· fishlegs’ family is good as long as hes good theyre chill like that

· oh and cami’s school has uniforms

· yes, she does have to wear a skirt

· yes, several of them were shredded freshman year

· bertha is So Tired

#httyd #httyd books #httyd headcanon #httyd book headcanon #modern au #httyd book au #httyd au #httyd modern au p2 #hiccup #camicazi #fishlegs #toothless #stoick #big bertha #valhallarama

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