#i knew she’s been sick this week but she didn’t rapid test until today

[gotyouanyway]

just found out my mom has covid :(

[yellowocaballero]

Not Your Queer-Coded Disney Villain: Annabelle & Web!Jon Ficlet

Got bored again today and forced myself to write something that wasn’t gratuitously long. Set in the same universe (or, one of the universes) as The Convention on Chronographer Lane, but it’s completely unnecessary to have read that one before this. 

Content warning for (apparent and fake) predation of a student by a teacher, body horror, and spiders. REVERSE content warning for A PSYCH 101 LECTURE WRITTEN BY SOMEONE WHO WAS A TA FOR PSYCH 101. ACCURATE SCIENCE, BITCHES. 

“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”

Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”

“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”

“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”

In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…

Annabelle was sleeping through Psych again.

In her defense, she was really tired. The nightmares had been getting worse every day, and yesterday she hadn’t gotten more than forty minutes of sleep without jolting up in the middle of the night. She had flipped on the light five times during the night, hysterically convinced that bugs were crawling over her and earning the eternal ire of her roommate. Whatever - Irene would forgive her once she bought her an iced coffee from that campus shop she liked. If Annabelle gave it to her later at night, she’d stay up later and would be less likely to bitch when Annabelle inevitably made a stink at three am again.

It didn’t matter. Psych was tediously easy anyway. Not that everything wasn’t tedious, but there were few things more boring than listening to the drone of Mr. Sims’ voice. She had no idea how that guy had a fanclub. Emmanuela Odugawa had asked her if she thought that he recited Piaget’s developmental stages in bed. Barf. 

Thankfully, Annabelle had mastered the art of sleeping with her eyes open in class and barely aware enough to recognize when somebody called her name a decade ago, and she ruthlessly used this skill now. She dropped into a half-doze, and was only startled into awareness when she heard the word that had been running in a nonstop track loop through her mind for the past month. 

“Phobia: an extreme or irrational fear or aversion to something.” Mr. Sims adjusted his glasses, pressing a button on his laptop that advanced the slides. “It’s an interesting definition, in my opinion. Like many things in Psychology, it is almost infuriatingly vague. How do you define ‘extreme’? How do you define ‘irrational’? Oftentimes, that label is determined by society, science, and our therapists. However, I believe you can argue that phobias are the most rational thing of all.”

Annabelle rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. These auditorium classrooms were always freezing. 

“The concept of aversion is heavily rooted in evolution and biology. Anyone here ever eat any bad shrimp?” He didn’t wait for a response. “The smell of seafood probably made you sick for weeks afterwards. Our bodies are primed to detect poison, just as they are to detect danger. Phobias rooted in modern, abstract concepts - clowns, elevators, airplanes - are easy to extinguish. But phobias rooted in real, present, perpetual dangers, the sort of dangers that threatened the lives of cavemen, are far more difficult to ignore.” 

Despite herself, Annabelle found herself awake. She found herself listening. 

“Snakes. Heights. The Dark. Dogs, bears, large animals. Storms, driving, insects.” Mr. Sims’ looked up at the auditorium, and Annabelle could have sworn that he was looking right at her, he was looking at her. Annabelle’s breath caught, her heart thumping in her chest - a little differently than it used to. “Spiders.” 

A horrible clicking echoed in Annabell’s ears. She was afraid that it was her. 

Then he looked away, and the spell was broken. “Phobias are one of the most powerful and motivational forces in human evolution. Like mental illnesses, pack bonds, and emotional needs, the perceived weaknesses of the human mind can frequently be some of the most powerful forces that allow the survival of the human species. It isn’t a bug, it’s a feature. I find that a useful way to think of humanity, and of ourselves: that our weaknesses can make us very strong indeed. Next slide…”

If Mr. Sims said anything after that, Annabelle didn’t hear it.

She didn’t pay any attention to anything he said until the end of class, when she shrugged on her cute little silver backpack and merged into the stream of students filtering out of the classroom. A few students had stayed behind to talk to Mr. Sims, and he appeared wrapped in conversation with the giggling girls, but somehow he picked her out of the thick crowd. 

“Annabelle?” Mr. Sims asked. “Stay after, please.”

So she leaned against the long sweep of desks, left with nothing to do but squint at Mr. Sims as he spoke with another student about the requirements for the upcoming paper, wondering why he looked so familiar. 

All of the other students had assumed he was in his late twenties - “total DILF”, they all inanely assured her - but Annabelle wasn’t so sure. Despite the already graying hair, small glasses, and severe expression, she really wouldn’t put him any older than 23.

Maybe his greying temples were hair dye. Or stress did that to you, right? Annabelle squinted. But when Annabelle looked closer, if she really focused, then she really wasn’t sure it was his hair color at all. 

So she looked closer. Her eyes had been itching for the past week. She had caught her skin flaking and peeling, and instead of pink raw skin underneath there was hard and scratchy black necrosis. Her eyes itched now, as if they were striving to split apart, and if Annabelle only let them then they would burst. And as her eyes itched in a horrible, visceral pain, she thought that maybe the white at Mr. Sims’ temples was the thin, sticky webs of spider-silk. 

“Annabelle? Are you alright?”

She snapped back to attention, fairly embarrassed. She had been zoning out more in the past month than she had her entire life. Her older siblings had said that college would be rough, but she hadn’t known it would be this rough. This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her. 

“I’m great,” Annabelle said reflexively. All of the other students were gone, and Mr. Sims was staring at her over his glasses. “Sorry. Is this about my test…?”

“No. You did quite well on your test. Best in the class, actually.” Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if this was a compliment or important. “Is that why you’ve been so bored in class?”

Ah. Busted. A rare thing for Annabelle. She affected a faux-abashed posture and expression. “Sorry, Mr. Sims. I’ve been staying up ‘til two every morning trying to get my homework done on time. If I’m ever going to go to med school…”

“I thought you were a poli sci major,” Mr. Sims said cheerfully. Annabelle fought a shudder - how did he know so much about her? This class had 200 students.

“Double major,” Annabelle said blithely. “I’m sorry about sleeping in class, I’ll manage my time better. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, yes.” Mr. Sims waved her apology away, as if that wasn’t what he had been looking for. Then what had he been looking for? “I’m afraid I had somewhat of an ulterior motive for speaking to you today.” He leaned in a little, pulling his glasses down, and his foggy grey eyes - same color as the grey at his temples - focused solely on her. Annabelle made her eyes bigger, and she leaned in too, adjusting her posture so she looked smaller. “You’ve been doing very well in class. I actually wanted to invite you to a meeting. About...oh, your potential for med school. I’m excited to see you succeed. I think you could do quite well in whatever field you choose, and I’d like to help. It would be just us, of course.”

Ding ding ding. Annabelle affected a giggle. “I could totally use the help! Like, in your office? Or, like...lunch, or…?”

“I was thinking dinner, actually,” Mr. Sims smiled. “How’s Bombay Bicycle Club?”

Restaurant and bar, with a casual yet dignified atmosphere. Not formal enough to put up anybody’s guard, but nice enough that a freshman girl could feel treated and be impressed. Most importantly, it was popular among the businessman crowd and almost nobody on campus visited it. Annabelle used it herself to meet up with her sugar daddies all the time. 

For a brief, strange moment, Annabelle felt as if he did - but of course he didn’t. But it wasn’t impossible. But if he knew, then why wasn’t he blackmailing her? Was the blackmail for later, once he got her alone? This was probably a power play, getting her off balance by insinuating that he knows but not being explicit about it. He’d probably pull out the blackmail, ‘I’ll ruin your reputation you slut etc’, once they actually got there. Not that he could - Annabelle had contingency plans - but she would have to be careful to actually record him propositioning her anyway. Worst case scenario they had a MAD situation, best case she could squeeze him. Probably not for very much money, since grad students were poor as dirt, and she didn’t exactly need him to boost her grades...get him to slip her the test key and sell the test key? That could work. She could probably get him to strategically cut grades, which was a service that Annabelle could probably sell to students with a grudge…

But then Mr. Sims smiled at her, as if he knew what she was thinking, and Annabelle realized that she had been silent too long. She wanted to come off as panicked, maybe desperate, definitely flattered. 

“Sure!” Annabelle said, barely having to feign the anxious creak in her voice. “What time? I have night classes, so…”

“Next Friday at six,” Mr. Sims said instantly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” Annabelle affected Smile #35 - shy virgin. Mr. Sims’ grin widened. Annabelle silently put aside the ‘Catholic schoolgirl’ outfit for Friday. “See you then!”

She turned around, gave him a shy smile, and bounced off. She had just opened the heavy door out of the room when she heard him speak again, freezing her in her tracks. 

“Oh, Annabelle - how is the study with Dr. Bates going?”

And his question panicked her so much, made her heart change rhythm and made her skin itch as if something was straining to come out of it, made her eyes itch and crawl and burst, that every calculated move went out the window. She didn’t answer his question, didn’t even give an excuse - she just ran out the door, bright purple vintage boots thumping against the linoleum, breath catching in a chest where she was no longer sure she even had ribs. 

Most of her was already calculating. She was already two months into uni, she had to start establishing her power base. The minute her sorority accepted her she’d have greater access to money, popularity, and influence, but she needed reach with the administration too.  Mr. Sims was her in. This was a good thing. 

But part of her was disappointed, because she had liked him, and she felt a little used. Feelings of disgust, as strong and vivid as in her nightmares, rose in her chest. She squished far down in her chest, familiar with the feeling and effortlessly repressing it.  

Annabelle was good with disgusting things. 

She had another session with the Arachnophobia study on Monday. Which went fine. It was fine! She didn’t wake up that morning so sick with nerves that she almost threw up. She didn’t stare at her email inbox for thirty minutes, begging herself to cancel and drop out of the study. Nope. 

She distracted herself by befriending all of her roommate’s friends and dropping faux-concerned gossip about how cranky and anxious Irene’s been lately, have you noticed she’s been blaming me for how badly she’s sleeping? It was really super sad, frowny face, how do you think I can help, frowny face frowny face frowny face? 

So Annabelle went to the Arachnophobia study (it was fine), had increasingly realistic and vivid nightmares about her chest caving in and a nest of spiders crawling out of her chest and eating her eyes, and slept through class. It was all fine. 

She should have gone to Oxford. It still made her a little bitter. She had been smart enough to get in, but she hadn’t been smart enough to get the full scholarship. She couldn’t afford it, so instead she was stuck in University of Surrey, where dreams went to die. Future politicians should go to Oxford. Yeah, Surrey had some peers and Parliament members, whatever. She needed better, Oxford and awards and money. From there, from some swotty school or another, it was easy street. Annabelle deserved easy street, and she deserved Oxford, and it just wasn’t fair -

After another three am nightmare, Annabelle blearily scrolled through her sibling groupchat. Barney was doing great in med school. Tricia had posted her maternity photos. Wow, look at that, Robin had gotten a commendation at his law firm. Whatever. 

No hope of distinguishing herself in the world. No hope of distinguishing herself in her stupid family. She was smarter than any of her siblings, brighter and better than those doctors and lawyers and accountants, but nobody cared. Mum and Dad were living their retirement in comfort and cooing over their grandchildren, finally rewarded in old age for all their hard work. 

If Annabelle dropped off the face of the earth, nobody would even notice. 

It should have been a depressing thought. The idea that nobody cared about her, not really, that nobody knew the real her. But somehow it just made her heart beat faster in excitement. 

The idea of disappearing from all of this, of cutting herself free from a thousand threads that brought her plummeting down to earth...in the cold hours of that dark morning, to an eighteen year old terrified and alone in uni, it was a siren song. 

It was a siren song that sounded, oddly, like the chittering and scuttling of a thousand tiny bodies, but Annabelle was learning to look beyond that. 

By the time next Friday rolled around, Annabelle was considering breaking her self-imposed rule against drugs and popping a Xanax. But that wouldn’t help her exhaustion, the persistent bone-deep frazzled sensation of going a week on almost no sleep whatsoever, so she settled for an espresso as she wriggled herself into a tight, slinky plaid dress paired with a puffy olive green windbreaker. She wasn’t sure if she owned any clothing that was made after 1990 - a habit born from a childhood of shopping from thirst stores, and continued voluntarily into high school when she started making her own money online fleecing suckers. It was her, so much as anything was. 

“Hot date?” Irene asked, bending over her Physics textbook without looking up. She glanced at her vibrating phone, scowling. Poor baby - her friends were staging an intervention. “New guy or old guy?”

“New guy,” Annabelle said vaguely, carefully picking out a bold red lipstick - or did that seem too forward? Should she go for a natural look? “If I’m not back by midnight call the police. I’ll text you a picture of his car.”

“Roger.” Irene flipped a page of her textbook, oblivious to the fact that she was one of the few people Annabelle genuinely liked. Not enough not to screw with her, but she liked her. “He’s not good enough for you, something something.”

“Darling,” Annabelle said, winking into the mirror, “nobody is.”

She hoped Irene believed it. She didn’t. 

It wasn’t a frequent occurrence that Annabelle wished she was stupid, but today she wished she was stupid enough to take a power nap during her ten minute Uber ride. Her mind felt frazzled and frayed, as if it had been taken out of her scalp and spread out with a rolling pin onto a floured countertop. She felt as if she was melting, her vision spiralling into fractals or blurring out. She wanted to sleep. God, she’d do anything for some sleep -

So she blared Bad Romance in her frayed earbuds instead, clutching her iPod Touch tightly, pulling herself together. Gaga, give her strength. 

By the time that she tipped her driver, effortlessly found Mr. Sims’ car in the parking lot of Bombay Bicycle Club and texted Irene the license plate (Volkswagen, obviously), she had dragged herself into focus. She stapled on her confident posture and walk - no, we’re going with ingenue today, make it shy and hesitant - and slipped inside the restaurant, making a show of holding her clutch tight to her chest and looking around with big eyes. 

She saw him instantly. He was sitting in a corner booth, head down and texting on his phone with a half-smile. The corner booth was poorly lit, light dampened by the wood panelling and soft leather seats, and half of his face was draped in shadow. 

Great. She had even arrived ten minutes early just so she could pick a brightly lit, intimate little table in the center of the room. This guy - he was almost like her. He was almost like her, but he was better. 

Annabelle fought the urge to grind her teeth. She smiled instead, waving cheerfully until he raised his head. He smiled back at her, wriggling his fingers, and Annabelle wove around the tables until she could slide into the seat across from him. 

“This is cozy!” She said brightly. “Thank you so much for inviting me out, Mr. Sims. It’s been ages since I got away from my books -”

“Oh, cut that shit out,” Mr. Sims said, bored. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Annabelle’s mind shut down. Error 404, blue screen of death. 

“I’m sorry,” she said pleasantly, smile frozen on her face. “What?”

But Mr. Sims just shrugged listlessly, slumping against the cushioned wall. His expression was no longer fond, indulgent, haughty. He just looked bored now, as if he was too tired and underpaid to deal with eighteen year olds. “I don’t want to sit through this entire dinner fending off flirting. We have actual business to talk about, and I am uninterested in beating around the bush when there’s no point. You aren’t even subtle.”

“Excuse me -” Annabelle started, enraged, but Mr. Sims put up a hand and cut her off. 

The change was instant. On a dime, Mr. Sims straightened his posture, swept a finger through his hair to transform it from slicked back professor type to windswept, adopted a friendly and casual expression, and leaned in as if he was happy and excited to be sitting with Annabelle. In a moment he dropped ten years. Barely a second after his transformation the waiter approached them, holding a notepad, and Annabelle realized with a start that he had noticed the waiter coming before she did. 

“How are you two doing tonight?” the waiter asked politely, smiling at the both of them in a rote routine that Annabelle remembered from her own days waitressing. 

“Doing great!” Mr. Sims said, and even his accent was different, closely matching her own. He glanced back at Annabelle, nothing but open and friendly. “Mum says get whatever you want, dork. It’s on her bill, so let’s run her out of house and home.”

Instinctually, Annabelle shot back, “Aren’t you old enough to take me out to eat with your own money, loser?”

“Not with your stomach!” Mr. Sims laughed, and the waiter chuckled along too. Mr. Sims effortlessly rapped out an order for the waiter, before Annabelle even got a chance to look at the menu, and when she floundered Mr. Sims just rolled his eyes and ordered for her too. It was, somehow, her favorite food. 

He waited for the waiter to move onto the next table, eyeing him carefully, before he let the persona drop. Mr. Sims sagged again, dropping the friendly act, sizing her up from half-lidded eyes. 

“How did he even believe that,” Annabelle said flatly. “We don’t look anything alike.”

“White people will believe anything,” Mr. Sims said, rolling his eyes. “I have the Belgian government convinced I’m an Iraqi scientist and most high profile Australian celebrities think I’m Egyptian royalty.”

“...does Egypt have -”

“Nope.”

Annabelle was beginning to feel a little like the star actress in the school play who got upstaged in every way by the villain’s performance. Nobody did what she did. Nobody did what she did, but better. 

“Don’t feel insecure,” Mr. Sims said, as if he could read her mind. “I’m a good actor, and I’m excellent at reading people. But I can’t plan or plot like you do. I’m shit at thinking three steps ahead, much less thirty. You can keep plots and schemes going for years - decades, even, if I were to guess. I’m not sure how someone as competent as you can have self-esteem issues.”

Annabelle bristled. “You try having nobody care about you for - how do you even know that shit about me?” Something terrible occurred to her. “Are you some kind of stalker, Mr. Sims?”

Mr. Sims shuddered in real disgust. “It’s Jon. And no, of course not. You just aren’t as subtle as you think you are.”

Yes, she was. She was subtle to everyone on the planet - everyone save, maybe, Jon. Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Jon said immediately. 

“Liar. Everybody wants something.”

“I’m here altruistically,” Jon said, the perfect picture of innocence. “Really. I’m here to help you, Annabelle.”

“You are stalking me.” Annabelle leaned forward, but Sims didn’t move. “Are you even a real graduate student?”

“Absolutely not. I’m twenty three, I got my Psych degree last year and I’ve been bouncing odd jobs since.” Jon shrugged, as Annabelle felt silently vindicated. Nothing about this man acted like a twenty three year old - she remembered her siblings at twenty-three, there was nothing adult about them - but it was probably just another persona. She wondered how far she’d have to scratch to get to the real Jon Sims. 

“So you were just at Surrey to spy on me,” Annabelle said slowly. “I don’t know what country you’re from, but in England that’s definitely stalking.”

“I’d call it scouting,” Jon said. The waiter dropped by to place their drinks on the table - Jon had gotten a mule for himself, and he had ordered water for Annabelle in a move uncharacteristic for a sketchy guy. He waited until the waiter left to continue. “Call me a recruiter.”

“For who? What kind of job recruiter teaches a class for two months just to get to me?”

“How’s your study with Dr. Blake going, Annabelle?” Jon said, almost randomly, and Annabelle shut up. He must have seen something in her eyes, because a sharp little grin stretched in the corner of his narrow and sharp face. “Thought so. What do you dream of, Annabelle? In the cold corners of night, what fears come to life in the dark recesses of your mind?”

Maybe, Annabelle thought inanely, this was a dream too. Just an extended nightmare, one she hadn’t woken up from. It felt like that: distant and strange, hyper-real and unreal. This strange man sitting in front of her, who swapped faces so easily even Annabelle couldn’t keep up, was far too out of place to truly exist. 

Or maybe he was the first real person she had met in a very long time. 

Jon continued talking, as if she had responded. Maybe she had. “I am not a hero in this story. If I was, I would have come earlier. I would have deleted your name from the pool of subjects, and I would have made it so that you never got that call.” Jon looked away from her for the first time, letting a little sadness show on his face. “I couldn’t. No - no, I could have, I simply chose not to. You’re important, Annabelle. And I didn’t want to rob you of something that you may grow to treasure. I’m afraid that the choice you make now may not be much of a choice at all - but, perhaps, there is still a chance. At the very least, I would like to make this transition a little easier for you. It is a terrible thing, to have to do it alone.”

That…

“That was so vague it was completely meaningless.”

Jon barked a laugh, strangely delighted. “It’s not fair to speak in circles to somebody who’s gone a week without sleep!”

“But you’re doing it on purpose,” Annabelle said, too dead inside to feel mad.

“Oh, absolutely. I am not taking the risk of taking you on at full power.” Jon smiled at her, as if they were friends sharing a joke. “I saw what you did to that Walker boy in secondary.”

Despite herself, Annabelle smiled. “Hear he gets out on parole in five.” Something else occurred to her, a bit belatedly. “You are stalking me!”

“Does a spider stalk the fly that strikes a string on its web?” Jon asked cheerfully. “Or is it simply investigating an encroachment into its territory?”

“Does that mean that you’re going to eat me?” Annabelle said archly. “Thought you said you didn’t want to fuck me. Rude, by the way.”

Almost hilariously, Jon wrinkled his nose. “Sex is a waste of time, resources, and my attention. Can’t imagine why people are so obsessed.”

“I know, right!” Annabelle burst out, before she could help herself. “Do you have any idea how much money I get a month from guys just to talk to me? It’s like they’re aliens! Why do people fuck or date if it’s not to manipulate someone?”

“Right! It’s ridiculous.”

It was the first time anybody had ever agreed with her on that. It was the first time she had even told anybody she felt that way. For a brief second, Annabelle felt connected to Jon. It was the first time that happened in...a very long time. 

Jon was the first person Annabelle had ever met who was like her. Everybody in Annabelle’s life had always been either useful or useless. Jon seemed above that, somehow. To be beyond utility, to exist on your own power...what did that look like? To be the powerful, instead of the powerless?

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many puppet strings Annabelle tied around her fingers, she was never powerful. Not really. She was eighteen, from a nothing family, and no matter how many molehills she made herself queen of she would never rule the mountain. She couldn’t get as far as she wanted with what she had. The only reason she had even volunteered for the stupid Arachnophobia experiment was because she needed to crush out weakness in herself, erase the hidden flaws in her mind.

But Jon said her flaws were strengths. What made her weak could be turned into power. 

Annabelle needed more, more, more. She needed everything, if she was to have anything. She needed what Jon had. 

Everything Annabelle said had a purpose. Every word she used was chosen carefully, every little gesture or body language was calculated. She said nothing without thinking, and she could do it so quickly nobody even noticed. Jon would notice, a con man as perfect as she was.

Let him. Give her two straight days to sleep, and they’d have a real battle of wits. In the meantime, she just had to pick her questions strategically.

“What am I turning into?” Annabelle asked, after a half-second of rapid thought. “Who are you? And what do spiders have to do with any of this?”

Jon smiled again broadly, grey eyes dancing with a barely hidden delight. “You’re fully aware that these are all the same question.”

“Then answer them. You said you’re here to help me. Then help me.” Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “We’ll negotiate a price later.”

“This one is a freebie,” Jon said. He leaned back, face fading into the shadow of the dim yellow light of the hanging light. “You’re turning into something much akin to myself.”

In the darkness, Annabelle saw Jon open his eyes. And his eyes. And his eyes…

All eight of Jon’s glittering black eyes shone in the darkness, straining her own and making her head thump. It was wrong, outside of humanity or reality, and it felt as if the very sight was straining the fabric of her delicately maintained life so tight it would tear. It felt as if it was tearing her, right in two, ruining her forever. Her eyes felt like they were going to burst out of her head. 

She didn’t want to know what would replace them. But she had the feeling that she already did. 

“Then what,” Annabelle gritted out, “are you?”

“I am the eldest and most treasured Son of the Mother of Spiders,” Jon said. He smiled at her, just a little, almost apologetic. “Sorry about that. I know you’ve always wanted to be an only child.”

Ah. Duh. Obviously. She should have known.

“...do I want to know who the Mother of Spiders is?”

“Your mother, should you choose to accept her,” Jon said cheerfully, leaning back into the light, and his face was normal again. Human as ever. Strange and foreign as ever - possibly everything, possibly nothing. “I know you aren’t strictly in the market for adoption, but you may not have much of a choice. You’ve felt her scratching beneath her skin. She’s going to tear out of you, and soon. Did you know some species of wasp lay their eggs in the body of spiders to provide food for the grubs?”

“During the next experiment,” Annabelle said dully, already filtering out Jon’s useless tidbits of information. That was a guy who spoke for the sake of hearing himself talk. “That’s when it’s happening. When I’ll...change.”

“Yes. It’s a painful process,” Jon said, and it was almost apologetic. “My own happened when I was fifteen - quite young, all things considered. I still remember the sound of my bones snapping as -”

“Don’t.”

“Of course! Anyway, I thought I’d make sure you had...to use the psych term, informed consent, before you entered the crucible. Our - my, sorry - Mother often foregoes true consent in our operations. The beauty of nature!” Jon laughed, as Annabelle felt sick. “Agnes wanted to put together a pamphlet, but then we let Gerry go wild on the clipart and...well, it’s better if I just explain. I can’t give you the full story now, but I’ll tell you as much as your mind can comprehend.”

Annabelle wasn’t sure she could even comprehend this. It was so much, and she was so tired. She had just heard that her body was going to rupture like a cocoon and give birth to a giant spider that may or may not also be her, and all she could think about was the fact that she wanted to go back to bed. Somehow, all she could ask was -

“Why?” She asked, so stupid and pointless, as if she was stupid, as if she wasn’t her at all. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s like I said.” In the dim yellow lighting, Jon’s eyes glittered pure black, and in that brief and stupid second Annabelle felt as if they were the same in that way. “Nobody should have to go through this alone and ignorant.” Then the moment was over, and his eyes were a human grey again, just left of normal. “Besides. Siblings stick together, right?”

“I hardly need more siblings,” Annabelle snapped. 

“You’re about to lose seven of them real soon,” Jon promised, extremely worryingly, “so I’d take what you can get right now, Annabelle.”

“Are you going to kill -”

“Unfortunately, you may have to fake your own death!”

Then their food came, and Annabelle received her first lesson in the class of hard knocks. 

They talked for hours. It took hours, to even just get a picture of the story. Jon was patient, answering every question, and Annabelle strained so hard trying to fight through her exhaustion, trying to understand the answer, Jon’s motivation in answering it or what he could be leaving out, that by the end of it she felt as if she had run a marathon. She had never felt so tired in her life, in the most dangerous situation in her life, with the most dangerous person she had ever met. 

By the end of it, Irene was texting her to ask if she was dead, and Annabelle was falling asleep at her chair. Jon cut an end to their conversation when he slid out his wallet, covered the bill with a black Amex card, and slid a business card against the table. Annabelle squinted down at it. 

The text in the center just said [FREELANCERS]. That was it. She stared at it.

Underneath the vague word, she saw a phone number [555-555] and an email [email@organization.gov]. Annabelle looked up to stare at Jon. “Are you for real?”

“Almost never,” Jon said cheerfully, “but the card will make sense when it needs to. Let me take you back to your dorm, alright? You can get some sleep in the car.”

If he was a creep, she was dead anyway. Annabelle didn’t bother arguing. She grabbed her jacket and got in the passenger seat of his car, and true to his word Annabelle drifted asleep almost immediately. She even felt as if the ride took longer than ten minutes, as if he drove in circles just waiting for her.

For the first time in a week, Annabelle slept uninterrupted, and had no dreams.

Annabelle wanted what Jon had. 

And a week later, she took it. 

Shivering in an alley, clothing ripped to shreds, her own skin hanging off her triple jointed limbs, she dug out a creased and torn business card. She had been worrying at it intensely over the weekend, staring and it and clenching it tightly as if it was her only lifeline. It was, of course. But Jon had known that.

The card looked different now. The text now looked handwritten, but with a beautiful and old-timey slanted handwriting. It now just read: 

‘To Annabelle, with love. From your new friends Gerry, Jon, and Agnes’. There was a number underneath, and Annabelle frantically dug in her tattered leather jacket pocket to draw out her cracked phone. 

Annabelle hated taking favors from people. Everything she had, she had fought for herself. She would scrape, borrow, beg, and steal whatever she had to. But, when it came to siblings...maybe, then, it was okay.

Dizzily, as Annabelle let the phone ring, she thought: this is my supervillain origin story. 

The thought sent a slow smile crawling across her inhuman and warped face. 

Sounds like fun. 

[regular-lord-reckoner]

shit’s just been...kinda rough lately and i just need to vent about it for a second

my mom ended up testing positive for covid last week

she’s not 100% sure the test was correct because it was one of those rapid tests and she mostly just ended up having a headache one day and some coughing for a few days but still quarantined nevertheless

she feels horrible for having gotten it, especially after all this time, but we did regretfully attend a family get together on christmas eve

i’m not sure if that’s where it came from since she found out today that one of her coworkers who’s been really sick lately was apparently not wearing her mask like she was supposed to not long before my mom ended up getting sick so...who fucking knows

still, the christmas eve thing was a bad idea.

i guess in my mind i felt like i’d been seeing so many people i know who are vaccinated go to get-togethers and hang out with their friends and do all of that and they ended up being okay and so i thought...okay, as long as we’re super careful (and we were) it should be fine

and honestly, if it hadn’t been for the fact that my mom wanted us to go since this could potentially be my grandma and my dad’s last christmas i would have just said no

in any case, so far nobody’s gotten really sick and miraculously my dad has been fine 

i took him today so we could both get covid tested because i figured it’s been a few days at this point so the results should be accurate and he needed to get one anyway before his next procedure on thursday

hopefully they both come back negative but i know for damn sure i’m not risking this shit again. other people might be able to lick strangers’ asscracks and be totally okay but i can’t do this shit again and i’m mad at myself that this happened in the first place

on top of all of that, my aunt ended up having a mental breakdown the other day and ended up taking it out on me!!!! so that was a lot of fun!!!

she’s been staying with us for a few weeks because she’s been working from home and is vaccinated and wanted to come up to spend some time with my grandma and help my dad out with some of his appointments and whatnot and that was all fine until it just...overflowed, i guess

she just got overwhelmed with everything that’s happening (her mom dying, my dad having cancer, this covid shit, stuff with her job, etc.) so it all just kinda...exploded and unfortunately i ended up being the target

this has happened before, the last time it was actually my dad who got the brunt of it and once again, shit just kinda built up and built up and she ended up picking a fight with him over nothing and used that as an excuse to run and not deal with whatever was really bothering her

this time she decided that a conversation she overheard me having with my mom was somehow about her and so rather than like...confront me or both of us about it and be like, “hey, were you talking shit about me?” she stewed on it all that night and as soon as i got done with work the next day she started in on me

in actuality, i wanted to talk to just my mom because i knew i was going to get emotional and just...didn’t want to do that in front of everyone. but somehow that turned into this whole big thing where apparently my mom and i are so stupid that if we were going to talk shit about someone we would definitely do that in the kitchen where we could easily be overheard.

the whole thing just ended up being a mess and incredibly frustrating because it’s that thing where someone’s mad at you because they’re using you as an excuse to be upset so there’s just...nothing you can really say or do. I couldn’t defend myself, I couldn’t explain myself, I could use any kind of logic or reasoning and it was literally at the point where I was pointing out like, “hey, this is a pattern of behavior with you where you don’t want to deal with whatever’s really going on so you pick a fight and then run away to not have to deal with anything” and the response to that was, “no, that’s what you do, the whole family says so”

sorry but....huh????

like listen, i know i definitely am not perfect and have been feeling especially like an asshole lately with all of this going on but i cannot emphasize enough how much that just...isn’t a thing, i’ve never done that.

so it was just a lot of that, like, “hey, if you let me actually get a word in edgewise for five seconds i can clear up this misunderstanding” met with, “no, no i’m not listening to it, i know this game and i just want to leave” followed by a slew of accusations of shit i literally just...did not do/do not actually think/didn’t say, etc.

just...very exhausting. it happened days ago and i’m still mentally just wiped out over it

this whole...everything else that’s been going on, that wasn’t enough apparently. plate definitely runneth over with bullshit but somehow more found its way on there, incredible!

in any case, i think we’ve got it all sorted out now and hopefully things can stay relatively calm and steady until she goes back home but just...goddamn it has not been a great time over here

i’ll just be happy as along as everyone ends up being okay and that if nothing else if my dad’s test comes back negative i can breathe a little easier

i just...i wish my family a very please go to therapy. please, please god go to therapy.

[adacarisi]

Anon: Currently sitting in a room with my cat who is passing away. Would you mind writing about Barba who's GF has lost her longtime pet and finally breaks down to Barba about it. I have trouble showing emotion specifically grief so it often gets misread as not caring enough. But I'm handling this with difficulty. If you dont want to dont worry. Appreciate it thanks for writing so many requests I enjoy reading them.

I’m so sorry you’re going through this, it’s horrible to go through loss and not know how to process it physically or emotionally. Whatever feelings you have and however you need to express them is valid as long as you’re not self destructing or hurting others. I hope this helps a little, sorry it took so long.  

The story of how you met your cat was nearly as random as how you’d met Rafael Barba. You’d been much younger and much more lonely when you’d seen that thin little kitten darting in and out of blades of tall grass as you drove down the highway. Without a thought you’d swerved off the side of the road and jumped out of your car into the pouring rain. 

    You ran towards where you’d seen the little animal last and managed to catch a glimpse of its shape as it began moving towards the road. You reached the cat just in time, swooping its little frail and soaking wet body into your arms. You wrapped the kitten in the hoodie you had sitting on the passengers seat and turned up the heat that earlier had been at a low hum. 

    The vets office wasn’t far and luckily nothing was wrong with the little kitten. The vet seemed to think that someone had thrown the young kitten from a car but somehow it was unharmed. As those watery eyes stared up at you it became clear the two of you were bound together now. It seemed only natural what followed, you took her home, went out and bought a liter box, bags of dry food and cans of wet food, even a few toys you thought she’d enjoy. The months went by and became years. Your little kitten grew and the two of you got to know each other so well. When you were sick she’d curl up next to wherever it hurt the most, sometimes next to your head and other times resting her little head on your belly. 

    You found that you preferred the company of your cat to people when before you’d preferred no company at all. As the years went on there were many changes but she was with you through it all, those large eyes gazing up at you in solidarity whenever you’d lost hope or faith. A few of your darkest moments were only turned by the thought of leaving her behind. Who would care for her if not you? Who would give her what she deserved and needed if not you? Would she ever forgive you for leaving her? Anyone else would say that she could easily get on without you and that someone else would care for her. But you knew better than to give into that. There were times you’d sense ailments in her before she even sensed them in herself. You knew each other so well and were perfectly content and at ease when alone with one another as the years went by. 

   You’d met Rafael by chance in the same weather conditions that you’d met your cat. You’d met on a rainy day in the city with the sound of squeaking breaks and the scent of exhaust permeating through the windows of the courthouse. You’d been managing to do your work just fine when he rushed up to the attorney window. You were a legal assistant for circuit criminal but rarely did you have the misfortune of having to attend to the attorney window. You’d seen him before and had written him off as another pompous attorney but on that day you’d witnessed someone far more human than you’d previously observed. He was kind and patient, even humorous. And for the first time in years you found yourself smiling and maybe even hopeful. 

   The two of you dated off and on for a year or so and then things became more serious. Rafael Barba seemed like he could be it, he could be the person you shared your life with. The truest test was when he met your cat. You knew she could detect any trace of evil or bullshit, she’d been right when you’d introduced her to your now ex-best friend. 

“I’m not really a cat person, or dog person.” Rafael had begun to make excuses on the way up to your apartment. 

“Neither was I.” You smiled, still nervous but hoping for the best. 

When you opened the door to your apartment there she sat, poised and concentrated. You pulled Rafael to the couch in your living room and took a seat beside him. He seemed nervous, and he was right to be. Paw by paw she slunk around the edges of the room before leaping onto Rafael’s lap. She stretched her long body towards his face and took rapid sniffs, her whiskers trembling with her effort. Your cat took a few steps forward on his lap and stretched upwards even further before ceremoniously licking Rafael’s nose not once but twice before meowing loudly and hopping off of him to nuzzle your leg. 

“She licked me.” Rafael had smiled and reached down to pet your cat who accepted the affection very willingly. 

“It seems she likes you just as much as I do.” You had leaned towards him for a kiss when he’d turned towards you with a strange look on his face. 

“What?” You’d asked only to be met with a look that told you you should already know what he was about to say. 

“I would hope that you’d feel a little more than that for me by now.” Rafael pushed up his sleeves and you tensed. 

Had you ruined this already? Emotion wasn’t easy for you, it wasn’t how you chose to express yourself. So much of your reality happened internally, a place that was safe for you to process things without bombardment or harassment. You had done your best to covey your admiration and enjoyment of Rafael through words and actions but as usual it was misread. Allowing him to meet your cat had been a massive step for you. Allowing him into your home was monumental. And yet it appeared that he couldn’t understand that. 

The two of you fought that night for longer than you cared to admit. It was a fight unlike what you imagined typical couples would have. It was slow and measured, calculated statements received and returned for hours. Your cat had seemed amused at first, her eyes darting intelligently back and forth between the you and your boyfriend, but eventually she grew bored and fell asleep at Rafael’s feet. The two of you talked and talked until the conversation became more warm and smiles returned to both of your faces. 

   That night was the first time you finally felt understood. It was also the night that Rafael Barba understood not only that you loved him but how you loved him. There was a learning curve for a few months but things proceeded smoothly and happily for the years that followed. The two of you eventually moved in to a mutual apartment and forged a new life together. It was a quiet and peaceful life, one that Rafael Barba had never expected for himself but quite enjoyed. After all, he would have lived any life for you. 

   The night you told Rafael something was wrong with your cat he was heartbroken. Once again you’d sensed something was wrong with her before she even knew it herself. Your little kitten had gotten old and her body was failing her. The two of you took her to the vet the next day and after the labs were processed your intuition was confirmed. Your most loyal friend was dying, feline cancer, and there was little that could be done. Despite the minute options for treatment you tried them all. Diet, medication, everything. And nothing worked. Though you didn’t appear distressed to anyone else Rafael could see how frantic you were, how desperate you were not to lose your dear friend. He could see it in your eyes and sense it in your diction. 

    Two weeks later the time came. You held her close as she passed, laying on the ground with her soft body pulled into your chest. You watched as her wide eyes fell semi shut and her body tensed then slacked. You felt many things in that moment, abandonment, anger, pain and grief. You felt them all weighing you down like slabs of concrete. Rafael had gone to work that day but you had stayed home. You had known she wouldn’t be there when you got home. So you held her until she grew stiff and cold, smoothing her coat over and over before finally getting up to call the vet. 

   When the vet’s assistant arrived at your apartment she created a paw imprint as a keepsake for you out of some quick hardening clay. The tech explained that many people found the keepsake comforting especially when they couldn’t bury their pet. You watched as the vet tech carefully placed your companion in a plastic bag, hardly hearing the words that left her mouth as she apologized and offered her condolences. You smiled and nodded and before you knew it you were alone. For the first time in so many years you were totally alone. You waited for the familiar brush of your kitten against your leg but it never came. 

  Hours later you heard Rafael’s key in the door and the pregnant pause as he waited for your cat to make her way to the front door to greet him. Though she’d been getting slower day by day she still had been able to make her way to the foyer every day when Rafael got home. But not today. You heard the front door shut with a loud slam and your boyfriend came rushing down the hall dropping his brief case and a bag of to go Chinese food in one harsh motion. 

“Where is she?” Rafael asked, every word coated in anger.

“She died this morning, the vet’s nurse took her around eleven.” You got up and picked up the bag of food he had carelessly dropped. 

“You didn’t call me?” He asked bitterly following you into the kitchen where you began to unpack the meal he’d brought home. 

“Why would I, she wasn’t yours.” You spoke plainly, only turning around when you felt his eyes bore into your back. 

“I loved her as much as you did. I know this is hard for you but it’s hard for me too.” Tears had filled Rafael’s eyes and as he finished speaking they fell. 

“Why?” You couldn’t understand why he would feel the way he said he did. She’d been yours long before you’d met him. 

  “Because I love you, I can see how hurt you are and how helpless you’ve felt the last few weeks. It’s not your fault and I know you’re grieving in your own way but I would have liked to be there for you and for her.” Rafael reached for your hand but you pulled it away. 

“It’s not my responsibility to be upset in a way that you understand. She’s...she was my friend. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You started angrily but finished so softly your voice was barely audible. 

You took a container of egg drop soup and a crab rangoon back to the living room and sat down to eat. After a beat Rafael joined you and the two of you ate in silence. You didn’t speak when you took the trash to the kitchen to throw out, and you didn’t speak when you climbed into bed. You laid there feeling angry and sad, but mostly sad as you mulled over your exchange with Rafael. 

   Rafael stayed up for a while, holding the little imprint of your cats paw in his hands. He just wanted you to feel better, to open up and let some of the pain out but he knew he had to be patient. After all, he was frighteningly similar to you when it came to things like this. Rafael had stifled his emotions so many times throughout his life and career that they rarely showed, but god they burned away inside his chest and turned his stomach. It was then that Rafael Barba began to cry, not only for you and the pain you were enduring but for his sweet little girl, your cat, who he had come to love so much. Rafael had never really bought into the whole idea of having a pet but your cat had taken to him so quickly and he’d fallen in love. She became his little girl despite her already being quite old when they’d met. Rafael sobbed as silently as he could where he sat on the couch, tracing over the imprint her paw had made in the white clay. 

   You assumed Rafael was in his office so when you got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen it surprised you to find him on the couch, his shoulders heaving up and down with the weight of his sobs. When you moved closer you saw what was in his hands, the paw imprint. Seeing the man you loved mourning the loss of your treasured companion you too began to cry as you fell to your knees in front of him. The two of you stayed there for a while, both grieving together yet separately. Eventually Rafael pulled you up into his lap and his arms, letting you cry into his neck as the release of anger, grief and helplessness flooded from you. When you found you could speak again you did, telling your boyfriend just how you felt, how hard it was for you and why. The most amazing thing was that he understood, not just you emotions but your expression of them. Rafael spoke next, revealing the depth of his grief as well. Though you’d been together for years it shocked you just how similarly you dealt with things like grief and pain. 

   That night you realized there was nothing wrong with the way you expressed your emotions and there was nothing wrong with you. All it took was finding the right person who could accept you and be there for you while you processed them. You discovered that it was more than okay to feel things your own way, after all, your feelings belonged to you, but you also found that when a bond between souls exists, animals and humans alike, you no longer had to experience them alone. And after all those years of loneliness and pain, you finally found peace in that. 

[allie1804-fan]

Please Assist Me (Chapter 20)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9, Chapter 10 , Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 , Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19

She Said

The spectacle of an entirely speechless Keanu was one to behold when he unwrapped the test. I’d been bursting with the news since the morning before when I got the result so it had been an endurance test for me not to have anyone to share it with for over 24 hours. I knew there were long months ahead to get through but it was lovely to share the joy of this moment with him and go to sleep secure in his arms after almost a month apart.

My mind since finding out had been racing, projecting forwards to how far along I’d be by key dates like the summer holidays, Keanu finishing John Wick 4 filming, the Matrix 4 Premiere …… and I was worried about the immediate future too.  I hadn’t been especially sick with either of my previous pregnancies but I had been incredibly tired. With Eva, I was doing modelling contracts but not every day so, on days off, I remember just sleeping for ages. Obviously with Miguel, I had a toddler to care for so I couldn’t nap unless she did but I sure took advantage of that time whenever I could. I was also worried about the home schooling which was really full on. How was I going to soldier on through that? And by the time Keanu would be home again, I reckoned I’d already be nearly 20 weeks along. I suppose he would at least be there as the strain on my body got greater.

I also told myself not to get ahead of myself. It was such early days and whilst I’d not suffered a miscarriage myself, I had plenty of friends who had in these early stages. And the spectre of stillbirth was also there because of Keanu’s own experience. Until this baby was here, I was sure neither of us would rest easy.  I didn’t really want to share the news with the kids until the pregnancy was better established. I was pretty sure they’d be pleased but they might worry about the new baby somehow taking priority and if the worst happened, I didn’t want to have to explain about how not all babies make it to full term to an 9 and 7 year old. But I also knew friends who had kept their pregnancies secret, suffered a miscarriage and then felt they couldn’t share the pain of the loss afterwards so maybe openness was the best option with our close friends and family and maybe even the kids. I’d have to add this decision to my list of things to talk about with Keanu.

 He Said

When I woke up the next morning,  my first reaction was to pull the human hot water bottle in front of me into my chest, relishing being together again. And then I remembered. She wasn’t just my partner anymore but also the mother to be of my child.

A big smile spread over my face at this thought. Then worry creased my brow.

Sophia had said she reckoned she was around 8 weeks along - that left 32 roughly for anxiety and things to go wrong!

She’d managed to book a scan for before my return to New York so we’d hopefully get to see the baby, tiny dot that it would be, and get the dates confirmed.

She actually reckoned it was that amazing day in NY that we’d conceived. The dates were right and she remembered someone telling her years ago that your chances were better if the woman also climaxed when the man did as this had the effect of sucking up the sperm further with the contractions in the vagina. Who knows if there’s any truth in that but I certainly remembered the powerful sensation of being sucked into her very well!

32 weeks. Man that seemed like forever. And the dates were a little freaky too. If you calculated by her dates, then the baby was due on New Year’s Day 2021. Ava had been due in early January and was born sleeping on Christmas Eve 1999. Jen and I had conceived after being careless after a Matrix Premiere party. At least this time, there was nothing accidental about this baby and no nagging doubts about the relationship.

We’d have to tell Cheryl in case anything got leaked and then there were the kids and our families to consider. I was cautious but also remembered my therapist’s advice - the one I’d seen in my 40s after years of suppressing the processing of my trauma after Ava & Jen’s deaths. She had tried to get me to accept that worrying about things on your own was never healthy and that being hopeful that good things will come doesn’t jinx things and nor does preparing for bad things to happen stave them off magically. I rationalised that all we could do was take care, have regular check ups and try to enjoy the journey.

I know Sophia was probably more anxious than her first pregnancies, in part due to her age but also due to what had happened to me and Jen. I decided to suggest we hire some help with the home-schooling to ease the daily stresses of her life in the coming months.

And all these thoughts had gone through my mind before Sophia even woke up!

Eventually I felt her stir and she turned in my arms to give me a sleepy morning kiss

“Morning handsome”

“Morning beautiful mama”

She smiled

“Oh you’re not gonna be one of those men who reduces their partner to a mere vessel for their child are you?”

That made me chuckle.

“Naaah, but you’ll let me be a little bit excited right?”  I placed my hand on her belly  again.

“ Right” she said and leaned in to given me a gentle kiss which quickly deepened into something more heated. Then she pulled away and looked over at the clock.

“We don’t have time lover boy”

I groaned, but knew she was right, - it was already 5 to 7

“Hey get used to it! And Don’t worry we have tomorrow to ourselves”

I gave her a quick squeeze and just then Eva and Miguel burst into the room.

“Keanuuu” was their first cry and so the day began!

 She Said

On Keanu’s first day back, it was a school day so he got to witness  the transformation of my dining room into a mini classroom with each kid stationed in front of a laptop with headphones in on an off for a morning with exercises to do in-between. Luckily, although there were 5 kids, they were only spread across 2 year groups so 3 (9 year olds) had one set of exercises and 2 (the 7 year olds) had another. He helped out by listening in to the 7 year old’s lesson while I supported Eva’s year group with theirs. Miguel delighted in bragging that Duke Caboom was helping him with his addition, making Keanu give the teacher a little wave on the zoom screen.

After lunch together, Keanu sent me off for a nap and sat down to read them all  some chapters of the Roald Dhal story we had started and then and got them all playing quiet games like hangman and battleships for a while. When I came in,  they had just started watching “Up”. I tried to suggest an alternative but it was too late and they were all set on it. I mean, I love that movie but I had a feeling Keanu wouldn’t have seen it before and he wouldn’t be expecting one of the early moments. I was proved right when he made a rapid exit to the kitchen when that scene played out and I followed him to make sure he was alright.

He was leaning over the sink, trying to pull himself together and I slipped my arms around him, whispering.

“It will be OK darling, we’ll take all the care in the world to keep this baby safe and well, I promise! We just have to take it one day at a time”

He turned then and held me close and didn’t speak for a few more minutes, stifling a couple of sobs against my shoulder. When he’d got himself a bit more together, he  pulled back and looked at me, eyes a little red from crying.  He let about a shaky breath before speaking.

“Sorry - that just took me by surprise and, it was, it was like all my worries in the few hours since finding out were playing out on the screen and it was “ he shook his head. “It’s just a bit  overwhelming how much I want this baby with you and how horrifying the prospect of losing them is”

“I know sweetheart, me too, me too and I tried to get them to pick another movie but they were already set on it!”

“Yeah, I’d heard good things but I didn’t know the detail.”

“It’s wonderful, you should see it through for the pay off!”

 He Said

That evening as we were both slumped on the sofa, exhausted from the 5 kid day, I told Sophia my thought about getting her some support with the home-schooling. I thought she might be all “superwoman” about it but she admitted to finding it gruelling even today with my support and a little nap.

“I just can’t describe how energy sapping it is being pregnant. It’s not like I’m doing anything out of the ordinary but “

 “Hold it hold it, you’re growing a human being, don’t call it nothing out of the ordinary!”

“You know what I mean! And women have been doing this for thousands of years at the same time as tilling the land or working in a factory. Getting help does seem a bit ridiculous but at the same time, I so want it! What do you think the others will think?”

“What Julie and Miranda?”

“Yeah. I mean are they going to feel I’m cheating or something!”

“Not if you explain why ......”

“Yeah, about that. How do you feel about telling people?”

“Weeeell” I rubbed my chin thinking it over. “There are pros and cons right? I’m probably pro on balance because I think being open is probably better mental health wise. I don’t know about the kids. I mean it would be hard if you told them and ....

“And something went wrong ..... like in ‘Up’?”

“Yeah like in ‘Up’.” I squeezed her hand remembering earlier.

“I mean, actually maybe ‘Up’ is the answer. They’ve watched it before and I think we had a little chat about that scene the first time around so ....”

“Ok, so let’s go for it”

“Ok, Tomorrow if the scan is ok, deal?”

The next day, we drove together to the hospital but I dropped Sophia off first just so we wouldn’t be making an entrance together. We were also both masked up and I wore a beanie so hopefully we’d escaped any opportunist paps.

The wait was brief in the obgyn waiting area thankfully and we went in having a brief chat first to confirm when Sophia’s last period was etc before she was asked to lie down for the scan.

I  gripped her hand - I don’t know which of us was more nervous!

The screen showed a cone shape black area which was the uterus as revealed by the ultrasound waves and then there was a tiny circle which flashed in and out of view  - the doctor explained that was the heartbeat.

We each had tears of joy rolling down our faces.

The doctor left for a few minutes while Sophia wiped away the jelly and got dressed again.  I pulled her up for a kiss, still choked up.

“Thank you”

“No Thank you!” was her reply.

 She Said

After the relief of the scan, we made the next appointment for the end of the first trimester which Keanu was aiming to fly back for. Then we headed home, with me meeting Keanu in the car park rather than walking out together, again hoping to avoid any stalking paps. We picked up some lunch from a deli and headed back home. After our meal, Keanu sent me to take a nap – he had some e mails to catch up on regarding the upcoming shoot schedule and he could see that the visit had taken it out of me. I snoozed for a couple of hours, waking to find Keanu had joined me and was spooning me with his arm slung around me, hand on my belly again. I didn’t mind him being possessive of it!

I stretched and slowly turned round to see if he was sleeping too but he quickly opened his eyes.

“Hey, is that better?”

“uh huh – I needed that thanks”

“How long do we have before we have to fetch the kids?”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly 3”

“OK, well we have an hour and a half”

“time to show you how much I’ve missed you he said in a low voice, while softly stroking my breasts through my t-shirt, that OK?”

“mmmm more than OK”

We had slow, gentle sex and I delighted in the fact that we could vary from the intense, the jokey, gentle or wild when it came to sex, whatever felt right and this soft focus version was just what I needed right then, being in the unenergetic pregnant state that I was with tender breasts and erratic emotions.

Over at Julie’s we left the kids to play in the garden for a while and we embarked on telling her our news and the plan to get a tutor to help me with home-schooling on my days. Luckily she was both delighted at our news and happy with the tutor plan. I promised to keep her and Miranda involved with the process and then we headed home with the kids being the next ones to receive the news once we’d eaten dinner.

 He Said

As dinner plates were cleared away, we told the kids to stay put as we had some news.  Sophia was the one to tell them that she was going to have a baby so they would hopefully have a baby brother or sister in the New Year.

Eva was attuned to the language and quickly asked

“Why only hopefully?”

“Well, right now I’m pregnant, you know that word right? And the baby is very, very small, just developing and growing. And sometimes babies don’t develop right and so there isn’t a baby in the end.  Do you remember that happened to Ellie and Carl in “Up”? Hopefully everything will be just fine and the doctors and Keanu will be looking after me really well but I can’t promise you, OK?

“But I don’t want you to be sad like Carl and Ellie” Eva’s eyes had already filled with tears.

“Me either” Miguel whined.

I could see Sophia’s lip quavering too and swung into action, standing up and lifting first Miguel and then Eva to stand on their chairs which I pulled near to me.

“Come on Sophia, over here for a group hug.”

So we all stood together and hugged them close while I repeated what Sophia had said.

“We all want this little baby to come, I know and like Mom said, I am going to look after her and the doctors and you two too and everything should be absolutely fine, OK so try not to worry and just be super helpers to your Mom while she has all this work to do, looking after you two OK?”

They both solemnly nodded.

“Can we have a brother?” Miguel asked excitedly?

“Now that I definitely can’t guarantee!” I said laughing. You don’t get to choose if it’s a boy or a girl”

“What do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter to me one little bit – just a healthy brother or sister for you two.

The mood had lifted at last though I could tell it had been hard on Sophia.

 She Said

 After the kids had gone to bed, the tears I’d had to hold in when we were telling them about the baby flooded out.

“Tough huh?” Keanu said after I’d stopped crying and dried my eyes.

“You know it was less about the baby and more just their loss of innocence. It  reminded me of how I felt when my parents told me they were getting a divorce.  I guess it’s the moment when you realise life isn’t all candy bars and unicorns!”

“Yeah I know but look how strong and resilient you are now -  it was  tough but it will help them in the long run. A dose of reality isn’t necessarily a bad thing”

“Yeah but the look on Eva’s face broke my heart a little bit!”

“I know, but what a lovely, loving little girl - what she said about not wanting you to be sad like Carl and Ellie …..”

“Stop it, you’ll make me cry again!”

“Well that’s not hard!”

“Shudup you, you!”

“What?”

“You gorgeous lovely man, I guess!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithk’eanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles @bitchyslut99

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 23: Jake* Part One

Jake* and I had a romance that in the beginning felt very much like Romeo & Juliet, similar to the tragic Shakespeare play, it had a tragic ending. However, a lot less death in my version.

Ethan* and I actually reconnected for a short bit, about two weeks, strictly as FWB before downgrading it to regular friends without the benefits. We decided to help each other on our quests for finding relationships, and working together to improve our dating profiles. Although I had said to myself and my friends I wouldn’t return to the apps until after attending a friends’ wedding, I caved upon helping Ethan* with his love life, and behold, the apps were back on my phone a few days before I left for the wedding, though I wasn’t taking it seriously or being a “try-hard;” I left my accounts on pause or “don’t show me” most of the time.

It all started on Hinge with Jake*. I would not say Jake* was my type, but something spoke to me about him. The conversation started with a “Hey” from him, not super creative, and I usually make fun of people that on apps do this, I will literally call them out and be like “WOW YOU GOT ME” but this time I felt nice and decided to be a normal human being. Luckily, he was not a brick wall for conversation. He was out of town with family in North Carolina. That is one thing I like about Hinge, no matter where you are you can still search particularly at your home base, without having to buy the premium version of whatever of the app like the other ones do. He seemed spontaneous, as he described his trip as his mom coming by and saying hey we’re leaving you wanna come? What a life, I couldn’t imagine having that kind of freedom. 

I told him how I was about to leave for a wedding and would also be out of town. We got deep, quickly, and were very vulnerable with each other almost immediately. I apologized for being a bummer, but he said he was happy we were actually talking about things instead of superficial things. We continued to talk through the app almost constantly while I was still at the wedding. We decided upon meeting the next Wednesday since he was getting back from his trip Tuesday; I return on Monday. Along the way, I found out he was allergic to cheese. Like not lactose intolerant, fully allergic. I told some of my best friend and Ethan* about this, and jokingly they said it was a red flag and to abort. I went with the logic of “more cheese for me.” 

I got home from the wedding and Tuesday I found I was coughing a little bit. I got home from work and had a mild fever. I told him tomorrow we should do a virtual date. He asked how we would do that and I said Facetime if he had an iPhone. So I gave him my number and we had a silly text conversation before bed.

Classic. How could I not want to be with someone like this?

The next morning I woke up with an even higher fever and called off work. I check Instagram and find that the maid of honor from the wedding is also sick. I inquire and it leads to a whole investigation, excel document, and so on as we discover that 16 people (at least) are now sick. One person was rapid tested and it is COVID-19. I get myself tested at a local CVS that day. I tell Jake* about the story’s progression. We still have our Facetime date later and he says he would be happy to bring me anything if I need it. 

When I get my results a few days later, I officially have COVID-19. I’m told by the health department to quarantine 10 days after my symptoms started. My work requires that I be retested and receive a negative test before I go to work, so I plan to get tested on that day; Jake* and I also decided we will have a first date that day as well. 

I learn a lot about Jake* during my quarantine. We text almost constantly, that is when we aren’t Facetiming, which is also very frequent. We often would Facetime for literal hours. I learn a lot about him that scares me in a way, but more so that he has had a very complicated and violent childhood which led to not being a super upstanding citizen when he was a teenager. I was upfront and told him I was intimidated by this and we both said that misery is relative. 

As it does, after talking constantly for almost 10 days at this point, we did start to be sexual from afar, granted we still haven’t seen each other in person. He would say that he had a “shrimp” and talked about it so much that I started to take him seriously. I told him about my IUD, to which he responded with a very excited GIF. Again, slightly impressed that a man knows what it is, from my experience of men not knowing about female reproductive system, more on that later.

One day, we segued from sexual things to my tub backing up and that I needed Drano. Immediately he said he had some and would bring it over. I gave him my address and in less than ten minutes he appeared at my door. I knew I was a mess but it was the best day for me. We talked briefly through the window and I could see he was tall and skinnier than I thought, but still very handsome. His skin was so tan he looked like he could pass for being black. When it was time for him to go, we placed our hands together through the glass, the most contact we could have right now. He left and I was able to retrieve the Drano. It didn’t end up helping, but it was worth a go and definitely worth seeing him in person.

He told me that he was happy I wasn’t a catfish and that I still looked beautiful. Even with my sickness. After a full week of being sick, I started to feel better and almost normal. My cough decreased, my headaches were better, my fever had been gone since the first couple of days, and although I tired easily, I wasn’t constantly fatigued. I had chest pain and my heart just felt weird, I planned to see a cardiologist as soon as I was cleared. When it came time to be retested, I had high hopes and was so excited to be able to finally spend time with him. However, the world had other plans. I was able to get rapid tested, and unfortunately, I was still coming up positive and the doctor extended my quarantine another week. When I got to my car I called him (not Facetime) and told him what was happening and I cried. He comforted me and said that it would be okay.

In a way, it is lucky my quarantine was extended and that I needed to be retested, as the sickness came back again and a day later I was sicker. I gave him an out one day, I told him that when we matched we never expected I would be getting sick, let alone my quarantine lasting this long. I told him he didn’t need to wait for me, that I would understand if he wanted to see other people. 

He continued to say that he is the kind of person that doesn’t give up easily and wanted to stick it out. I was truly not trying to test him, I wanted him to be free if that was what he wanted, but he truly wanted to stay with me.

One night, my chest pain worsened and I was laying in bed, feeling truly like the brink of death was close, struggling to breathe. At midnight, I text him and say I’m scared. I’m afraid to fall asleep because I feel like if I go to sleep I won’t wake up. Always calm, he suggests I get some fresh air and go outside. I follow his idea and after five minutes of fresh air return inside. He continues to comfort me and say he is there for me.

I say I feel better and am finally able to go to sleep. 

We are still talking a lot, Facetime multiple times daily. I still don’t have feelings, but he tells me he likes me and is truly very sweet and cares about me a lot. There is one day where we just didn’t talk to each other yet that day, and he texts me, while I call him out for being “needy”:

One day during a Facetime he says “I feel like we’re never going to meet and you’re going to keep finding reasons to blow me off.” I legitimately got mad at the insecurity, he claims he is kidding. I tell him that that kind of attitude actually does piss me off. Although I am not head over heels with him, I definitely want to give it a chance once I can so I can see where it goes. He brought me things another time during my extended quarantine, a clove of garlic because I needed it for some food I was making and had none on hand. Unlike last time, he was on his way somewhere and was running late, therefore didn’t have time to linger around. I didn’t see him and had left my dog out in the yard for him to see, though at the time he showed up, she was hiding and he didn’t get to give her pats.

Days go by, and again I start to feel almost normal, for the second time in my illness. The day comes for my third test. I am terrified. I ask him what if I’m still positive and need to quarantine still. At this point, I’m completely out of PTO at work, in the negative actually, and honestly, my mental health is failing from the isolation. He tells me that I’m going to get a negative test today and to trust. Lo and behold, the negative test finally is here! I’m excited to return to my life, and to a greater extent excited to finally spend time with this man. 

We had tentatively planned a date that night, but now we could. I call him immediately after I get back to my car and we plan our first date. He asks if I’m going to be weird or awkward when we're finally in person. He claims that he is different in person; I tell him I hope he isn’t much different because I like the vibes I’ve been getting so far. Our first day occurred finally when we have been talking for 3 weeks. He says he’s on the way. I’m waiting and waiting. He’s in traffic. Jokingly, I repeat the line he said to me about us never going to meet. After all this time, the outs I gave him, it would be funny if after all this he stands me up. 

[all-things-skam]

I don't know if you've seen the theories in which Ander could be sick It’s a little bit angsty hahaha (This is after what Guzman told him) Where Ander is in class and suddenly he starts feeling very sick and a lot of blood comes out of his nose, while the teacher calls an ambulance, Guzman calls Omar and warns him of the incident Omar immediately runs to him and idk HAHAHHA Sorry English is not my first language I LOVE HOW U WRITE

hi since ander and guzman didn’t really ended the season on good terms…(that moment was so fucking devastating omg) can you write something where ander is very sad and guilty but guzman doesn’t forgive him. but then something bad happens to ander and he gives in bc he still cares about him? or maybe ander is dealing badly with losing his best friend (drinking excessively,drugs etc) and omar is worried and he talks to Guzman about it and after seeing ander like that he forgives him?

aloo! Id like for u to write a fic about Omar bing worried for ander health! Thank youx

-

Title: It’s just a nosebleed

Ship: Ander Munoz + Omar Shanaa (Omander)

_______________

Next time you faint I hope you smash your head and bleed to death.

The words resonated in Ander's mind, Guzman's voice colder every single times. They haunted Ander's mind days and nights, the only way to shut them up being to drink until oblivion. Cert, alcohol wasn't the way to numb pain, but Ander didn't care. He just couldn't bare to hear them over and over again.

Although he deserved it, losing his best friend has caused so much more pain in Ander's heart than he was willing to admit. Guzman was so much more than a best friend; he was a brother to him. But, brothers don't stab each other's back. Brothers don't hide huge secrets like that. Especially when it concerns one's sister assassin's identity.

He couldn't imagine the pain he had caused Guzman by not telling him the truth. How he must feel knowing that, for months, he had partied, shared a bed and gone to class with his sister's assassin like nothing had happened.

Ander hated Polo for telling him that ugly secret. He had commit utter betrayal by killing Marina. And, forcing Ander to secrecy, forcing him to take his secret to the grave, was the most cruel thing he could possibly do. Ander didn't want to know, he didn't want to be forced to know about Polo's crime. Yet, Polo's selfish self decided he had enough of carrying this secret alone - along with Carla and Christian - and told Ander.

Ander also hated himself for not having the balls to tell his best friend that their other best friend had killed Marina. He had chosen to play safe, trying to not lose any of them, but learned the hard way that playing safe isn't always the best choice. Now, because he had kept that same ugly secret to himself, Guzman had crossed him out of his life and there was no hope for forgiveness.

''I think you should slow down on the alcohol, don't you think?'' Omar suggested as he brought his intoxicated boyfriend home after his shift at the club, praying that Mrs. de Munoz was sound asleep.

She didn't know about her son's drinking problem. It would break her to see that Ander had turned to alcohol to cope.

Ander wasn't heavy, but Omar wasn't Mr. Muscle. It didn't help that he was half conscious, making him, by consequent, heavier. He was hanging on Omar's neck as the latter struggled to make it up the stairs. If only he could help himself a bit...

Omar sighed as he deposed Ander on his bed and removed his shoes. He was tired of this. He was Ander's boyfriend, not his babysitter.

As much as he wanted to talk to Ander about his drinking habits, he knew the younger one would deny any alcohol problems. But, at the same time, Omar couldn't continue keeping things bottled for both his and Ander's sake.

He'd be lying if he said seeing his boyfriend drowning himself into alcohol didn't hurt him. It broke his heart knowing that Ander was hurting so much that he had to numb his pain with alcohol.

A bittersweet smile on his lips, Omar sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Ander was sleeping soundly.

.

Ander sat behind his desk in class, filling his exam sheet when he felt something wet dripping on his face. Instinctively, he wiped it with the back of his hand and realized it was blood. He sniffled, thinking it would go away and stop, but, seconds later, blood started dripping on his exam sheet, creating a couple red splatters. Shit.

He alerted Mrs. Cortez of the bloody - pun intended - issue and she gave him permission to go to the bathroom to get tissues and clean himself.

Left hand covering his bleeding nose, Ander rose from his seat, the chair screeching on the tiled floor as he pushed it back. Maybe he stood up too fast or maybe it was because of the previous nosebleeds he got that week and the loss of blood was catching on him, but he suddenly started feeling light headed and drowsy. By reflex, he gripped the edge of the desk, fingers trying to grab at something to gain steadiness.

In the row behind his, Guzman lifted his head, furrowing his eyebrows at his old best friend's behavior. ''Ander?'' said Guzman's voice worriedly, ignoring the silence during exams rule. ''You okay?''

At the moment, Guzman didn't care that he and Ander weren't on speaking terms. He still cared about him deep down and, although he meant his words back then, seeing Ander on the verge of fainting had terrified him. When he had fainted at the Christmas party back in December, it was because of alcohol. Now, given that they were at school during exam week, it couldn't be that which worried Guzman.  

Ander didn't have time to answer Guzman's concerns that the latter was reaching out for him, grabbing Ander before he could fall and hit his head.

.

As Mrs. de Munoz got in the ambulance with her son, Guzman did what felt right and called Omar, informing him of the incident. If something like that had happened to Nadia, he would've liked to know.

.

When Omar made it to the hospital, he saw Ander's mom in the hallway. She seemed surprised, but not shocked to see him. On the contrary, she would have been even more surprised if he hadn't showed up.

Omar had been living with them for six months now and Azucena had grown very fond of him. Unlike Ander, Omar was a better help to the house. He knew how to clean, do laundry and cook - with guidance. He also deeply cared about Ander and she could sense it. His presence at the hospital was a proof.

As soon as Omar saw her, he gave a her a tight hug, knowing that they both needed it right now. ''What happened? Is he okay?'' Omar demanded, a little in shock. He pulled back, trying to search in her eyes for reassurance.

''He gave us quite a scare.'' Azucena took a breath, trying to control her emotions. ''He got a nosebleed and fainted in class. The doctor said it's iron deficiency anemia. We'll know more when he gets back with the results.''

When he got the call from Guzman saying Ander had left in an ambulance, Omar hadn't been surprised. He knew that if Ander continued not taking care of himself, something would happen. And, it did.

''Is he okay?''

She nodded and smiled at him thinly. ''You can go see him.''

.

Hand on the handle, about to open the door, Omar paused. He didn't know what to expect. Hospitals were never good news. They always gave him an uneasy feelings in his stomach. The last time he came to the hospital, his father had a heart attack and, when he glanced at him in the bed, he didn't look well. He was attached to wires and tubes and Omar felt sick. Although Ander's situation was less dramatic, Omar couldn't help but imagine the worse.

Exhaling a breath, Omar pushed the door and walked in. The room was dimly lit, the curtains pulled to make it easier for Ander to rest.

Having heard the door open, the younger one turned his head and pulled his eyebrows. ''Omar?''

His face was pale and he looked exhausted. There was an IV attached to his arm, giving him nutrients he was lacking from his alcohol diet. A part of Omar wanted to scream at Ander 'I told you so', but another part just wanted to pull him in his arms and thank the sky that he was alive.

Ander wasn't expecting to see Omar here. He thought he could get off easy and somehow hide this trip to the hospital from him, pass it off as some stomach bug. But, now that he was here, there was no point in lying. Omar had enough shit going on, the last thing he wanted was to get his mind preoccupied with this.

''Who told you I was here?'' he asked. ''I thought you were working today.''

Omar approached his bedside, huffling a small laugh. ''You're gonna have difficulty believing me, it's Guzman.''

Ander frowned, having difficulty to believe him. ''What? Guzman? I...'' He shook his head, denying the information he wasn't capable to process. ''Why would Guzman do that? He doesn't even care about me anymore...'' The last words caused Ander's voice to frail a little.

There was no way that Guzman would've cared. He made that clear when he spoke those cruel words to him the day they arrested Polo. As cruel as they were, Ander knew that he deserved them. He didn't deserve his friendship, he didn't even deserve Omar. He was such a shitty person, a shitty son, a shitty friend, a shitty boyfriend-

The heart monitor was starting to act up, the line making rapid jumps as Ander was getting worked up. Seeing this, Omar sat on the edge of the bed and cupped Ander's face with the other, fingers grazing his curls. ''Ander? Ander, look at me.''

If he didn't calm him quickly, a nurse would come in.

The younger one's eyes finally looked up, gazing into Omar's. ''Ander, baby...'' Omar held his gaze, trying to prevent his mind from going back to what he was thinking, what got him worked up.

Once Omar felt like Ander had calmed down, he sat on the small chair beside the bed.

''Do you know when you're getting out?'' he asked, changing subject.

''Hopefully soon. It'll depends of the test results.''

Omar nodded. ''I talked with your mom. She said there's a high possibility you have iron-deficiency anemia. I knew those nosebleed were serious. Especially when happening so frequently...'' He pushed his face in his hands, blaming himself.

Ander reached out, putting his hand over his boyfriend's forearm. ''You couldn't have known, Omar-''

''I should've worried more! Fuck. I could've prevented this if I hadn't left you drink so much alcohol.''

''Anemia has nothing to do with the drinking. I have a high carence in iron.''

''Still. Alcohol mustn't be good for you. Especially at the pace and frequency you're drinking.''

Ander looked down, admitting defeat.

Omar had kept his mouth shut for so long, but he had enough. What happened today scared him and he felt partly responsible for the incident. Maybe if he had spoke up instead of carrying Ander to his room every nights, he wouldn't have fainted in class.

''I get that you're hurt and sad because you lost your best friend, but life doesn't end because a friendship is broken. You've got to take care of yourself, Ander. I get that you lost an important person, but I'm here, and your mom is too. Don't you think it's hurting us to see you destroy your health? I haven't told your mom about your drinking habits, and I'm not going to, but I think you should reflect on it. I don't think she'd like to find out that her son is turning into an alcoholic.''

Ander's features hardened, jaw clenching at the harsh word. ''I'm not an-''

''You are! Alcoholics drinks every day and, since Christmas, there's not a day I haven't seen you without a drink in hand.'' Omar sighed, gaining control of his emotions. He didn't want to scream at Ander, he just wanted to get his point across. ''I'm not telling you this to hurt you. I'm telling you this because I care about you. Because I love you and I wouldn't forgive myself if something were to happen to you because I didn't intervene when it was still time.''

Omar's words put Ander into deep thinking. He didn't realize what was happening - not to this extent. He knew he was drinking more than he should've, but not this much. Maybe Omar was right. Maybe he was an alcoholic. The possibility brought tears to his eyes. Fuck. He can't fall into that rabbit hole. His parents had just finished signing the divorce papers, he couldn't do that to his mom. She had been through enough.

''I...I'm sorry. I didn't realize what I was doing. I just kept drinking and didn't think of the side effects of alcohol binge. I just liked not thinking about anything, forgetting the shit happening in my life,'' Ander explained, ashamed of himself.

Omar reached out and grabbed his hand, showing support. ''I know, but don't you think it's time to try another solution? Instead of trying to numb your mind to forget the sad stuff, why don't you focus on the happier stuff? Do things that make you happy to forget about the sad stuff.''

Ander nodded, liking the idea. ''Like what, though? I don't know if you've noticed, I don't have friends anymore.'' He let out a dry laugh.

''You have me,'' Omar reminded, nudging him. ''I could take a night off every week and watch movies together instead of going out? Or we could get dinner, just the two of us?''

''Netflix and chill?''

Omar snorted, cheeks flushed. Of course, that's what he's thinking about. ''If you want.''

''I'd like that. But, I don't want you to take days off for me. You need the money-''

Rolling his eyes, Omar sighed. ''One night off won't cut me that much money, Ander. And, you've been there for me when my father kicked me out, it's my turn to be there for you.''

Fair.

For a relationship to be healthy, one can't just give, give, give and never take. You have to accept your partner's help and stop thinking you're a bother. Omar wouldn't have offered to take a day off to spend time with him if he hadn't genuinely wanted to.

The curly haired one sighed. ''Okay.''

''What movie do you want to watch first? Your body is still weak from the blood loss and fainting, you should take it chill tonight.''

Ander nodded. ''It's been so long since we spent a night just the two of us. I miss it.'' He bit his lip, glancing at his boyfriend.

''I miss it too.''

Omar stood from his chair, reading Ander's mind, and leaned for a kiss that quickly became inappropriate for hospitals. Hands slid on each other's body as tongues slipped in, almost forgetting where they were.

A squeal escaped Omar's lips when Ander's hand squeezed his ass through the denim fabric, taking him by surprise. He broke the kiss, narrowing his eyes. ''What are you doing?! We're at the hospital. Your mom is right on the other side of that door.''

Ander shrugged, laughing.

[shadowluverworks]

Unforeseen: Chapter 6

A wet washcloth was laid on the black forehead that was quickly becoming warmer, warmer than usual anyway. The bat sat next to the fainted creature for a second before getting up and walking back to the office desk where the Commander sat. The blue hedgehog sat in a chair across from the human, looking rather distraught, though he tried to remain calm. The Commander’s office was nicer than the others, a larger room with a window that sat behind the mahogany desk. Two chairs that could belong in a living room, and a couch near the wall where a dormant black hedgehog lay. After he had lost consciousness, the blue hedgehog had carried him to the office they currently sat in while the Scientist returned to the lab. The Commander came with the bat and hedgehogs, making sure they behaved themselves until their comrade regained consciousness.

As the bat returned to her chair, the human continued their conversation, “You said Shadow wasn’t feeling well? How long has that been going on?” The agent crossed a leg over the other, “About a month. He insists he’s fine, but I know better.” The hero’s ears seemed to perk up slightly as the bat continued, “I tried to get him to do something about it, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I’m a bit surprised he actually passed out though, I’ve never seen him do that before.” Worry shown on her face as the man across from them sighed slightly, “Well, I asked the lab to do some blood work before continuing the research to see if we can find out what’s wrong. If he is ill, then that could affect the research as well.”

The man turned his attention to the hero, “As for you.” The hero flashed a nervous grin. “Care to tell me why you decided to trespass onto GUN property?” The accused scratched behind his ear, “I, uh, needed ta talk ta Shadow. Found out he was working here full time now with Team Dark, so I decided to come find him. Guess I shoulda waited ‘till he was done with work.” The Commander seemed to roll his eyes slightly, “You did come in handy today. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The hedgehog saluted with another grin, “Yessir!”

A soft groan sounded across the room as the black hedgehog shifted slightly. The bat was quick to return to his side, dabbing the sweat away from his head with the towel. After twisting slightly, the alien stilled once more. Peach hands twiddled helplessly. Wish I could take ‘im home. Nothin’ I want more than ta take care of ‘im right now, but I can’t just steal ‘im. Rouge’d kill me. Plus, I dunno if he’s said anythin’ bout us or not. Prolly hasn’t even thought about that night. He made it pretty clear he didn’t want me here. The minutes seemed to tick by in slow motion as they waited for the blood test to return. It had already been a few hours since he’d first arrived, and the black hedgehog had hardly moved since he had collided with the floor.

Finally, a knock at the door was heard from the side door, followed by the Commander giving permission to enter. The lab’s Scientist from before had returned along with a woman, also dressed up in typical lab attire. The human at the desk rose from his seat, “Ah, glad you could join us, Doctor. Have you discovered anything?” The Scientist gave a short nod, “We have.” He seemed to glance nervously at the other two occupants in the room. Sensing he was not welcome to hear, the hero stood and joined Rouge at the other side of the room as the Commander and the two new entries seemed to form a tight circle and talk amongst themselves.

Sonic tapped his foot impatiently, a little miffed at not being able to hear what concerned the black hedgehog. He mumbled quietly to the bat, “Not like we’re not his friends. I don’t get why they gotta be so secretive over there.” The bat’s ear was turned behind her as she swatted at the other a little, “Shhhhh! If you stay quiet I might be able to hear what they’re saying!” The hero quickly shut his mouth, lowering to where she knelt next to the black hedgehog. He waited, at least he tried. “What’re they sayin’?” The agent mentally rolled her eyes, “...something about...high levels of hCG...the Commander asked if they were sure...they also found evidence of...PAPP-A.” The blue eyebrows furrowed, “Wassat  mean?” Turquoise eyes met his, “Do I look like a Doctor to you?!” The other pouted slightly, before standing up and walking back towards the group as Rouge silently cursed at him.

His presence was immediately noticed and the conversation stopped. The Leader turned to him, “Can I help you, Sonic?” Said hedgehog wore a look of determination, “What’s wrong with Shadow?” The two humans glanced at their superior, as the bat stood beside the hero. The man shook his head slightly, “I’m sorry. This is very personal information, and I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you without Shadow’s permission.” Rouge stepped forward slightly, “Sir, as Shadow’s teammate, I believe I have a right to know whether he can still be a member of Team Dark or if he needs to be taken care for the time being. I’m the closest thing to family Shadow has.” The human put a hand to his head as if a bit exasperated, “While that may be the case, I still cannot disclose such information. It would be best for him to take some time off and rest. Can you bring him home?” The bat shook her head, “He doesn’t have a home, he’s been staying with me every now and then, but unless you give me a reason to keep him there he’ll leave again. If he’s as ill as it seems he should not be wandering the streets at night in the rain.” The multicolored eyes flipped from Rouge to Sonic, as if considering her plight. Rouge took the hero by the arm, “I’ll need his help too. I alone can’t keep Shadow somewhere by myself, I’ll need him to help me. Plus he’s his friend.” Sonic was grateful to be included, she must have noticed his worry when the other fainted, “I care about Shadow a lot, I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs.”

The man sighed, “I suppose while Shadow is still unconscious I don’t have much of a choice. Doctor, will you please explain?” The bat turned her attention to the woman. Her and Shadow were well known by the nurses and Doctors after their missions. Although Shadow for the most part resisted medical attention, Rouge had needed it several times. They had often conversed back and forth while her stay in the medical ward. Being told this news about her dear friend from someone she knew slightly more than her boss was well appreciated.

The Doctor stepped forward slightly, “We ran the blood test several times to confirm, but we know what’s plaguing Agent Shadow.” Rouge looked at her in worry, “Is he alright?! Is he sick?!” The woman smiled slightly to reassure her, “I know you care for him deeply, Agent Rouge. I assure you he’s alright. He just needs to rest. I want you two to keep an eye on him for the next week. Keep him in bed if you can. The important thing is that he gets the rest and nutrition he needs.” The bat’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “He’s never slept that long before. I never even saw him sleep before a month ago. He hardly ever eats either.” The hero crossed his hands behind his head, “He told me he doesn’t need ta do much of either. His chaos energy makes it so he doesn’t need ta eat or sleep like we do.” The Doctor nodded, “That’s true. Normally that would cover the essentials for his body. However, now he needs to be eating as well as resting regularly to keep his energy levels up. At least for the time being.”

The blue hedgehog’s furrowed his eyebrows as well, “Did somethin’ happen to ‘im? Why does he need ta do all this stuff now?” The woman seemed to hesitate for a second, “As I told the Commander, we found high levels of hCG in his blood, as well as evidence of PAPP-A.” Sonic was growing a bit frustrated, “Yea, yea, we heard. But we ain’t doctors, Doc. Wassat mean?” After getting confirmation from the Leader with a nod, the Doctor continued, “These particular chemicals are only found in pregnant women.”

For several minutes the bat and hedgehog simply stared at the humans. It was as if time had stopped for a while. Finally, the blue legs could not continue to hold up their owner, and he wobbly moved backwards into a chair, “Th-That’s not possible!” The Scientist shrugged, “I ran the blood multiple times to be sure it was not contaminated. Apparently, there’s more to Project Shadow then we had originally thought. If we were able to properly examine Shadow, we might have been able to discover this sooner. Or the possibility of it.” The blue hedgehog was starting to almost hyperventilate in panic, his mind running rapid, “B-but...he said...he told me that...” The bat simply stared in shock. How is that possible?! I never thought that he could...I thought he was still a virgin! Who did he... Her short locks whipped in the air as she caught eyes with the hero, “...you...What did you do?!” The hedgehog looked as shocked as her, “W-What?! I-I...” The bat walked up towards him, pointing a finger at his chest, “It was you! A month ago when he showed up at my house drenched and acting strange...he had been with you!”

The humans looked on at the spectacle before the Commander spoke, “Sonic, is this true? Are you the father?” Said hedgehog began to sway slightly, looking a little faint. “Oh, no!” The bat grabbed the peach face, slapping his cheeks a bit, “You don’t get to pass out too, you have too much to explain! Plus, I need you to carry Shadow!” The fear of making her even more mad than she already was snapped the blue hedgehog awake. The Commander ran a hand through his short gray hair, “Why don’t you three head home. It’ll give you some time to...work things out. The Doctor will be available if you need help; just call.”

Taking his advice, the hero was able to steady himself enough to stand, and picked up the dormant alien hybrid. Rouge nodded, “Thank you, sir. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  "Wait." The Doctor stopped them, handing Rouge a set of papers, "Show Shadow these. It's his blood results on paper. From what little I know of him, he seems to be someone who'll need to have proof." The spy took the papers, looking them over. It was all Greek to her, all sorts of terms and names she had never heard of. But she took the Doctor's advice, storing the papers in her pocket, "Thank you." The bat led the pair out of the room and down the hallway. When the door closed, the Commander was able to let out a breath he’d been holding. This new revelation was going to make things involving Team Dark a bit more complicated from now on.

After long twists and turns in the long hallways, the three mobians finally made it to the outside world once again. Sonic’s smile was a bit less enthusiastic as before, but still sincere, “Thanks Rouge. I’ll take him home and make sure he gets some rest.” The bat’s face was stern, “No. You both are coming with me. Shadow will be more comfortable if he wakes up in familiar surroundings, and you have a lot of explaining to do in the meantime.” His ears flattened a bit. Shadow was right. She is like a mother when she’s mad. The hero knew there was no way out of it and let out a little sigh, “Yes, Rouge.”

[ghostbustermelanieking]

POLAROID AU is simply amazing!!!!! And I need moreeeeee! Pretty please! It is wonderful!!!! :)

part five

part one, part two, part three, part four

They’d ended up at a near-abandoned hotel, a result of half theworld’s population being incapacitated. (Once, at the lengthy time they’d spentat William’s birth parents’ house, one of the few TV channels still running hadbeen giving reports of the dead, and Lillian had shuddered and turned it off.It could’ve been so, so, so much worse. But it was bad. There was no denyinghow bad it was.) The hotel was an empty, still-lit Holiday Inn with ricketyvending machines and eerie hallways. But the lights still worked. Lillian andToby sat on one of the beds and ate snacks from the vending machine. Theydidn’t talk because they weren’t sure what to say.

William came in from the door between the rooms. (Mulder andScully were on the other side.) “Hi, sweetie,” Lillian said, false cheery,brushing aside a crumpled Doritos bag.

“Hey, Mom,” he replied, flopping on the bed in the typical teenageway he’d picked up over the past couple of years. He seemed to have gonethrough a rapid maturity in these past few weeks, but there were things abouthim that kept reminding Lillian that he was still a kid, still her baby. Shewondered how Dana must be feeling.

“How’s Dr. Scully?” Toby asked from beside her. He seemedgenuinely concerned, something that kept surprising Lillian: his receptivenessto William’s birth parents.

“Fine. I told you. I fixed it.” William was fidgeting, picking atthe edge of the comforter.

“You healed her,” Lillian supplied. She couldn’t believe it, butshe could. Her son. She remembered the sickly baby bird they’d taken in whenWilliam was six, the one she’d been sure had died, that Toby had gotten rid ofbefore William could find the body. She’d nurtured her son’s insistence thatthe bird had flown away, not wanting to upset him. It wasn’t until years laterthat she brought it up and Toby said he thought she’d taken care of it all thattime. It looked like they were both wrong. All this time, and she’d never known.He’d never told her.

William cleared his throat, crossing his legs. “Yeah. I did.” Hegulped, unraveling a thread on the hem of his t-shirt.

Lillian bit her lip. She had to believe it; she’d seen Dana’s car,and while it wasn’t too bad, there was no way she could’ve walked away withoutat least a few bruises. “I just don’t understand why you’ve never told us,” shestarted.

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“Of course we’d believe you,” said Lillian, although she wasn’tsure. “You’re our son. It’s our job to believe you.”

William shrugged, staring at his knees.

“How long have you…” Toby motioned vaguely.

“I dunno. As long as I can remember.”

“Does it… hurt?” Lillian asked. Her chest ached at the thought ofall these years of her son healing wounds and moving things with his mind allthese years, alone.

William shook his head quickly, a faint blush spreading across hischeeks.

“Do you know where they…” Toby cleared his throat awkwardly,unscrewing the cap on his Mountain Dew. “Do Dr. Scully and Mulder know howyou…”

“I think so. We haven’t talked a lot about it. Scully mostly justtold me about stuff that happened after she had me. I think, um. I think itmight be related to the people who went after Scully today,” William muttered.

Lillian swallowed. She stood and approached the bed, smoothing hishair. “Oh, sweetie,” she whispered.

William fidgeted, shifting back and forth on the bed. “Scully saidshe gave me up to keep me safe,” he said quietly. “But I think they would’vefound me either way.”

Lillian kissed his temple and sat on the bed beside him. She woulddo anything for him, she thought. Anything at all.

“It sounds like Mulder and Scully have been through a lot,” Tobysaid uneasily.

William nodded emphatically. “They have.”

They verged off into silence. William accepted the candy bar Tobytossed him and began chewing in silence, cellophane crackling under hisfingers. Lillian stared at the patterns in the rug. “Will you be safe now?” sheasked the red swirls and the blue border.

William started. “What?”

“Will you be safe now? I mean, they went after Dana today, right?Miss Reyes said that they might’ve gone to Mulder and Dana’s house, that’s whywe’re here. Are you safe here? With Mulder and Dana?”

She looked up when William didn’t say anything. His hands werepressing into his knees and his face was so white she could count all of hisfreckles. “I’m gonna go take a shower, Mom,” he mumbled.

“Will…” she started, but he was already standing and heading intothe bathroom. Lillian watched him go, a lump forming in her throat. She wishedthe world had never ended, that they’d stayed in Wyoming. William had a historytest coming up. She could help him study.

“I know this is hard, Lil,” Toby started, from the bed.

She turned to look at her husband, curled on the bed. The lumpgrew bigger. She brushed aside some snack foods and curled up beside him, herhead on his shoulder. “It’s more than hard, hon, and you know it,” shewhispered, hands pressing into his chest. “I know you’re having trouble, too.You’re a good actor, but I know this is hard for you, too.”

Toby kissed her cheek. “Of course it is. I don’t think I expectedanything different.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly, smoothing herhair. “But they care about him, Lil. You know they do. And honestly, sweetie,I’m not sure if he’s any safer without them. Remember what Monica told us atMulder and Scully’s house? How the people she’d been undercover with werewatching him? He might be safer with them.”

Lillian sniffed, her nails scraping over the buttons on his shirt.“I just don’t want to lose him,” she said. “In any way. I don’t want him todie, and I don’t want him to…” She took in a sharp breath. “To choose them overus.”

It had been her fear ever since Monica had shown up on theirdoorstep, since William had crawled on her lap at age seven in pajamas and wethair and asked about his birth parents. William had told her he’d never leavethem behind on the plane (“You’re my mom,” he’d said, voice rising as it becameclear that her condition was worsening along with Toby’s, “you’re always gonnabe my mom.”), but that was before he’d met Mulder and Dana. Before he’d spentweeks in their house playing with their dog and reading their old files and watchingStar Wars with them. Before he healed Dana on the side of the road.Before he’d spent the past hour with them.

Toby stiffened in her arms. “Oh, hon,” he said softly. “He won’t.He won’t do that. He’s our son.”

“He’s their son, too,” Lillian said, even though she’d read allthe adoption books, raised William from nine months old. “They love him. And hedoesn’t know them well, but he likes them a lot.”

“I know,” Toby mumbled. “I know. And I think… I think that’s okay.But he’s our son, Lillian. That’s never going to change. We’re all he knows,and he loves us. Three weeks doesn’t erase fourteen years.”

She sniffled, kissed his shoulder and rested his chin on it. Theylay there together in silence until the water turned off in the bathroom.

William padded into the room a minute later, crawling into bed.“Long day, huh,” said Toby faux-cheerfully.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered.

“Will, I’m sorry,” Lillian tried. “I shouldn’t have said thatstuff in front of you. You’re still just a kid…”

“It’s okay, Mom,” said William, and he smiled a little at her. (Itlooked exactly like the repressed smile she’d seen on Dana a few times, Lillianrealized with a pang.) “I get worried too, you know? You and Dad getting sickwas… scary.”

It was scary for her, too; it felt like the entire world wasfalling apart. She had called to check on their family back in Wyoming as soonas she was well enough. The virus had been shipped out there quicker than sheexpected, and while her mother was still unconscious and Toby’s sister wasstill in critical condition, things were still looking up. Casualties were highin every city around the world, the news had said; they could’ve been a lotless fortunately. (Selfishly, Lillian was just glad her son was immune. He’d besafe no matter what.)

“I know, son,” Toby was reassuring him. “But you did good. You dida good job.”

William bit his lower lip. “I know,” he muttered. “I didn’t havemuch of a choice.” He flopped back on the bed, burrowing in under the coversuntil they could barely see him. “Good night, guys,” he said with a certainamount of finality. I am done for tonight.

Lillian could understand that. She liked to talk about things, gether feelings out in the open (under normal circumstances at least), but Williamwas closed off, preferred holing up in his room, long, moody silencespunctuated by snapping at whoever tried to talk to him, insisting he was finewhen he clearly wasn’t. She knew what he was doing and she wasn’t going topush. It had been a long day, and she was tired of talking.

“Good night, Will,” she replied, flipping off the lamp and curlingunder the comforter next to Toby.

—

The first time Monica had shown up on their doorstep, Toby hadbeen unable to move out of bed and it had taken a lot of effort for Lillian toget up. William had been puttering nervously around the house, digging throughmedicine cabinets and trying to get a signal on his phone or an Internetconnection. “I called Caleb, he said his parents were sick, too, and he feltshitty, but the call got cut off before we could finish,” he babbled in thedoorway to their room, clutching his phone in his hands. “We have some flumedicine, but I, um, I don’t think this is the flu, Mom.”

Lillian coughed sharply, tucking blankets tighter around them.Toby was hotter than an oven and unresponsive, face coated with sweat. She wasfreezing, shuddering with chattering teeth. She was wearing three sweaters andfour quilts piled over them and she still wasn’t warm. She couldn’t rememberthe last time she’d been this scared. “I don’t think it’s the flu,” sheconfirmed.

“How are you feeling? Any better?” Will’s fingers clenched tighteraround the phone when he saw Lillian shake her head. “I’m worried aboutGrandma,” he stammered. “Should I go check on Grandma? I can take the car, I’vedriven on the farm before, remember, and I’ll get my permit in a few months…”

“No, baby,” Lillian murmured. She shoved at pillows and scooteduntil she was sitting upright and could look her son in the eye. He was tall,taller than she’d expected when he was so small. At least he’s not sick, shethought, and almost smiled. She hoped Toby would pull through along withWilliam, if no one else, but she knew he’d put their son first, too. “It’sokay. Calm down, sweetie. There’s nothing you can do.”

William grew even paler, and he shook his head rapidly. “No,that’s not true, Mom,” he said desperately. “There’s gotta be something.”

She was ready to shake her head and reassure him again, but theknock on the door came first. William’s eyes lit up. “That could be Grandma,”he said eagerly. “Or Aunt Milly, or Jack… Or help, maybe. Mom, I’ll be rightback.” And he scrambled out of the room, feet pounding the floorboards.

Lillian didn’t know who it was, but she had a feeling it wasn’ther mom or Toby’s sister. She managed to get out of bed–slowly and sluggishly,but still–and padded across the floor and down the stairs. By the time shereached the living room, she’d spotted the rain-soaked dark-haired womanstanding in the front room with William. William’s brow was furrowed, his armswrapped around himself. She didn’t recognize the woman.

Lillian coughed, rasped, “Who are you?” at them.

The woman turned, hair slipping over her shoulders, and offeredLillian a small smile, presenting her with an FBI badge. “My name is MonicaReyes,” she said. “I’m here to help you.”

“Mom, sit down,” William said, rushing at her.

Lillian let her son lead her to a chair, not taking her eyes offof Monica Reyes. “Who are you?” she asked, reaching out to grab herson’s elbow. “Why are you here to help us?”

“I knew William when he was a baby,” said Monica calmly. “I knowwhy he isn’t sick.”

William didn’t react; his jaw was set in a way that suggested he’dalready heard that. “Wait, a-are you his… his birth mother?” Lillian stammered,holding her son’s arm tighter. (Her son, a petulant voice in her headdeclared. Her son.)

“No,” Monica said quickly. “But I know his pa–his birth parents.His birth mother is also immune. This virus… she’ll need William’s help to comeup with a cure.”

“A cure?” Lillian asked. “William?” Her son, how could he be thesavior of the world?

William clenched his jaw tighter. “Th-these people,” he addressedMonica. “They can help my parents?”

Monica looked past him, to Lillian. There was something in hereyes that Lillian couldn’t read, but it was something like pity. “Yes,” shesaid softly.

“Okay, then we’ll come with you.” There was finality in William’svoice, a maturity. Lillian started to protest, but he turned to face her andwhispered, “Mom, we have to.” He gulped. “For Dad. For you.”

She’d wanted to protest more, but there didn’t seem to be anotheroption. Monica Reyes had a badge, and she said she could help. William wasdetermined to do it. There didn’t seem to be another choice, and she was tooweak to argue. Monica had a plane. She loaded Lillian and Toby onto it andhooked them up to IVFs. William sat across from them, fidgeting as he looked atthem nervously. Lillian was tired, but she stayed awake long enough to discussthings with her son. His eyes were full of fear, anxiousness rocketing throughhim. “I’m going to meet my birth parents,” he mumbled at one point. “I’vethought about this since I was little, but now… I’m terrified.”

She had reached across the space between the seats and squeezedhis hand. “Don’t be scared,” she said, reaching out with her other hand andsmoothing his hair. “They’re going to love you, baby.”

She’d fallen unconscious later and woken up in a strange guestroom. William was there, beside a red-haired woman who had his eyes. She’dknown all at once. She couldn’t help thinking, Life will never be the same.

The second time Monica Reyes showed up on their doorstep, Lillianwas expecting it. She was brushing her teeth with the toothbrush they’d liftedfrom behind the front desk when she heard the door open. “Hey, Mom, Miss Reyesis here!” William called.

“It’s Monica, William, really,” Monica was saying with someamusement in her voice as Lillian came out of the bathroom. “Hi, Mrs. Van deKamp,” she added.

(Everyone here called her Mrs. Van de Kamp, like she was a teacheror a CEO or something. She made all of her friends in Wyoming call her Lillian.But then again, she wasn’t sure she could count these people as friends, couldshe.)

“Hi, Miss Reyes,” Lillian said, tucking her hands in her armpits.“What’s going on?”

“We’re meeting in the lobby to figure out our next move,” shesaid. “The best way to keep Will safe.”

William bounced back and forth on his toes, nervous. “Is Scullyokay?”

“She’s fine, William, don’t worry.” Monica reached out andsqueezed his shoulder, smiling gently. “You did a good job, kiddo.”

William muttered something of thanks uncomfortably. Lillian rubbedhis arm before saying, “We’ll be there.”

Monica thanked them before moving on, her hair slipping over theshoulders of her suit jacket. William closed the door behind her and proppedhis elbow up on the door frame, resting his cheek on his arm. “I wonder whatthey think our next move should be,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure it’s going to be something to keep you safe,” Lillianreplied evenly, adjusting her sweater cuffs.

“Figures.” Will cleared his throat, bouncing back and forth on hisheels.

“That’s the most important thing,” she said, a slight edge to hervoice. “To all of us.”

“I know,” he said, the same edge to his voice. He fiddledwith the chain lock on the door. “We’ll go when Dad gets out of the shower.”

“Right,” she said, and her voice grew husky with emotions shecouldn’t place. “Right.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?” She was already turning around to check and see how many ofthe news channels were up.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Startled, she turned toward her son. He looked lanky and awkwardagainst the door, bony wrists poking out of his Pink Floyd shirt and jeans tornfrom the altercation yesterday. “What do you mean, Will?”

William’s face was white, tensed as he stood in front of her. “I…never mind. It’s nothing,” he said tightly.

“Will, honey…” she started, but Toby came out of the bathroombefore she could finish.

He looked between them, eyebrows raising. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” William said in a rush. “Monica wants us all to meet,Dad. Decide our next move and… and whatever.”

“Okay,” he said lightly. He was still looking between them, tryingto discern the problem. “Lil?”

Lillian let out her breath with a whoosh. “It’s nothing, hon. Youready to go?”

“Sure, just let me get my shoes on.” He brushed her shouldercomfortingly as he passed.

William was still staring at his shoes. He may have been half afoot taller than her, but he looked very small at the moment. “Will,” shewhispered. “Will. You can talk to me, you know.”

He gulped. “I know, Mom.”

—

Dana looked a lot better than she had last night, if slightly offkilter. She offered William a smile when they entered, and William smiled back,in the same awkward aura he’d had about him since they’d all met. Mulder lookedat Lillian and Toby worriedly before reaching out and patting William on theshoulder. Lillian tried to nod her dissent, but she was sure that it lookedstranger than probably intended.

Monica Reyes had no problems with awkwardness, of course; “Well,”she said as they all sat at the abandoned continental breakfast area, “there’sa couple of things I’ve been considering that I’d like to discuss with youall…”

“I think William should go with Mulder and Dana,” Lillian blurted.

The whole table sort of froze. Mulder and Dana were staring at herwith incredulity, some sort of quiet awe. Maybe something like gratitude.William was staring, too, and she couldn’t read his look. She couldn’t seeToby’s face. She swallowed, awkwardly, and wiped her palms on her pants legs.“I-I mean, just until this is over,” she said, stilted. “I mean. We’re nottrained FBI agents… and you can keep him safe, right?” She addressed William’sbirth parents directly.

Dana was paling, fidgeting in her seat as her eyes traveled fromLillian to William to Mulder and then back to William. Mulder cleared histhroat. He was looking at William, too. (William was looking at nobody; hisneck was red behind his hair, and Lillian could tell he was embarrassed.) “I… Ican’t make any promises on whether or not Will would be safe with us,” saidMulder. Dana was holding his hand, under the table, and Lillian wondered whoelse had noticed. “But… I can promise you we’d do anything in the world to keephim safe. Anything.”

They were both looking at William. Lillian swallowed and looked atthem. She didn’t know what to say. Under the table, she felt Toby take her handand squeeze it. “That’s all we can really ask,” he said.

Lillian looked at William. He was fidgeting anxiously, picking atthe hem of his t-shirt. “William?” Dana asked softly. “What do you think?”Lillian reached out and rubbed his back.

“I… whatever you guys think is best,” William mumbled. “I’ll dothat.”

Lillian kept up the easy motion of her hand along her son’s spine.She felt terrible for the position he was in. The position they were all in.

Monica cleared her throat, and everyone’s attention shifted toher. “That fits in with one of my plans,” she said. “We can put you intowitness protection programs, make sure you’re hidden well. But I think the bestcourse of action is to make sure you’re well hidden.”

“Couldn’t we all stay together?” William croaked. Lillian’s handstilled, but she didn’t pull away. Dana and Mulder were looking at him again.He squirmed slightly, fingers tapping on his knee.

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” said Monica. “We want to throw themoff guard, and I think they’ll expect us all to stay together. I think the bestway to keep everyone safe is to make them think you went home with yourparents. Meanwhile, you’ll be hiding out with Mulder and Scully until it’ssafe.”

“And there’s measures being taken to make it safe?” Mulderasked, sounding slightly irritated.

“Of course, Mulder, we’re working on it. We just want to takeevery precaution, considering what happened yesterday,” Monica said quickly.

William was already shaking his head. “Bu-but what about Mom andDad? Won’t they be in danger if they think I’m with them?”

“I’m making sure the Syndicate thinks you all will be headed home,but they’ll be posted somewhere else. With protection,” Monica said gently.“Everyone will be okay, I promise.”

William was tensed under her hand. He nodded stiffly.

“So they’ll think William’s with us,” Toby said. “They won’t knowwhere he is.”

“That’s definitely the hope.”

He squeezed her hand again. “I think that sounds like the best plan.”

It stung like hell to hear it. She didn’t want William to leave.She wanted to know he was safe, to be able to protect him herself. She didn’twant these strangers to die for him. But when she looked at Mulder and Dana, atthe determination (the love) in their eyes when they looked at him. They hadguns. They were trained FBI agents. They could take care of him. She forcedherself to nod, her hand in Toby’s and her other hand on William’s back.

—

They had the arrangements made. Lillian and Toby were leaving inthe afternoon. Mulder and Dana leave for a safe house with William the nextnight. William was back in the room, lying on his stomach on the bed andflipping through a book he’d found behind the front desk.

Lillian was watching him out of the corner of her eye from theedge of the other bed. He’d barely said anything since they left the lobby.“Will?” she asked softly. “Are you okay?”

He started, looking over at her. “Yeah, um.” He sat up, shiftingto face her. “I. Just.” He swallowed, brushing hair out of his face. It hadbeen nearly a month since she’d trimmed his hair, and it was growing overlong.“I can't… I can’t leave you and Dad.”

“Oh, honey.” She reached out and smoothed the cowlicks at the backof his head. “Honey, it won’t be forever.” She could pretend the idea ofWilliam going with them didn’t kill her. “It’d just be while it was dangerous.You’d come back to live with us.” She wouldn’t let anything else happen. He wastheir son.

“No, I know, it's…” He sighed, eyes closing, and shifted away fromher. “I like Mulder and Scully, and I don’t want anything to happen to them.But.” He gulped, staring at his ragged sneakers. “You and Dad… if I leave, Iwon’t be there to protect you.”

“You’re not supposed to protect us; we’re supposed to protectyou.”

“You don’t have the… you can’t do what I can.” He gulped. “And I…I like Mulder and Scully. A lot. I want to get to know them, and I want them tobe safe, too. But you and Dad…” He ducked his head, fingernails digging underthe loose threads of his jeans. “I’m so scared that if I leave you, I’ll neversee you again.”

Tears burned in Lillian’s eyes. “Oh, Will.” She leaned across thespace between the beds and hugged him and he didn’t resist. He rested his chinon her shoulder and embraced her tightly. They hadn’t done anything like thissince he was twelve, when Toby was in the hospital and they were both terrifiedout of their minds. “We’re not going to die,” she said softly, although shedidn’t know. God, Toby; she knew he’d die for Will, but she didn’t want to losehim either. She wished they could turn back time, go back to the way life hadbeen before. “It’s going to be fine.” William sniffled, once. “You should getto know your birth parents if you want to. You’ll be safe with them.” She blinkedhard and tried not to think about dying. “And you’ll be home before you knowit.”

“I know,” William mumbled. He hugged her tighter before pullingback. “Those FBI agents who helped Dana… they’re coming with you, right?”

“Yes,” she said. The male one was about William’s height and had asimilar hair color; they were planning on lending him William’s clothes andhoping he could pass for their son from a distance. “We’ll be okay.” Sheruffled his hair.

William cleared his throat, wiping his eyes. “Okay.”

Someone tapped on the door, and they both jumped. The door swungopen and Toby poked his head in. “Hon? They’re ready,” he said quietly.

Lillian blinked again, swallowing hard against the lump in herthroat. “Okay.” She brushed her hand over William’s head as she stood up. “Areyou gonna be okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He stood, too, and hugged her again. Shepressed her nose to his head like he was six again and going to spend a weekwith Toby’s parents in Oregon for the first time by himself. I’ll see himagain, she told herself. I will.

He kissed her cheek and muttered, “Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, William.” She smoothed his hair once and smiledat him. He went over to Toby and hugged him, too. Toby kissed the top of hishead before tousling his hair. William shrugged him off and smirked, punchinghim in the arm.

“Be good,” Lillian said, trying to sound stern. “Mind your mannersand don’t make trouble for Mulder and Dana.”

“Mom, I won’t.” He was almost rolling his eyes, and it feltso normal.

“I know.” She smiled again, watery. “We’ll miss you. Be safe.”

“You, too,” he said.

She kissed his forehead before turning and heading for the door.Toby gave a little wave, and William waved back. She smiled stubbornly untilthe door closed behind them. Toby’s fingers were pressed into the skin of herupper arm; he drew them down, across her palm until they were intertwined withhers. “He’ll be okay,” he whispered.

Lillian sighed. “I hope so.”

“Mrs. Van de Kamp?” They turned and there was Dana behind them,coat loose over her shoulders and hair drawn back in a braid.

“Hey,” Lillian said, rubbing her thumb over Toby’s. “It’s Lillian,really.”

“Right.” Dana cleared her throat, smoothing her shirt under thecoat. “I just wanted to tell you… we’ll keep him safe. We’ll bring him home toyou.”

Lillian gulped. She wasn’t sure how she felt about these twopeople, William’s birth parents, but there was sincerity in William’s eyes. Shecould trust them with this. “I know,” she said.

[superteenwolftrash]

You saved me/Scott McCall Smut

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01) Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Super sad, Super cute, Super fluff, Super Smut, and Super Angst!

I walked down the hallway with once of my best friends, Lydia Martin. I stopped when I saw my boyfriend and Scott, I've known those boys my whole life. I went up to Stiles with a smile on my face, although he didn't seem to smile until he saw Lydia. I raised a brow and looked at Scott who seemed to have the same reaction but brushed it off. "Are we still hanging out later?" I ask. "I can't today." Stiles says as he just kinda shrugs, he's been a bit off lately. I blame it on the stress he's under, with School and the Supernatural the boy barely finds time to sleep. I couldn't tell but feel a bit disappointed. "I'll see you later then." I said quietly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before waving goodbye to Scott. "What's up with him?" I asked Lydia who followed closely. She didn't answer so I looked over at her, "Oh maybe he's just tired?" Lydia suggested and I nodded in agreement. "I don't know, Lydia. These past few weeks something's been off, do you wanna hang out later?" I asked her, she stopped in her tracks. "I wish I could but I uh, I promised my mom that I'd help her with something." She explained, "Okay well just text me later then, yeah?" I ask and she nods before we both go out separate ways. I dug through my bag looking for my keys, I let out a sigh when I felt the familiar metal against my hand. I pulled my keys out but they quickly fell out of my hand onto the pavement of the school parking lot. I stood up, pushing the hair out of my face only to be met with Scott. "You scared me!" I said with a small laugh, "Sorry, I thought you heard me." He said, "Not all of us have supernatural hearing." I said, causing a small laugh to fall from his lips. "What's up?" I asked, as I unlocked my car. "I have to talk to you about something." He stated, I had a feeling I knew what it was about. "Stiles?" I asked and he nodded. "Get it." I told him and he got in the passengers seat as I got into the drivers seat. Before he can start I start babbling on, "What's going on with him? I mean he's be acting so weird, he says it's nothing.-" I say, "Y/N-" Scott tries to talk but I just keep going. " But it's very apparent that there's something wrong. Why won't he tell me?" I ask, Scott let's out a sigh. "Stiles is my best friend, but so are you. I can't keep this from you anymore-" Scott starts to explain but then my phones rings. "It's Stiles." I think aloud, immediately pressing the answer button. We all had this rule that if someone called, no matter what we were doing we'd answer. I went to say 'Hello' but someone was already talking, I looked at Scott and I put the phone on speaker. "She doesn't have your shiny, strawberry blond hair. Or your gorgeous green eyes, she's not you." I heard Stiles's voice say, and then I heard Lydia's distinct giggle. Scott quickly grabbed the phone from my hand and hung up, I couldn't even comprehend what was going on. I glanced across the lot and I saw them, they were in his jeep, they were laughing. The flung my door open, despite Scott's calls for me to stop. I felt like I was on fire, my mind was racing, everything was a blur around me. At this point everyone else had left and the only people left in the parking lot were Stiles, Lydia, Scott, and I. Stiles must've heard Scott yelling for me before he and Lydia quickly scrambled out of the car. "Y/N we-" Stiles started but I cut him off, "You what? Are you gonna tell me that you were just taking Lydia home? Even though her car is right there? Or are you gonna tell me that I don't have her shiny strawberry blond hair? Or her gorgeous green eyes?" I seethed. "Or were you gonna tell me something completely different?" I asked, I saw Stiles look to Scott. "We were going to tell you." Lydia said quietly, my head snapped to her. "Were you? When? After he strung me along like an idiot? You're my best friend! How could you do this? The both of you?" I asked looking back and forth between the two people that I had trusted more than anyone. "We're sorry." Lydia muttered, "Are you? Or are you sorry that you got caught?" I asked, shaking my head. "Y/N come on. Let's go!" Scott said, taking my hand in his softly pulling my away from them until I followed him. We got back to my car and i watched as Stiles took off in his jeep and Lydia in her car. I leaned against my car door with my head in my hands, "What the fuck is going on?" I asked, looking up at Scott. He had such a look of sadness on his face, as if he was just as sad as I was. "I never wanted you to get hurt." Scott whispered, taking my hands in his. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly, as I sobbed against his chest. "I've been in love with you since first grade." Scott whispered, almost so quietly that I barely heard it. I pulled away just enough to look at him, "What?" I choked out. "You never saw me." He added, Scott watched me fall in love with his best friend. "Stiles is my best friend, but he never deserved you." Scott said, causing me to swallow thickly. "Scott I-" I started but I was cut off by his lips on mine. I don't know if it was because of my emotional state or what but I didn't pull away, I kissed him back. I kissed him back with as much passion as he used to kiss me, my mind was blank. At that exact moment that Scott's lips were against mine I forgot everything. I felt this feeling before and it was when I kissed Stiles, did that mean I was in love with Scott? I felt my lungs begging for oxygen, every memory of Scott and I flashed in my eyes. Scott he was- he was always there. I finally pulled away, I didn't dare look into Scott's eyes. I stared at his swollen pink lips, "I have to go." I said quickly getting into my car, not giving Scott a chance to stop me. "Y/N wait!" He shouted as I drove away. I needed to think about what the hell just happened, as I drove my phone began to blow up. I pulled into my driveway and I saw that familiar blue jeep, with Stiles leaning against it. I hesitantly got out of my car, I felt physically sick looking at him. "Please Y/N listen to me." Stiles spoke, the sound of his voice made me want to throw up. "What could you possibly say to me?" I asked, trying to hold back the tears forming in my eyes. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you but-" He started but cut him off, "But what?" I asked, "It's always been her. It's always been Lydia." Stiles whispered, if you listened close enough then you could've probably heard my heart shattering. "Has it?" I asked, my voice cracking as I did. I pulled the ring that Stiles had given me off, "Do you remember giving this to me?" I asked holding out the ring, he didn't say anything. "You gave this to me the first time you told me you loved me, it was the night that I had my first time!" I reminded him, "It clearly meant nothing!" I sobbed, throwing the ring at him. "Don't you ever speak to me again!" I shouted, slamming the front door of my house shut. The next few months were hard to say the least. Lydia tried to talk to me but I didn't budge, I became close friends with Malia. Things got better with the help of Scott, he didn't leave my side. We hadn't talked about the day that we kissed at all, he acted as if nothing changed. But something did change, my feelings for him. The pack meetings were very weird and uncomfortable, Stiles and Lydia stopped seeing each other all together. With the amount of time Scott and I spent together people thought we were a couple. We all had to come together when Theo started his rival pack, unfortunately Theo also saw the way Scott cared for me so that's why Theo took me. So here I am, he somehow put me in Eichen house. On the floor that contained all the supernatural's because it was harder to get into. The doctor had done so many horrific tests on me, I was basically- scratch that. I am catatonic, I don't know what's going on around me all I know is that I'm in pain. I could hear everything but it didn't process, I heard a lot of commotion although that wasn't unusual in this place. Before I knew it my body was being lifted up, it was gentle at all. When I felt the claws piercing my throat I became all too aware of everything. I saw Scott, Stiles, and Liam in front of me, and I saw it was Theo's claws in my throat. "Don't you hurt her!" Scott shouted, "Oh come on you surely can't care for her too much. You left her unprotected and it was just too easy for me." Theo teased, my breathes were rapid. "You know he'll kill you!" Liam shouted, "I doubt that innocent McCall could do that." Theo smirked, "Last words?" Theo spoke, digging his claws deeper, I cried out in pain. "Stop!" Scott yelled, "I- I saw you!" I said quickly, Scott raising a brow. "You thought that I didn't see you, you thought that it was always Stiles. But it wasn't, Scott. It was you, it was always you!" I stuttered out, I saw Stiles's face drop as did Scott's. "How sweet." Theo spoke, digging his claws deeper and then I just passed out. My eyes fluttered open, the brights lights burning my eyes. "She's up!" I heard a voice, as my eyes became less and less blurry. I wasn't in a hospital, the animal clinic? "He had to do it." Deaton spoke, "Do what?" I asked, confused. I sat up and I was surprised that I didn't feel any pain. I reached my hand up to my throats and there was nothing there, not a single mark. I quickly jumped off the table to take a better look in the mirror. The pack rushed into the room, they didn't say a word as I examined my throat. "Why don't we leave them alone." Deaton said, leading the pack out, everyone besides Scott. "It was the only way to save you." Scott whispered, I looked over to him. "You turned me?" I asked, as I swallowed thickly. He nodded and it took a second to process but once it did I quickly made my way over to Scott, I wrapped my arms around his neck and I pressed my lips against his. I felt Scott tense up when I kissed him, but it only took half a second for him to kiss me back. I felt his hands grab onto my waist, "Wait." Scott mumbled as he pulled away. "You aren't mad? You don't hate me?" He asked me. I shook my head gently, "You saved me, Scott. You did that." I whispered. A smile formed on his face as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss became very heated very quickly, I assume that it was from all the built up feelings between the both of us. We didn't even bother telling the rest of the pack before we left. We barely made it to Scott's house before we were ripping each other's clothes off.    Scott tossed me down onto his bed, causing me to bounce slightly. Scott quickly made his way on top of me, his lips smashing against mine. His hands trailed down my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Scott's lips just barely touched my neck, he brushed his lips along my chest. I hooked one of my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. I cupped his face and pulled his lips to mine, that's when he thrusted in. My hands quickly moved to his back and my nails dug right in there. I felt something happening to me, I glanced at my hand and I saw claws. I looked up at Scott who's eyes we're bright red. It was no doubt that I was hurting him, but somehow I started feeling the pain and I saw Scott look a bit surprised. I was taking the pain I was giving him, he continued thrusting in. My other leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against me. "Oh my god!" I moaned out, Scott growled as I felt his thrusts becoming more sloppy. My hand moved up and tugged on his hair, his tongue pushed past my lips. A moan vibrating throughout my lips, not long after both of us were cumming. Scott laid with his chest pressed against my back, "Why won't they go away?" I ask, referring to the claws coming out of the tips of my fingers. "They will. I'll teach you." He said, kissing my shoulder.

[shootingstarcipher-blog]

Stardust (Chapter 2 - A Hundred Lies)

But peace and bliss for the two of them could only ever last so long and just as he’d dreaded, his mother awoke at the worst time possible. He knew because of her shouts. A short nap had restored some of his energy and when his eyes flew open he found his best friend curled up beside him, a defiant look on his face, while his mother glared coldly at the two of them. “You! Tozier boy! Get out!” she practically screeched, resulting in her son jolting awake in horror. “You’re making him sick!”

Richie eyed his best friend’s mother lazily, grabbing Eddie’s hand with the utmost nonchalance and refusing to move. He didn’t seem to comprehend the seriousness of her words, like he thought that she wouldn’t remove him by force if it came to it. Eddie gripped the older boy’s hand in return and shyly asked his mother to let him stay for a little longer. They were lucky because, before she could get up and throw him out the room as she longed to, a doctor in his traditional long white coat sauntered into the room, instantly putting an abrupt end to their incessant squabbling.

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” the dark-haired doctor smiled, standing at the foot of Eddie’s hospital bed while his patient nodded in agreement as his friend hastily slipped out from between the sheets, perching on the edge of the bed, their fingers remaining interlocked. “Your test results are in and…”

“And?” Mrs Kaspbrak interrupted sharply, leaning forward in her seat enthusiastically.

“You’re fine, Eddie,” the doctor continued, speaking as though she hadn’t said a word. “Everything’s normal. You’ll be able to go home today.”

Richie’s gaze was fixed on his friend’s expression – half-relieved, half-shocked – but then he caught a glimpse of Mrs Kaspbrak’s and had to stifle a laugh. She looked utterly appalled. He gave Eddie’s hand a slight squeeze, reassuring him that although his mother looked as if she was about to murder someone, he was there for him if he needed him. His mother insisted there must have been some sort of mistake, that her son was weak and delicate and begged them to keep him in at least another night and for them to conduct more tests because they must have gotten it wrong the first time, but the doctor refused to acknowledge her pleas, telling her quite plainly that while mistakes were sometimes made, there was absolutely nothing physically wrong with her son.

During the ongoing argument between Mrs Kaspbrak and the doctor, Richie took the opportunity to whisper into Eddie’s ear without being noticed by his friend’s eternally-resentful mother. “You know you just have a crush on someone, right? That’s what’s wrong with your heart. It does that.” He pulled back immediately, smirking when Eddie stared at him with wide eyes.

Unfortunately, Mrs Kaspbrak seemed to have heard him. “Don’t be so disgusting!” Her shrill cry cut off the doctor mid-sentence and a couple of nurses hovered in the doorway, looking on with intrigue. “He’s a child! Maybe you have feelings like that, Tozier, but not my little Eddie.”

No-one seemed to notice when Eddie rolled over onto his side, buried his head under the blanket and started to cry quietly, the constant arguments between the two most important, influential people in his life filling him with a tormenting sense of distress that overpowered any sliver of positive emotion he had left within him. Eventually his mother was carted out of the room on the grounds that someone needed to speak to him alone, though the doctor didn’t explain what that was about. He made Richie leave too, except he didn’t go kicking and screaming like he’d promised.

That made Eddie cry harder and he still didn’t stop when a tall, professional-looking blonde woman strode into the room and sat down in the chair where his mother had previously been sitting. She pushed her dainty round glasses further up her nose – a painful reminder of the fact that Richie was no longer there – and checked whether he was indeed Eddie Kaspbrak (something which he decided a lot of people seemed to be doing that day) and went on to introduce herself as a psychiatrist. Apparently, she needed to see him because of his persistent symptoms of anxiety, to which he suggested that anyone who was as controlled by a strict regime of medication as him would be just as anxious as he supposedly was.

She started asking him questions about his home life and he immediately began to shut down, refusing to answer any of them. He had stopped crying by now and had wiped his tears away, but when she asked whether he was happy at home the feeling of his tears gathering at the corners of his eyes returned and it took every ounce of strength and courage he had to hold them back as he nodded his head, reluctant to speak. He was happy at home – sometimes. But other times he wished his mother wasn’t so protective, even though he knew she was only doing it because she cared, and that she wouldn’t disapprove of his friends so much.

In fact, what he hated most about his mother’s possessive behaviour was how she often insisted that nobody besides her truly cared for him. He thought it was because she didn’t approve of his friends but sometimes she was so obstinate on the subject that he was starting to believe that none of them – not even Richie – actually liked him, that they were only pretending to out of pity. The Losers’ Club accepted anyone, but they didn’t truly accept him – and only allowed him into the group because he had no-one else to turn to.

Catching sight of the tears he was so desperately trying to hide, the psychiatrist closed her notebook, stood up and declared that their short session was over because he was obviously struggling, though Eddie was bemused as to the fact that their momentary encounter had indeed been a “session”. She reached across and handed him a small appointment card which stated that they would have another session in a week’s time, and told him he could get ready to go home.

He found his mother waiting for him outside the room. She smiled at the sight of him and, at her request, he hugged her (albeit half-heartedly) and kissed her on the cheek. As they headed towards the exit, she launched into a series of questions about what had gone on in the room while she had been made to sit outside and he answered all of them, each one with a vague lie, and in usual circumstances he would have felt guilty but at this particular moment he was too distract by his hopeful search for Richie.

Even as he climbed into the car, about to leave for home, he was still searching for Richie. And he was still having no luck whatsoever with his pursuit.

“I saw you looking for him.” His mother’s words sliced through the air the minute they stepped into the house, chilling him to the bone. For a second he glanced up at her, perplexed and shocked by her proclamation. “That Tozier boy,” she spat, as if she really needed to explain. “I sent him home,” she said proudly, depositing herself onto the sofa and patting the seat next to her, like she was expecting him to sit down beside her.

He didn’t, only scowling in response. “That doctor said there was nothing physically wrong with me. Doctors know what they’re talking about.”

She shrugged it off, still insisting that they’d made a mistake with his tests. “You know you’re delicate, Eddie. They know it too. He was probably just trying not to scare you – only I tell you the truth all the time. I’m the only one who cares enough to be honest with you, Eddie.” She was about to say something about his friends – he could feel it – but he cut her off before she had the chance to start.

“You lied to me. You’ve been lying this whole time,” he growled, teeth gritted and bared like a feral animal. “Am I even sick? Do I even need these?” He snatched up the bottle of pills he’d been carrying around for years, launching them across the room in a fury.

She continued to deny everything, repeating that only she was honest with him and that everyone else were the liars until eventually he couldn’t bear to stand there and listen to her anymore, at which point he stormed out dramatically – though his stomps didn’t make as much noise as he’d hoped, giving that his body was smaller and lighter than that of an average boy his age – and locked himself in his room, not even coming out when his mother shouted him for dinner.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to think or feel anymore. Maybe no-one did like him, but if that was true, then why did Richie hurry to the hospital to see him in the middle of the night? Why did he even answer his call?

His thoughts quickly turned to the last words Richie had spoken to him – his explanation of his rapid heartbeat. Though his mother clearly disagreed, it was possible, he supposed, that his perpetual obsessive thoughts of his closest friend and the way his heart raced when they entered his mind (as it was doing at that exact moment) could be explained by the simple notion that he was developing strange, foreign feelings for him. But he hoped to God that it wasn’t true. He couldn’t have feelings like that for another boy – that was wrong; his mother had taught him that long ago.

He could feel his face burning, his cheeks turning red as he tried to focus on something else – anything else. As far as he was concerned, the longer he went without thinking of Richie, the better.

So he took out a pen from his nightstand drawer, perched on the edge of his bed and started drawing on his arm until his entire forearm had become a forest of reddish flowers. He was feeling much calmer by the time he’d finished, so calm in fact that when his mother knocked on the door a few minutes later he answered it (though he kept his arm hidden behind his back), choosing to face her rather than continue hiding.

“Eddie,” she said sympathetically, though anyone would have realised there was nothing genuine about her kindness, tilting her head onto one side as she gazed down at him. “You need to come out and eat. You know how weak you are.”

He scowled at the floor and disregarded her last notion entirely. “No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”

He attempted to shut the door then but she kicked out her leg just in time, her foot getting caught between the door and the doorframe. “You can’t hide in there all day, Eddie.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “Are you still taking your pills? There’s another-”

He pushed her foot away using all the strength in his own and slammed the door shut before she could finish that thought.

[shadowluver1242]

Unforeseen

CHAPTER 6:

A wet washcloth was laid on the black forehead that was quickly becoming warmer, warmer than usual anyway. The bat sat next to the fainted creature for a second before getting up and walking back to the office desk where the Commander sat. The blue hedgehog sat in a chair across from the human, looking rather distraught, though he tried to remain calm. The Commander’s office was nicer than the others, a larger room with a window that sat behind the mahogany desk. Two chairs that could belong in a living room, and a couch near the wall where a dormant black hedgehog lay. After he had lost consciousness, the blue hedgehog had carried him to the office they currently sat in while the Scientist returned to the lab. The Commander came with the bat and hedgehogs, making sure they behaved themselves until their comrade regained consciousness.

As the bat returned to her chair, the human continued their conversation, “You said Shadow wasn’t feeling well? How long has that been going on?” The agent crossed a leg over the other, “About a month. He insists he’s fine, but I know better.” The hero’s ears seemed to perk up slightly as the bat continued, “I tried to get him to do something about it, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I’m a bit surprised he actually passed out though, I’ve never seen him do that before.” Worry shown on her face as the man across from them sighed slightly, “Well, I asked the lab to do some blood work before continuing the research to see if we can find out what’s wrong. If he is ill, then that could affect the research as well.”

The man turned his attention to the hero, “As for you.” The hero flashed a nervous grin. “Care to tell me why you decided to trespass onto GUN property?” The accused scratched behind his ear, “I, uh, needed ta talk ta Shadow. Found out he was working here full time now with Team Dark, so I decided to come find him. Guess I shoulda waited ‘till he was done with work.” The Commander seemed to roll his eyes slightly, “You did come in handy today. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The hedgehog saluted with another grin, “Yessir!”

A soft groan sounded across the room as the black hedgehog shifted slightly. The bat was quick to return to his side, dabbing the sweat away from his head with the towel. After twisting slightly, the alien stilled once more. Peach hands twiddled helplessly. Wish I could take ‘im home. Nothin’ I want more than ta take care of ‘im right now, but I can’t just steal ‘im. Rouge’d kill me. Plus, I dunno if he’s said anythin’ bout us or not. Prolly hasn’t even thought about that night. He made it pretty clear he didn’t want me here. The minutes seemed to tick by in slow motion as they waited for the blood test to return. It had already been a few hours since he’d first arrived, and the black hedgehog had hardly moved since he had collided with the floor.

Finally, a knock at the door was heard from the side door, followed by the Commander giving permission to enter. The lab’s Scientist from before had returned along with a woman, also dressed up in typical lab attire. The human at the desk rose from his seat, “Ah, glad you could join us, Doctor. Have you discovered anything?” The Scientist gave a short nod, “We have.” He seemed to glance nervously at the other two occupants in the room. Sensing he was not welcome to hear, the hero stood and joined Rouge at the other side of the room as the Commander and the two new entries seemed to form a tight circle and talk amongst themselves.

Sonic tapped his foot impatiently, a little miffed at not being able to hear what concerned the black hedgehog. He mumbled quietly to the bat, “Not like we’re not his friends. I don’t get why they gotta be so secretive over there.” The bat’s ear was turned behind her as she swatted at the other a little, “Shhhhh! If you stay quiet I might be able to hear what they’re saying!” The hero quickly shut his mouth, lowering to where she knelt next to the black hedgehog. He waited, at least he tried. “What’re they sayin’?” The agent mentally rolled her eyes, “...something about...high levels of hCG...the Commander asked if they were sure...they also found evidence of...PAPP-A.” The blue eyebrows furrowed, “Wassat  mean?” Turquoise eyes met his, “Do I look like a Doctor to you?!” The other pouted slightly, before standing up and walking back towards the group as Rouge silently cursed at him.

His presence was immediately noticed and the conversation stopped. The Leader turned to him, “Can I help you, Sonic?” Said hedgehog wore a look of determination, “What’s wrong with Shadow?” The two humans glanced at their superior, as the bat stood beside the hero. The man shook his head slightly, “I’m sorry. This is very personal information, and I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you without Shadow’s permission.” Rouge stepped forward slightly, “Sir, as Shadow’s teammate, I believe I have a right to know whether he can still be a member of Team Dark or if he needs to be taken care for the time being. I’m the closest thing to family Shadow has.” The human put a hand to his head as if a bit exasperated, “While that may be the case, I still cannot disclose such information. It would be best for him to take some time off and rest. Can you bring him home?” The bat shook her head, “He doesn’t have a home, he’s been staying with me every now and then, but unless you give me a reason to keep him there he’ll leave again. If he’s as ill as it seems he should not be wandering the streets at night in the rain.” The multicolored eyes flipped from Rouge to Sonic, as if considering her plight. Rouge took the hero by the arm, “I’ll need his help too. I alone can’t keep Shadow somewhere by myself, I’ll need him to help me. Plus he’s his friend.” Sonic was grateful to be included, she must have noticed his worry when the other fainted, “I care about Shadow a lot, I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs.”

The man sighed, “I suppose while Shadow is still unconscious I don’t have much of a choice. Doctor, will you please explain?” The bat turned her attention to the woman. Her and Shadow were well known by the nurses and Doctors after their missions. Although Shadow for the most part resisted medical attention, Rouge had needed it several times. They had often conversed back and forth while her stay in the medical ward. Being told this news about her dear friend from someone she knew slightly more than her boss was well appreciated.

The Doctor stepped forward slightly, “We ran the blood test several times to confirm, but we know what’s plaguing Agent Shadow.” Rouge looked at her in worry, “Is he alright?! Is he sick?!” The woman smiled slightly to reassure her, “I know you care for him deeply, Agent Rouge. I assure you he’s alright. He just needs to rest. I want you two to keep an eye on him for the next week. Keep him in bed if you can. The important thing is that he gets the rest and nutrition he needs.” The bat’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, “He’s never slept that long before. I never even saw him sleep before a month ago. He hardly ever eats either.” The hero crossed his hands behind his head, “He told me he doesn’t need ta do much of either. His chaos energy makes it so he doesn’t need ta eat or sleep like we do.” The Doctor nodded, “That’s true. Normally that would cover the essentials for his body. However, now he needs to be eating as well as resting regularly to keep his energy levels up. At least for the time being.”

The blue hedgehog’s furrowed his eyebrows as well, “Did somethin’ happen to ‘im? Why does he need ta do all this stuff now?” The woman seemed to hesitate for a second, “As I told the Commander, we found high levels of hCG in his blood, as well as evidence of PAPP-A.” Sonic was growing a bit frustrated, “Yea, yea, we heard. But we ain’t doctors, Doc. Wassat mean?” After getting confirmation from the Leader with a nod, the Doctor continued, “These particular chemicals are only found in pregnant women.”

For several minutes the bat and hedgehog simply stared at the humans. It was as if time had stopped for a while. Finally, the blue legs could not continue to hold up their owner, and he wobbly moved backwards into a chair, “Th-That’s not possible!” The Scientist shrugged, “I ran the blood multiple times to be sure it was not contaminated. Apparently, there’s more to Project Shadow then we had originally thought. If we were able to properly examine Shadow, we might have been able to discover this sooner. Or the possibility of it.” The blue hedgehog was starting to almost hyperventilate in panic, his mind running rapid, “B-but...he said...he told me that...” The bat simply stared in shock. How is that possible?! I never thought that he could...I thought he was still a virgin! Who did he... Her short locks whipped in the air as she caught eyes with the hero, “...you...What did you do?!” The hedgehog looked as shocked as her, “W-What?! I-I...” The bat walked up towards him, pointing a finger at his chest, “It was you! A month ago when he showed up at my house drenched and acting strange...he had been with you!”

The humans looked on at the spectacle before the Commander spoke, “Sonic, is this true? Are you the father?” Said hedgehog began to sway slightly, looking a little faint. “Oh, no!” The bat grabbed the peach face, slapping his cheeks a bit, “You don’t get to pass out too, you have too much to explain! Plus, I need you to carry Shadow!” The fear of making her even more mad than she already was snapped the blue hedgehog awake. The Commander ran a hand through his short gray hair, “Why don’t you three head home. It’ll give you some time to...work things out. The Doctor will be available if you need help; just call.”

Taking his advice, the hero was able to steady himself enough to stand, and picked up the dormant alien hybrid. Rouge nodded, “Thank you, sir. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  "Wait." The Doctor stopped them, handing Rouge a set of papers, "Show Shadow these. It's his blood results on paper. From what little I know of him, he seems to be someone who'll need to have proof." The spy took the papers, looking them over. It was all Greek to her, all sorts of terms and names she had never heard of. But she took the Doctor's advice, storing the papers in her pocket, "Thank you." The bat led the pair out of the room and down the hallway. When the door closed, the Commander was able to let out a breath he’d been holding. This new revelation was going to make things involving Team Dark a bit more complicated from now on.

After long twists and turns in the long hallways, the three mobians finally made it to the outside world once again. Sonic’s smile was a bit less enthusiastic as before, but still sincere, “Thanks Rouge. I’ll take him home and make sure he gets some rest.” The bat’s face was stern, “No. You both are coming with me. Shadow will be more comfortable if he wakes up in familiar surroundings, and you have a lot of explaining to do in the meantime.” His ears flattened a bit. Shadow was right. She is like a mother when she’s mad. The hero knew there was no way out of it and let out a little sigh, “Yes, Rouge.”

[runthejoint-blog]

Investigation and diagnosis



The road to Paris


When I awoke at about 2am on the morning of May 4th, it wasn’t in excitement and anticipation that I was just a few hours later going to embark on the feat of endurance that is cycling from London to Paris within 24 hours as part of Challenge Sophie’s annual event. No, I awoke in agony with crippling pain in my right hand. I couldn’t form a fist without shooting pain and instantly felt a wave of anxiety flood over me. Not only did I wonder what was wrong with me, but I felt an immense sense of panic. How the hell was I going to cycle 200 miles with limited use of one hand? I was not just worried about the pain, more how would I handle the bike, grip the handlebars, and most importantly brake! I jumped out of bed and ran down to the kitchen to consume pain killers and anti-inflammatories and find a Rapid Ice to stick my hand into.



A few hours later Tom and I were on the train bound for the start line at Blackheath. The train was packed; standing room only, with our bikes precariously packed into the overcrowded carriage and my face crumbling in pain every time I was forced to grab the hand rail to hold on. I decided the best strategy was to keep moving my hand to avoid it seizing up further and gradually over the course of the day the pain abated.

Once the ride got underway the concern about the pain began to lift (in part because it did), mainly as we were confronted with unbelievable weather for the first May bank holiday weekend - torrential rain, followed by vicious hail and our fair share of strong winds - it was going to be challenging I appreciated, particularly as this was a last minute decision for me to join the ride, and had done no training, but this turned into a harrowing four hours on the first day. What on paper should have been a straightforward, and by our standards easy ride, was proving far from it. 



Arriving at Newhaven heralded an enormous sense of relief, the chance to consume copious amounts of carbs (a favourite hobby of mine, and probably the one I excel at the most) and most importantly change into clean and dry kit and begin the next challenge of drying out shoes and staying warm, not to mention trying to sleep on the five hour ferry crossing.



The morning of May 5th began in earnest with us joking that the predicted bad weather was nowhere to be seen. Gathering before dawn to start pedalling again, there was an atmosphere of sleep-deprived, good-natured hysteria. Little did we know that within seven miles the first freezing cold rain would begin, quickly followed up with a chaser of yet more ice-cold and truly vicious hail. Thank goodness we were part of a peloton of 120 riders who had made a pact to cycle the first 30 or so miles to breakfast as a group. Yes, it meant the pace was slower than maybe we would have liked given the conditions, but I genuinely don’t know if either of us would have kept going if we’d done this as an independent duo - we’re tough, but this reduced even the hardiest of riders to teeth-chattering wrecks (personally I blame the previous year’s participants, including Tom, for bitching about how they endured the start of the 2018 heat wave). At the breakfast stop (after what seemed like an eternity of riding) Tom and I stuffed as much food and coffee into ourselves as possible and tried to get warm (an impossible task, it turned out). I genuinely wondered if we should continue, I was particularly worried about Tom with his lack of corporeal padding, but on we went and eventually we made it to the Eiffel Tower with time to spare - 37 minutes to be precise. It had been hard, the weather and fatigue had been a challenge, but all pain had evaporated, or at least been replaced with the general ache of long days in the saddle and the effects of having been unbearably cold.

The road to diagnosis


I forgot about this weird hand pain and continued on my merry way, enjoying an immersive new job and putting my ever-growing tiredness down to spending nine hours a day at a desk staring at a computer screen, and my lifestyle transforming overnight from relatively active to largely sedentary. And then it happened again. About two weeks after the first attack, I was once again seized in the middle of the night by the same pain - overtaking my hand and wrist. It remained for the next 48 hours or so before my left hand began to hurt, although along the edges of my palm and wrist rather than the fingers and knuckles of my right hand. It struck me, it must be carpal tunnel. I knew it was something that tends to get progressively worse before you often need to resort to a surgical fix. A request for diagnosis from a couple of doctor friends over a drink in the pub one night, confirmed my Google self-diagnosis.

Sitting 36 hours later in a consultation room with a locum GP he told me it definitely wasn’t carpal tunnel and instead it sounded more like arthritis. He proceeded to unsuccessfully try and print off a request for blood tests and a prescription for anti-inflammatories to keep me going until the results came back. His inability to work the printer and the fact he didn’t agree with my Google-formed opinion (or that of my friends) instantly made me decide that I couldn’t trust this opinion (another doctor friend has since told me he is one of the best doctors around!). I am 29 years old, eight weeks away from my 30th birthday. I cannot have arthritis. So I duly trotted off to St Richard’s for a blood test the following Tuesday, and cracked on with the day to day.



Within 48 hours I received a phone call from the surgery; my usual GP would like to see me to discuss my test results. It didn’t need to be an urgent appointment, I was told, and so I assumed that the results had returned nothing and further investigation was needed. Nearly two weeks later I endured a 40 minute wait to see the Dr and safely ensconced in her office, she broke the news I had least expected to hear, and wanted to hear even less. At the age of 29 and now six weeks before my 30th birthday, the blood results showed I had arthritis. The tears came quickly, yet silently and trickled down my cheeks as it dawned on me what this could mean. My lovely, warm-hearted, good-humoured GP who has counselled me through so much over the past six months and has seen me transformed from an anxiety-ridden shell unable to speak back to a smily, bouncy, positive person told me not to get ahead of myself. Yes, it was highly unlikely I would be able to run the ultra-marathon I had only a couple of weeks before set my sights on. Yes, it was now a case that I would be medicated for life and have to practice damage-limitation to avoid any further degeneration of my joints. But, I could cycle, I could swim, do yoga, pilates and consider diet adaptions to keep the inflammation under control. The two of us quickly established that it was best for her to refer me to the rheumatology department at our local NHS hospital, but also to see a consultant who practised at the local private hospital so that I would know where I stand sooner rather than later.



You see, yes I can cycle. Cycling is in fact seen as one of the best activities for those living with arthritis. But is the cycling I choose to do going to be encouraged. Is powering up a 15% hill as hard as I can ok? Is putting everything into a sprint to beat my big brother to the coffee shop ok? How about a 2 week long endurance ride akin to the LEJOG challenge I completed last summer going to ruin me, or make me thrive? How about a week climbing in the Alps, Dolomites or Pyrenees? Or a 24 hour endurance challenge such as the one I completed when this whole sorry saga began? 

For those who know me even a little, they know that physical challenges are how I survive life. How I feel truly alive. Challenging myself physically, not knowing if I’ll complete it until the last millisecond, that is how I not only get my kicks, but keep my anxiety and greatest fears at bay and build confidence and belief in myself; something that only a few months ago had been eroded to non-existence. We often see such challenges and achievements as something to be celebrated; a sign of mental toughness as well as physical toughness. The other day someone who has endured hundreds if not thousands of miles pedalling next to (or more accurately in front of me) sent me a message saying: “you tend to push yourself very hard physically. I’ve observed many people in this regard, and your intensity is among the very best (worst?) I’ve seen.” Suddenly, someone whose opinion I had valued so much and who had always made me think that this commitment was a good thing, made me re-evaluate myself. Had I pushed too hard? Had I broken myself? Was I to blame for this?

Today, almost six weeks to the day since my symptoms began and five weeks before my 30th birthday, I met by consultant, Sanj. After he quizzed me on my symptoms, he came up with the analogy of me recounting my experience so far as akin to a Beatles song coming on the radio (familiar and instantly recognisable to him): there was no doubt in his mind that I had  inflammatory (or rheumatoid) arthritis. Again those silent tears sprung a leak. I guess I had this hope that he would disagree with the GP, say it was a one-off virus and nothing to worry about. No such luck, the exhaustion I feel is genuine, the pain in my elbow is not all in my head, it’s in fact totally swollen, the excruciating pain I have in my shoulder today is really there, and yes, it is why I feel physically sick - I’m a classic case; not worrying unnecessarily, I will feel like crap right now and it’s right I feel anxious and fearful for the future. He had a clever knack of giving me as much information as he felt was necessary but knew not to overload me or what could wait until we met again. I won’t know for another couple of weeks what the long term treatment will be, or what my most recent test results will suggest in terms of prognosis, but I do know that it will be a case of adaptation, ‘disease limitation’ and living life by evaluating truly how I feel each day. It might mean that sometimes the best laid plans will fall to pieces at the last minute, or I may even complete an unplanned challenge on the spur of the moment because I feel good. And that is going to be my biggest mental barrier to overcome. It’s ok to not put yourself under pressure every weekend to get out and put yourself through gruelling challenge, after gruelling challenge - I just need to remember that during my lowest moments.

How often do we say, “Oh I want to do that one day”? Make that day today, you never know what is round the corner. I thought I had years to enter Paris-Roubaix, the Tour of Flanders, cycle the Highland 500, run a marathon, run that ultra-marathon, cycle from the Channel to the Med - suddenly I am a lot less sure.



Keep this in mind: One day I will not be able to do this, today is not that day, but tomorrow could be. Don’t waste a day.


[captain-swan-coffee]

Royal Pains: The Announcement

This will be a multi chapter fic that takes place eight months into their marriage. It will take you through the incredible journey of Emma Swan and Killian Jones pregnancy. It will be full of love, tears, joy, and of course a little smut;) Should be updating soon!

Chapter 2 and  3 and 4!

Rated M

You can find more of my work on Ao3 and FF!

Her whole body hurt. It was like Emma couldn’t get a break. Dealing with the town, being the sheriff, and handling what ever crisis had arrived in between. Being ill was not going to work for her full time schedule. But per her family and Killian’s request she has been ordered to bed, and to stay there.

Of course she didn’t go down without a fight saying that David needed help at the station. David solved that problem. Emma’s now husband is acting deputy, helping out until Emma is back on her feet. Killian argued at first saying that he needed to be there at home to take care of her. It was sweet of him, but she wasn’t ten. She could take care of herself.

Emma did love how her father and Killian were getting along again. There had been some bad blood for a while, but it seemed to have worked itself out as she thought it would. It was even David’s idea to have Hook stay on as a permanent deputy, saying that had extra money in the budget to bring him on part time.

Emma hoped that she would only be gone for only a day or so, but it had been almost a week of this shit. She could barely keep any food down, her body ached, and her temperature was elevated for the majority of the day. And then, like night and day she was better. Just like that, like nothing happened. Emma was back to work and life went on as usual.

Her father and husband were on patrol while Emma and her mother were getting weeks worth of paperwork caught up. They were carrying on normal motherly daughter conversation. Talking about married life and how Henry was doing in school when Emma sensed a familiar feeling deep in her gut. She dropped the files in her hands and booked it to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

“Emma honey, are you alright?” Snow worried through the door.

“Damn it! I thought I was done,” Emma whined, walking back towards her mother, using her sleeve to wipe her mouth. She felt truly disgusting and probably looked worse. Her mother rushed to the sink, grabbing a glass of water and quickly handing it to her.

“Thanks, mom,” Emma groaned as she took sips from the glass. For some reason even water made her nauseous. How did this just come out of nowhere? Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s rapid pacing. Emma wanted to stop her before she drilled holes into the stations floors. They most definitely did not have the budget for that.

“Mary Margaret? What’s wrong? It’s just a flu bug. I’m sure I’ll be fine it just hasn’t passed yet,” Emma explained, attempting to calm her worrying mother.

“Emma, did you, well, how long ago,” Snow stumbled, trying to get the words out.

“When’s the last time I what?” She replied, now genuinely curious.

“Emma, when’s the last time you had your period?” Her mother blurted out with an embarrassed half smile.

“What? My period? Why?” Emma awkwardly laughed. Why the hell would her mother care about something like that? Snow just stared expecting an answer.

“Um well it was the night of Henry’s student teacher conferences. I remember specifically embarrassing Henry by talking about it on the car ride there,” Emma recalled, still questioning her mother’s serious face. A smile crept onto her mother’s face. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, leaving wet trails falling to the floor. Emma stood up starting to say something, but Snow pulled her in tight still sobbing.

“Emma, teacher conferences were on November 3rd,” Snow grinned, wiping away a few stray tears from her eyes. Emma just looked at her, puzzled.

“Do you know what today’s date is?” Mary Margaret squealed.

“December 22nd, what’s so exciting about that?” She implored. Snow was beaming was happiness as Emma finally logically put it all together. How did she not see this before? She hadn’t felt like this since she was 18 years old in a jail cell. The sickness and the horrible head and body aches.

“Am I?” Emma barely choked out, feeling a rush of emotions throughout her body.

“Yeah I think so,” Snow rejoiced, attempting to keep calm but utterly failing.

“I’m pregnant? Oh my god,” Emma smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.

She couldn’t believe that all the stress of being the savior and her job as a mom and sherif blinded her to the fact that she was over two weeks late! A Baby. A tiny Captain Hook could be growing inside her. That was a phrase she definitely did not think she would ever say, but she couldn’t be happier.

Snow pulled her in again giving her another hug, squeezing her tight. This was a moment that she wished she could have had with her daughter the first time around. Snow always dreamed of being their for Emma through all of her milestones, but she was gonna take what she could get.

“A test!” Mary Margaret sang, pulling Emma in the direction of the exit. “Let’s get a test from the pharmacy next door to know for sure,” Her mother insisted.

She was thankful her mom was here, because she was not capable of thinking clearly in the slightest. She may even still be in shock. Those three minutes were the longest three minutes of her whole existence. She just stared at that stick thinking of all the possibilities of the future. It warmed her heart just thinking about it. But she was also nervous. This is a human life. Sure, they had talked a little about having kids, even agreeing that they both wanted to grow their family, but they weren’t actively trying. She still didn’t know how it even happened. They were usually pretty careful, but I guess they weren’t careful enough.

Her phone timer’s ring brought her back to reality. It was the moment of truth that could change her life forever. Emma look down at the stick, gazing upon that double pink line on all three of the tests she bought. She was pregnant. She felt nauseous again, but this time it wasn’t from the morning sickness. It was butterflies and excitement swirling through her.

She opened the station bathroom door with a smile upon her face. Snow was right outside patiently awaiting any news. Emma held up the test practically buzzing with joy.

“It’s positive! I’m pregnant!” Emma beamed as Snow ran over to her practically screaming with excitement.

“Is this a good thing? Are you happy about this?” Her mother sang, firing question after question her way. Emma felt tears tugging the corners of her eyes. Ever since she made the heart wrenching decision to give up Henry when she was 18 years old, she never felt worthy enough to even think about having another child.

For the longest time in her mind, if she failed one child she doesn’t deserve to have another. Before she was making all these choices on her own, but now she had someone to share everything with. Almost 15 years ago she was miserable and filled with guilt, but right now in this moment Emma felt the exact opposite. Happiness and pure joy flooded her body as she hugged her mother.

“Yes, I never thought I would want this after everything, but yes!” She exclaimed still reveling in the warm arms of her mother’s embrace.

“Have you talked to Killian about kids before? I take it by the look on your face that this wasn’t planned,” Snow wondered giving Emma her signature hopeful smile.

“I mean we talked about the possibilities of the future, maybe expanding our family but we never talked about it more than that or made any kind of decisions. What…what if he doesn’t want this?” Emma feared. Snow knew nothing would come out of Emma working herself up like this. Ultimately she just needed to talk to him.

“Emma, honey don’t do that to yourself. Killian loves you more than anything in the world. I’m sure he will be thrilled, but you really should talk to him,” Mary Margaret reassured her daughter.

“Yeah, you’re completely right. I just need to talk to him, right?” Snow nodded, before hugging Emma again.

“Regardless, Emma. I am so happy for you and can’t wait to have another grandchild,” Snow stressed. “Now go!” Emma nodded and grabbed her keys from her desk and made her way out the door.

“I’ll call you later,” She yelled over her shoulder. Once she reached her car Emma’s heart was beating out of her chest. Of course she trusted Killian and knew this wouldn’t change his feelings for her, after all they do share true love, but still Emma couldn’t help but worry. It was apart of who she was.

Abandonment was so far ingrained into her DNA she at times forgot who she could trust. And Hook was the one person she could always count on. She knew he would always chose her especially if a child was involved. He often told her told her that in the beginning of their relationship. Promising that he would never do what Neal did to her. But she didn’t want him to stay because of a child. Emma wanted him to stay because he wanted to.

That eight minute drive home was longest ride she had ever endured. As Emma walked up the stairs to the door of their shared home she couldn’t help but think about all the love, pain, and hardships they had faced in this home. There was so much history in such a short amount of time. And Emma hoped that after today they could start to build and grow this house. Making into more than just a home for them and Henry, but a home for their newest addition.

She turned the key finding her two boys on the couch as Henry taught Killian his newest video game in his collection. The loud sound of a dragon roaring echoed throughout the house. Emma loved to see them like this. Bonding and laughing without a care in the world. He was already such an amazing father even though he wasn’t Henry’s biologically and that meant the world to Emma.

“Hey, mom you’re home early!” Her son noted, putting down his controller.

“Yeah, I missed you guys, and besides it the weekend. I shouldn’t be at work all day. How was your rounds with David?” Emma asked Killian.

“They were great. The prince I and didn’t get into too much trouble,” Hook joked, giving his Swan a smile.

“How are you feeling? Any better, love?” Killian finished with one eyebrow cocked.

“Um, much better than yesterday thats for sure. Hey, Henry it’s almost six you should start heading over to Regina’s you don’t want to be late for dinner,” Emma reminded him. Thankfully him and Regina had Saturday dinners every week which gave Emma and her priate some time for just the two of them to chat. This was something that she definitely needed to do alone.

“Oh shoot! I wasn’t watching the time a all. I was too busy kicking Killian’s ass!” Henry sassed, flashing Hook a challenging smirk.

“You have an obvious advantage. I only have one hand! Besides I think you bloody cheated in that round. Besides I think we should have a rematch slaying real dragons and then see who’s laughing,” Killian joked, as Henry smiled. Henry grabbed his backpack and made his way out the front door.

“Be careful on your bike and if you want to spend the night please text me!” Emma replied. “Oh, and make sure you bundle up. It’s getting really chilly out there,” Emma added, as he waved goodbye. Killian was still sitting on the couch, now flipping through his latest boating magazine. “Killian, can I ask you something?” Emma blurted out, as she took a seat right next to him.

“Of course, love. You can ask me anything,” Killian encouraged, feeling slightly concerned with the tone of her voice. She didn’t know quite how to start this conversation so she just said the first thing that came to mind.

“When we first met and started dating, were you okay with the fact that I had Henry?” Emma started, never breaking eye contact.

“Of course, Emma. I love your son more than my own life,” Hook explained, wanting there to be absolutely no confusion for his love for her boy.

“Do you just think of him as only my son?” Emma asked, fishing for the right words to say.

“What do you mean? Like him being Regina’s too?” He questioned, not knowing what she was getting at.

“No, I mean of course he’s Regina’s too, but I meant more along the lines of yours,” Emma confessed, attempting to read his expression.

“Emma, I would never try to replace the boy’s father. Bae will always hold that special place in his heart,” Killian finished feeling the guilt of the boys father’s early passing.

“Of course not, Killian. That’s not what I was implying at all. But he does look up to you. He talks to you about girls, asks you for advice, and you help him with his homework. You’re there for him at every step of his life. In a way you are his dad. At least Henry seems to think of you that way,” Emma continued, as she felt her eyes begin the water again. These damn hormones were gonna kill her.

“It is my honor to help raise and love your son everyday by your side, Emma. It brings me such joy that you want to share that with me,” Hook professed, taking her hand. He could feel the raw emotion in the room. It was so thick it was almost getting hard to breathe.

“Really?” She choked out, a small tear ran down her face. “Of course, love. Other than loving you it’s the best and most important part of my life,” Killian reassured her. “Now what’s wrong, my love?” He implored drawing the truth out of her.

“Well, nothing’s wrong. At least I hope nothing is wrong,” Emma prayed, trying to find the words. He raised his hand to cup her cheek, running the pad of his calloused thumb over the smooth tops of her skin, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Emma, you can tell me anything. Nothing you say will change my love for you,” He promised. She took a deep breath before reaching into her purse, pulling out one of the tests. He looked puzzled. Emma wondered if he had ever seen one of these before or even knew what it was. He took it out of her hands and studied it for a moment.

“Is this one of those things you put in your mouth and tells you what your temperature is?” Hook asked, while bringing it closer to his face. Emma was worried he was going to suddenly pop it into his mouth! She quickly grabbed it from his grasp before he could make a terrible mistake.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Emma noted, shaking her head.

“Than what is it?” Hook asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s the reason I have been so sick lately,” She smiled, knowing that her other half was still utterly confused. “Killian, I’m pregnant,” She voiced, looking for any telling of Hook’s reaction. The house was completely silent. Neither of them said a word for what felt like hours. Killian’s expression was neural giving no insight to what he was thinking or feeling. Then a smile crept onto his face. Emma’s heart was relieved to finally get something encouraging.

“You’re pregnant?” Killian beamed, still in shock.

“Yes!” She sang, the butterflies in her stomach dissipating and the stress lifted from her body.

“We’re gonna have a child!?” Hook rejoiced in disbelief.

“Yes!” Emma laughed welcoming him into her embrace. He kissed every inch of her. It reminded her of the kiss she gave Killian upon his return from the Underworld. Love and joy was vibrating off of their bodies.

“Oh, Emma, I love you so much,” He shared between kisses, tears streaming down his face.

“So you’re happy about this?” She asked, doubt melting from body.

“Happy? Happy? Emma, happy doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. This is the happiest moment of my entire existence!” Hook choked out, smiling ear to ear. “Are you happy about this, love?” Emma nodded, finally smiling. It was like a weight was lifted from her.

“Yes, Killian, yes! I was just worried because well, you know. We never really talked about having children. You seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it,” Emma stated, her hand still in his.

“Emma, I never mentioned it because I knew how much the subject pained you. This, having a child with you, has been my dream since that kiss in Neverland. It’s all I ever wanted. But I didn’t want to cause you anymore guilt or suffering. Having you and Henry was enough for me if it was enough for you. I love being a father to your boy and ever since we became a little family, I’ve wanted to grow it,” Killian confessed, pouring his heart and soul out, bearing it completely to his true love. Tears wetted Emma’s face. His declaration of love for her was overwhelming.

“I love you,” She cried, closing the distance once again.

“I love you too,” He muttered before his lips found hers for a second time. “We are having a baby,” He exclaimed still in disbelief.

“Yes, yes we are!” Emma laughed, throwing her arms around him slanting her lips over his. She deepened the embrace, cupping his face as Killian’s hand and hook found her waist. Emma took the hint, moving to straddle his hips. Her hands flew to his vest, frantically unbuttoning the leather garment.

“You need less clothes or at least fewer buttons,” She gasped, ripping off as much between them as possible. Finally she reached to his extremely hard length pressing into her center. She tilted her hips forward, teasing him as she undid the laces, stroking his member. He moaned into her mouth enjoying the attention his Swan was giving him.

Out of what seemed like nowhere, he stood up with Emma still in his strong arms, legs wrapped around his trim waist and set her down gently back on the couch. He dropped to his knees resting between her legs. She helped him remove her sweater and tank top before shrugging off the last of his black button up. Killian then leaned forward, placing a loving kiss to her stomach. The gesture had Emma on the brink of tears again.

“This child will the luckiest kid in the whole world, simply to have you as its mother,” He vowed, his hand caressing her belly. Emma pulled him up to her kissing him, letting her lips to the talking that her hormonal overwhelmed mind didn’t have the words for. He placed open mouthed kisses all down her neck leaving a trail down to the hollow of her breasts, which now that he had come to think of it seemed a little bigger than he remembered.

She reached behind her to unhook the clasp of her bra, desperately needing to feel him everywhere. Once the restricting fabric was thrown from the area Killian returned his attention to the newly exposed skin before him. Killian had always been the master of foreplay, understanding that for Emma, the build up was almost as important as the act itself. And he had never left her unsatisfied. Even if it was just a rushed quickie her pleasure had always come first, and today was no different. But nothing could have prepared Emma for the way her body was responding to his touch.

Something was completely different. They have had sex hundreds of times by now and it had always been amazing, but the sensations she was experiencing right now we’re so much better. It was like her body had magnified all the sensations. All he was doing was simply sucking lightly on the rosy bud of her nipple and she was already on the edge of coming. He hadn’t even really touched her yet. Emma could get used to this. Maybe she could blame it on the hormones. Honestly she didn’t care what it was, she just didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck, Killian, more,” She moaned, eyes shut, hands pulling tightly to his dark locks. Emma knew how wet she must have been. Her panties had to have been soaked through at this point. He switched to her other breast kneading the other with his hand. Softly rolling and pinching her over sensitive nipple, careful not to cause her any pain.

Killian simultaneously dragged his hand down to unbutton her jeans, in order to give her what she really needed. Emma lifted her hips up off the couch slightly, helping him peel off her pants and underwear in one smooth motion. The moment they were off the smell of her arousal coated the air. It set a fire deep within Killian to satisfy each and every one of her carnal needs.

“Bloody hell, love. There’s an ocean between your legs,” Killian groaned, not knowing where to start first. “Tell me what you need, Emma. Tell me,” He urged, his cock throbbing painfully in his half open trousers.

“Touch me,” She whined, her chest heaving, anticipating for what was still to come.

“Where, love? Here?” Killian teased, sliding a single finger through her sodden flesh.

“Yes! KIllian, more!” She whimpered, desperate for a release. She had no idea what had gotten into her. She had never felt like this before. Of course Killian always made her feel special and wonderful and always could turn her on, but this was a completely different ball park. It was like her body was going to expode. Every touch made her want to scream, and Killian was starting to pick up on it.

“I want to hear what you need, Emma. If you need more or less, faster or slower, I want to know,” God, what’s hotter than a man wanting to know exactly what you want? He then seized the torturous teasing, giving her what she truly desired. Dipping down he gently made an experimental lick through her folds from top to bottom, wanting to see her reaction to his touch. She gasped upon contact of his wickedly talented tongue. When he reached her clit Emma gasped.

“Fuck,” She moaned, her hands flying to this head between her legs.

“Is this what you want, love?” Killian asked, placing his tongue flat on her sensitive nub.

“Yes,” She choked out, throwing her head back to the soft cushions of the couch. Gently he sucked her delicate bud into his mouth. It never took him long to push her over the edge, but in this time it was borderline embarrassing. Waves of pleasure came crashing down around her. Before Emma could speak she felt Killian’s capable arms lifting her to his chest, switching places so she was straddling him again like she had been previously.

He kissed her until they were both a quivering mess of anticipation and need. Emma could feel his length bobbing and teasing her between her legs. Just a quick tilt of her hips and she was welcoming him into her slick heat, not even bothering to fully remove his pants. Their twin moans mingled, echoing throughout their shared home. A home that was about to be more than just a family of three.

They both moved at the perfect rhythm with just the right pressure, quickly building into both of their spectacular climaxes. Emma always loved riding him like this. Being so close to him while sharing their bodies in pleasure was a feeling she hadn’t known before she met Killian. She accelerated the movement of her hips, maneuvering faster, driving herself down until he found that spot deep within her igniting a familiar fire.

“Bloody hell, love. Don’t stop,” Hook urged. Knowing he was close he dropped his hand to where the were joined, drawing lazy circles over his lover’s clit. Keening at his touch Emma instanting fell apart above him, combusting at the seams. Her release trigger his own. Kissing her, moaning into her mouth helping one another ride out their climaxes until they were both spent.

Once they came down from their highs Killian placed a tender kiss to her forehead before lifting her up, carrying them both to their bedroom. Moving her up stairs was a little difficult to manage, especially balancing with one hand, but he enjoyed the feeling of her pressed up against him in his arms.

Killian set his love on the bed, before making his way to the bathroom to get a washcloth. He affectionately wiped away the evidence of their mixed release and tucked her into bed. He discarded the towel into the laundry hamper and then joined his Swan under the sheets, snuggling in close. Emma rested her head in his chest, soothing herself with the sound of his heart. Hook placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, smelling the sweet aroma of her hair.

“I still can’t believe we are having a baby. I mean you have our child growing inside of you. It all just seems surreal,” Killian smiled, gazing into her perfect green eyes.

“I know, it seems so unreal that a few months from now I’ll be huge, waddling around and emotionally unstable. You think you are up to that?” Emma laughed.

“No, you will still be my wonderfully beautiful and ever so talented wife that I love more than anything in this world. And the fact that you’re carrying my child will make you that much more incredibly irresistible,” He added, winning a grin from his wife.

“You’re sure you still gonna want me when I’m fat and yelling at you?” She giggled, running her fingers through his dark coarse chest hair.

“Emma Swan, there will never be a time that I won’t find you the most desirable woman in all the realms,” He sang, and she knew everything he was saying he truly meant with all his heart. Not capable of finding the right words to say, Emma gave him a sweet kiss to his lips.

“How old is our little bean?” Killian questioned, rubbing his calloused hand over her belly. She found the gesture incredibly comforting.

“Well, I’m not completely sure could be four to six weeks. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow. We should know more then,” She explained, getting excited just talking about what’s to come.

“Can I come, love?” Hook wondered, as he stroked her back.

“You want to?” Emma questioned, looking up at him through her thick lashes, a little half smile forming on her lips.

“Of course I want to. I want to be there for every moment of this. Where else would I want to be, love?” He promised with that look in his piercing blue eyes. Killian accidentally glanced over at the clock on their bedside table to see that it was almost 9pm. “Love, have you ate at all recently?” Hook implored, with a tint of concern in his voice.

“Not since 11am, but I’m not starving or anything,” Emma began, trying to tell him she was fine.

“Nonsense, love. You need to eat something as soon as possible. Would you like me to make you one of my famous grilled cheeses?” Killian suggested, already dragging himself away from Emma’s warm embrace.

“Great sex and grilled cheese? What is it my birthday or something?” She teased, flashing him a grateful yet sassy smirk.

“You better get used to it darling. We have to make sure our little bean here is fed and happy. So for that to happen I first have to take care of you, my love. Your heart’s desire, that’s all I want you to have,” He insisted while pulling up a pair of pants he found on the floor.

Ten minutes later killian returned with two plates full of food, and the biggest smile she had ever seen. They sat there in bed eating grilled cheese just simply enjoying the fact that they were gonna bring new life into this world. And in that moment every doubt, fear, and worry she had only mere hours ago was gone. Because Emma knew that they were gonna do this like they did everything else, together.

@teamhook @deathbycaptainswan @kmomof4 @afairytaleprincess @galadriel26 @hook-n-emma @onceuponacaptainswans @asyouwissh @captainswanbookclub @sunshine2632 @blowmiakisscolin @jennjenn615 @dmarien

Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!

P.S. I’m so glad you guys liked the Masterlist I posted last week! The support was overwhelming! I will defiantly keep that in mind and make another one in the near future! And I’ve almost reached my first milestone of 100 followers:) You guys are the best!

[its-love-u-asshole]

Pull [fic, sfw]

Pairing: Awashima Seri/Hirasaka Douhan

Rating: T

Summary: That's how she always was. Calm, collected, maybe even a little cold at times (at least that's what the boys said).That's how it seemed at least. In the end though, she still had the mind and body of a teenager, and all the embarrassing things which came with it.She swallowed, trying to focus on the serve which was coming her way, but her eyes kept drifting, her vision consumed with green and flashes of milky white thighs when the cheerleader twirled...

Ao3 Version

I did it lmao, I wrote lesbians for rarepair week. This was super fun, I’m glad I got to participate in this event ffff AUs are ofc my shit, so how could I resist? Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over! 

Enjoy!

The sounds of volleyballs hitting the court were deafening, but she was used to it, usually too into the game to really pay attention as she spiked the ball successfully. She bit her lip, eyes flickering to the side lines for what must've been the thousandth time during the match.

The practice match was proving to be quite the challenge, but Seri had expected it. Her team had played this school many times, and they were quite skilled. Despite the rivalry between Principal Munakata and Principal Nagare, the schools met up often for training camps and the like. It was most likely more out of necessity than anything else, seeing as it was the closest neighboring school.

She should've been used to it, playing on this court. But, certain things always seemed to catch her calm, blue eyes, and today was truly exceptional.

She moved on instinct to receive the ball again, and luckily, it went up. She got a few yells of encouragement, of praise, but for once she was hardly concerned. As soon as the ball was out of her field of vision, her eyes flicked back to the sidelines again.

Seri never liked the green uniforms of the neighboring school. She never much liked the color at all. It was bright, bold, standing out more than the players did on the sleek, shining gymnasium floor. The color never suited her tastes. It looked sickly to her, hardly appropriate for a school or...anything really. She hardly wore it, finding the color in her wardrobe was like finding a needle in a haystack--the haystack being her enormous closet filled to the brim with gowns and coats. Ah, but there was that too. That was the other thing which may have bothered her...

Somehow, the color seemed to fit. The high school was wealthier, more affluent than some of the others in the area, and it was almost as if the color proclaimed 'greed.' She hated greedy people, people who took advantage of others or asserted their status for nothing other than to demonstrate superiority. Authority wasn't to be abused, wealth wasn't to be paraded. She never liked to generalize of course, she'd met some very nice and polite people during her visits to Jungle, a nickname given to the high school for its strange theme. However, she'd had her fair share of bad ones as well, mostly with some of the entitled rich boys who tried to pick her up after games, or girls which sneered at her as she walked in the hallway.

It was mostly alright, she had a thick skin after all, but Seri had always tried to be amiable and civil in most situations. It was simply how she believed people should behave. Respectful, kind until given a reason not to be.

But oh, how some Jungle students tested her patience....

Seri spiked the ball, cursing when it hit out of bounds. The rough sound of the ball slapping the floor felt mocking almost, and it felt worse than a usual missed spike. She lowered her head apologetically while her teammates waved it off, telling her not to worry, but it didn't help her nerves. She sincerely hoped the team captain wouldn't notice she was out of it.

Her eyes went back to the side as another play began, and she caught a flash of blonde hair which was two seconds from falling out of a neat, polka dotted bow.

They were in the second set, Seri was all sweaty, her hair was a mess, but she shouldn't have cared. Really shouldn't have. She'd never before. After all, she played sports, it was perfectly normal to sweat and look a little ruffled during a game, being attractive wasn't the goal.

But...

No. Pay attention.

Seri prided herself on her level head, on her ability to separate her emotions from logic in her mind, her ability to think before she acted and keep her thoughts under control. That's how she always was. Calm, collected, maybe even a little cold at times (at least that's what the boys said).

That's how it seemed at least. In the end though, she still had the mind and body of a teenager, and all the embarrassing things which came with it.

She swallowed, trying to focus on the serve which was coming her way, but her eyes kept drifting, her vision consumed with green and flashes of milky white thighs when the cheerleader twirled--

"Awashima!" She turned back just in time to raise her arms in a futile attempt to get the ball--it sort of worked.

The ball bounced off her arms at a bad angle, hitting her chin hard but managing to go up, and it was only after her team scored the point that she was benched for the rest of the set. She wasn't injured badly, but her coach had apparently mistaken her lack of response time for sluggishness, scolding Seri for playing when she might be sick.

She wasn't, and the fact made it all the more embarrassing, even if she was the only one who knew.

Sighing heavily, she wiped some of the loose strands of hair from her face and pushed them back in agitation, grimacing as Jungle's team scored another point. Not like she would've been able to prevent it had she been on the court, not with her current mindset.

Yeah, Jungle students really did tend to test her patience, just...not so much in this way.

As subtly as she could (and by that, she meant turning her head completely to stare), Seri's eyes drifted over to the current thorn in her side.

If she could even be called a thorn. If she was, she was the thorn on the prettiest rose in the world, and--oh goodness, now you're being ridiculous.

The thorn in question was one of Jungle's cheerleaders, one with calm green eyes and purposeful movements. To a quick observer, it probably looked as if she was the least energetic of the bunch. The other girls were doing their best to put on a show, breathing heavily, cheering with every leap and tilt of their hips. Not her though. Her clear face, which looked lightly dusted with some sort of blush, was kept in a neutral expression, her glossed lips quirking every once in a while as she reacted to the game. She wasn't as bouncy as the others, unless the routine called for it, her twirls were kept controlled and brief (sadly), the bow in her hair shifting more and more until--ah, it fell out. Blonde curls jostled against her shoulders, shining against the green and it looked anything but sickly. She twirled again, and Seri eyes followed the movement, catching the hint of abs as the cheer uniform rode up. And yet, even after a few more complex moves, the girl still looked put together. It wasn't that she wasn't energetic or athletic though, and that's maybe what drove Seri 'up the wall,' as one would say. No, the cheerleader's movements were done with purpose, executed flawlessly with no excess effort expended. She certainly looked the least winded, though Seri didn't fail to notice the light heave of her chest from the rapid movements, the girl's slightly annoyed expression when she had to tug down her shirt to keep it from riding up too high with a pom-pom in hand.

She swallowed, mindlessly reaching for the water bottle beside her as her vision drifted to the girl's legs, watching as the skirt rubbed against them, revealing a flash of patterned spandex underneath. I wonder--

Suddenly, the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, and for whatever reason, it all but jerked Seri out of her thoughts with a force. Automatically, her eye shot back up to the girl's face, as if her subconscious was curious about her reaction more than the score of the game itself, but Seri didn't even have time to ponder that. Her entire throat closed up, her breathing choked as green eyes bore into hers, the cheerleader's mouth slightly open from her harsh breathing, and all Seri could feel was guilt.

Guilt, because she had been staring, and it hadn't been for the most appropriate of reasons. She felt embarrassed, maybe worried too, hoping and wishing it looked like Seri had simply zoned out in the other's direction.

She cursed herself. She was usually so much more aware of things, so much better at keeping her composure.

So unacceptable...

She whipped her head away from the cheerleader as her teammates came to the bench, happy from their win, and all she could do was smile robotically, mind on autopilot as the coach gave his speech and the girls stretched. All the while, Seri swore she could feel someone staring at the back of her head, the sounds of pom-poms rustling behind her as the other team went to the locker room first.

I can't believe this...

Seri couldn't even fully regret her staring, and she stood up with a sigh as her teammates left the bench. The girl was beautiful after all, a bit mysterious, dangerous looking, but...so cute at the same time. From the polka dot bow and patterned spandex to the ankle bracelets she'd been wearing, the cheerleader was lovely and enticing all wrapped up in a petite package.

She wondered...

Stop that. It doesn't matter. What you did was rude, leave it alone. Move on. End of discussion.

Glaring at the polished gymnasium floor, Seri nodded to herself in understanding. Right, it was best to be smart about this. Rocking the boat was never something she did.

Luckily, it was doubtful the cheerleader would read Seri's peeping as anything romantic, considering she was a girl, but Seri's gut still twisted in humiliation as she walked briskly out of the gym.

--

Most of her teammates were already in the school's cafeteria, being treated to lunch courtesy of the school's coach, but she hadn't been hungry enough to rush like they had. Instead, she'd taken a much needed rinse, and changed slowly, trying to rid her mind of images of blonde curls and green skirts, and now the locker room was deserted.

The sounds of her sneakers squeaking bounced off the walls, but they still weren't enough to drown out the ruffle of pom-poms which kept replaying in her head.

Honestly, you're not usually like this. Get it together.

She stuffed her uniform in her bag angrily, knowing she couldn't avoid the crowds forever by holing herself up in the locker room. Hoisting her duffel over her shoulder, she made way for the exit closest to the cafeteria with a slight frown. She shouldn't have been worried. No doubt she'd be distracted by her friends and other students of Jungle when sat down to eat. She could only hope the girls from the cheer squad wouldn't be join--

"You're not usually benched."

Seri all but dropped her bag from the calm tone which pierced the silence, and she couldn't stop the startled gasp which left her lips as footsteps approached from the other side of the lockers.

Oh great.

Maybe it was a member of the other team there to gloat, or some random student who didn't like her. Either way, Seri wasn't exactly in the mood for this type of confrontation, no matter how cold she could make herself be.

But when the speaker finally stepped out from behind the lockers, Seri's brain all but stopped, and she thought maybe a confrontation would've been better.

There, standing elegantly with a fluffy pink towel wrapped around her neck, was the cheerleader which would surely occupy Seri's fantasies (if she would admit to herself that she even had them).

Seri's jaw fell for about half a second before she set her face into a neutral stare, trying not to back down from the piercing green gaze. There was a tense silence there, one Seri didn't know if she was imagining or not, before the other coughed expectantly.

Oh, she spoke to you.

Swallowing thickly, Seri tried to keep her eyes on the other's face, and not the jut of her hip as she leaned against the lockers. "O-oh, I wasn't feeling well I suppose."

It wasn't a lie.

It just wasn't necessarily the whole truth.

The girl seemed to find the answer amusing for whatever reason, lips quirking up only slightly while she hummed. Seri didn't care to be analyzed, though she'd be a hypocrite for saying so. She did a fair amount of people watching, though usually not for such primal reasons...

God, don't blush. That will not help at all.

When the other continued to not speak, Seri took the initiative to try and hold the reins of the conversation. Control was better, she could navigate better if she led the conversation. "Who are you, if you don't mind?"

Seri ignored her increasing heartbeat when the girl's legs crossed, the anklets jingling and practically urging Seri's gaze downward.

No. Nope.

"Hirasaka Douhan." Wow, that's lovely. Seri couldn't quite fight the blush this time.

Douhan smiled slightly, her head tilting forward as if to ask the silent return question, and Seri felt the reins slipping away once more, giving into the pull.

"Awashima Seri." Her voice sounded small, the usual edge and sternness completely gone. 

"Hm, I know."

Huh?

Seri bit her lip when the other smirked, because honestly, she couldn't handle all these new expressions at once.

"You play here a lot, and you're a starter," Douhan informed breezily, kicking her leg back and forth as she went on. "So I picked up your name at some point. That's why I was surprised when you got benched. It isn't like you."

Seri didn't know if she was reading too much into things (which was unlike her), but something about those words felt different, almost...accusatory, and the tension in the atmosphere kicked off higher.

It caught her off guard, the air, Douhan's small smirk, those legs, and Seri realized she'd never had the reins to begin with. The reins hadn't even been remotely close to her. She was on a whole different wagon for crying out loud.

"Oh...yeah," Seri said, chastising her lack of eloquence as Douhan stepped away from the lockers once more. "I mean, people just have off days sometimes, even starters."

There was a twinkle in those green eyes, and Seri's narrowed, like she was now being cornered and she didn't know how.

Douhan tugged at one of her blonde curls absentmindedly, as if in deep thought, but Seri could tell it was done mostly for show. It worked still, because anything the girl did was like a show to Seri, every tilt of her head or sway of hips, and Seri realized how in the danger zone she was when the other started to open her mouth.

She tried to take the conversation back one last time, but she should've known better. "We should really get--"

"Hm yes, I guess most people have moments like that," Douhan said airily, as if the concept of having an off day was completely foreign for someone like her, and Seri was suddenly all too aware of the other coming towards her, stopping just short of two feet away. "But, maybe if those people didn't have wandering eyes, they'd be more productive."

Seri's brain short circuited, and the guilt from before came crashing back in a tidal wave, and she knew she'd lost. Douhan knew it too, judging from the smug expression, and Seri felt her own wagon drive right off a cliff as those plump lips curled into a smile.

She knew.

Oh no...

Seri inhaled quickly, too quickly, judging from how she coughed roughly afterwards, but she couldn't help it. Douhan knew. Right. Of course she'd known, Seri had been painfully obvious, and the cheerleader was obviously more perceptive than most people, but Seri still felt humiliated for thinking anything less.

How was she going to get out of this?

She got ready to bow in apology, make up some other excuse that didn't revolve around how gorgeous Douhan was, but the other beat her to it.

"I'm pleased you finally looked my way," Douhan said, shoulders sagging in mock relief, followed by a snort which spiked Seri's blood pressure way up. "I was getting tired of wasting my favorite accessories for practice matches."

Seri's jaw dropped fully this time, and it didn't recover.

Seri's grip on her bag was murderous, and she almost thought about asking again if she'd heard the other correctly, but what was the point in that?

Seri could hear just fine, could pick up hints, and she stepped forward out of her own conviction. Her mind flashed back to other practice games, searching for a glimpse of the other, but there were none. Douhan was right, Seri had never looked her way, but maybe she should've.

No way...

"I'm sorry...what?" Seri felt the grin breaking out on her face before she even got confirmation, because as flustered as the cheerleader made her, Seri wasn't dense.

"You don't seem like the kind of person who needs repeating," Douhan whispered, voice shaking only a little as she tentatively brought a hand to Seri's neck. The tension hit a boiling point, and Seri found herself leaning in impulsively before Douhan was even finished. "I can think of another method though."

It wasn't like Seri to do this, was completely out of character, but the fact that a girl as pretty and intelligent as Douhan had been seeking her affections was downright overwhelming for the teenage part of her brain, and she couldn't resist. She hadn't even fully pieced it all together yet, but she could scold herself later, whatever.

She leaned in, dropping her bag to the floor.

The first thing Seri took into account was that Douhan's lips tasted like lime, of all things, tart and addicting in a way which seemed more than appropriate for the other. The next, was the sticky texture of her lips as they fit against hers, and Seri couldn't stop the pleased noise she made when she realized the taste must've been the other's lip gloss. Douhan's hand dropped the other pom-pom, her fingers moving to rest on Seri's shoulders tightly. The pads of her fingers pressed on the lines of tension there, and Seri couldn't hold back a small groan, angling her head to capture those lips more fully. Seri almost couldn't believe it was happening, but her senses screamed at her, drowning in ecstasy as she took in the cheerleader. The scent of fruity perfume and laundry detergent pulled Seri in more, only adding to the mix of enticement which was Douhan Hirasaka, not minding the light smacking of their lips as kisses grew less and less innocent.

Seri moaned softly when Douhan's tongue slid along her lips, and Seri's hand instinctively grasped the other's hip to steady herself. Douhan seemed rather pleased with the response, sighing softly while she pulled at Seri's lower lip in a teasing manner, and well, Seri was never passive.

With a surge of confidence and the need for control which had always characterized her, Seri's other hand flew up to tangle in Douhan's locks, moaning at the softness as she pulled the cheerleader closer, silently demanding more of her taste.

She didn't get the chance though.

"I don't know, I can't find her anywhere."

"Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

Seri pulled back in a frenzy as the voices of her teammates drifted from the hall, and she was once again very aware of where she was. At Jungle. A school. In public.

She stepped away reluctantly, and Douhan didn't seem to take it the wrong way, stepping back herself with a small smile.

It did unhealthy things to Seri's heart.

"Awashima, are you there?"

Seri cringed at the voices getting louder, coming closer, because she didn't want to leave this bubble. She wanted to stay with Douhan, talk to her...there was still so much to say and ask. What now?

"I, well--"

"Yeah, I know," Douhan whispered, skipping forward and slipping a neat, decorated piece of paper into Seri's hand. It was pink with green accents, and it made Seri melt. "Call me, okay?"

Seri didn't have to be told twice.

--

The bus ride back to school was usually so boring and silent that Seri drifted off to sleep, but as her phone pinged with another new message, she found that she wasn't tired at all.

[teacupcedes]

Young Mother

INVOLVED: Mercedes Jones and Doctor Jameson TIME FRAME: Wednesday, August 7, 2019 LOCATION: Planned Parenthood; Atlanta, Georgia SUMMARY: Mercedes finally goes to the doctor as she promised Samuel she would and reveals the truth that she had been dreading since that day.

Mercedes gnawed on her bottom lip as she sat in the lobby of the planned parenthood, her hands wringing together in her lap. She was nervous as hell. Since going shopping with Samuel and seeing the pregnancy tests, she couldn’t get the idea out of her mind that she might be pregnant. It would explain a lot. She had googled and compared the symptoms she had been having, and just immediately associating with being sick, with pregnancy symptoms and they were spot on. Then she began to think about how she hadn’t gotten her period the previous month. At the time, the idea hadn’t really phased her. From time to time, she would miss a month due to stress or simply hormone changes in her body and then it would pop up again with new features, like back cramps and headaches instead of the cravings and bloating that she was used to. So, the idea hadn’t even dawned on her until it did and since she had been shitting bricks of worry. What was she going to do if she was pregnant? She was 16, still a kid herself and Samuel wasn’t any better. Yes, he was older, but he was also still a kid and she was sure he wasn’t ready for a baby. They had far too much going on – school being the main thing.

Sighing out deeply, Mercedes closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before she released slowly, calming her nerves as best that she could before a nurse came from the back calling her. “Jones?” the young brown-skinned girl said as her eyes scanned the solemn faces of the lobby. Opening her eyes, Mercedes looked to the woman and released a breath as she stood slowly, walking towards the girl that didn’t seem much older than her. “I’m Jones…” Mercedes said as she approached, holding her bag on her shoulder. The girl looked Mercedes over, a hint of a shocked expression on her face as she looked back at the chart she was holding. “You can follow me on back,” she said gently after she finally looked back up at Mercedes.

With an expression of worry and regret, Mercedes followed behind the girl towards a private examination room. “You can have a seat on the examination table and get comfortable, I’m just going to start with the basics,” The young woman said as she sat the chart down on the counter and moved to grab the thermometer, sheathing it with a fresh protective cover. “First, I’m just going to check your temperature,” she told Mercedes as she approached her, holding out the thermometer for Mercedes to fit it under her tongue. Nodding, Mercedes opened her mouth for the girl, letting the instrument slip into her mouth and under her tongue for a reading. Within seconds the machine was beeping, and the girl pulled the thermometer from her mouth, taking a note of the temperature as she wrote it down on the chart. “Can you roll up your sleeve for me, I’m going to take your blood pressure next.” Mercedes nodded in silence as she pulled her sleeve up, letting the girl wrap the arm cup around her bicep. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Mercedes tried to stop the rapid beating of her heart.

“Mmm,” The girl said gently as she pulled the cuff from Mercedes arm and jotted down the results. “Okay last thing, I just need your weight and height, so can I have you step over here and take off your shoes, then step onto the scale?” Biting her lip, Mercedes did as she was asked and slipped her sneakers off before she stepped into the scale, watching the numbers as they shifted before settling. 163. She had gained three pounds. That wasn’t extreme. Her weight fluctuated up and down a bit but 160 was her typical resting point, so 163 wasn’t bad as far as she was concerned. “Okay,” the young woman said after writing it down. “Now I just need you to stand right here,” she said gesturing to the height chart on the wall. “Shoulder’s straight, back tall,” she said gently, watching as Mercedes lined up against the numbers. “five-foot-two,” she said aloud before she moved to write it down. “Okay with that, you can have a seat once more, the doctor will be in with you shortly.”

“Okay, thank you,” Mercedes finally spoke as she moved to sit on the examination table once more. Looking around the room, Mercedes read over all the posters and looked at all of the pictures of expecting mothers and she swallowed hard. If she was pregnant, it would be their own fault. They had been reckless from time to time and everyone knows that the pull-out method is the absolute least effective method and they used it often. Rather they had condoms or not, sometimes they were simply two frantic and stupid to just use them. A true sign of their immaturity. Dropping her head into her hands, Mercedes bit her lip. What would her parents say? How would they treat her? Would they make her get rid of it? Did she even want to keep it? Now here she was thinking up all these what if’s, but she didn’t even know if she was actually pregnant or not.

Deep down, she felt like she knew the answer, but nothing had been confirmed, so why was she stressing? It was highly possible that she just had some mysterious bird flu or Ebola, or something. At this point, she could be full on dying, her cells literally breaking down by the second. Anything would be better than being pregnant, right?

The three knocks at the door pulled her from her reverie. “Come in,” she said loud enough to be heard through the door and slowly it opened to reveal a tall, thin tan-skinned woman. “Hi there,” she said as she moved to wash her hands in the sink, quickly drying them. “I’m doctor Jameson,” she said as she moved to Mercedes, hand outstretched. “Mercedes,” Mercedes said gently as she took the doctor’s hand into her own, giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you Mercedes,” Doctor Jameson said with a smile as she retracted her hand, moving to pick up the chart, “what brings you in today?” she asked before she began to read over the written information, nodding slowly as she digested it all. “It says here that you think you might be pregnant,” she said looking to Mercedes with a calm expression.

“Yeah…” Mercedes said gently, one hand rubbing up and down the opposite arm nervously. “Have you had unprotected sex recently?” Jameson asked as she sat down in the rollie chair and wheeled over to Mercedes, holding the cart and a pen in hand, watching as Mercedes nodded. “Do you remember when?” Jameson asked Mercedes, her voice extremely soothing to Mercedes. “Uh, the last time was like a month ago,” Mercedes said quietly, looking down at the ground. Nodding, Jameson wrote down the information before she asked, “Have you had any symptoms such as nausea and vomiting, tender breasts, mild stomach cramps, fatigue, or bloating?” Mercedes shifted slightly as she nodded. “The nausea and vomiting and a bit of fatigue,” she said as she slowly lifted her head to meet the doctor’s eyes as the woman nodded. “Well, the nausea and vomiting with fatigue could be something else, but considering you have had recent unprotected sex, we’ll explore every possibility,” Jameson told Mercedes gently as she moved to set the chart aside for the moment. “Go ahead and lie back for me for a moment, I want to examine your abdomen,” Jameson said gently.

With a nod, Mercedes adjusted herself on the examination table, laying back gently as she looked up at the woman. Doctor Jameson stood and gently began to feel around Mercedes stomach through her shirt. “Mm,” she said gently, feeling the slight rigidness of the belly. “Okay, Mercedes I’m going to go ahead and do an ultrasound and we’ll go from there, is that okay?” Jameson said as she looked down at Mercedes. “That’s fine,” Mercedes said in a soft tone as she lifted her shirt, rolling it just under her breasts, watching as Doctor Jameson moved to gather the machine, starting it up. “The gel is a little cold,” she said before she began to squirt some on Mercedes’ stomach. Mercedes shivered slightly from the chill before she closed her eyes. Jameson got the machine prepped and ready before she took the probe and gently pressed it against Mercedes stomach, watching the screen closely.

Mercedes kept her eyes closed, waiting with bated breaths to hear the truth as she felt the probe move around her stomach slowly. “Well… Mercedes it does indeed look like you’re pregnant, about six weeks to be exact,” she said softly as she continued to move the probe around carefully. Mercedes’ heart was ringing in her ears. She’d heard the woman, however, she couldn’t breathe, so no oxygen was traveling to her brain. Jameson placed a gently hand on Mercedes shoulder and she slowly opened her eyes to look at the woman. “Breathe,” Jameson said quietly, and Mercedes released a harsh breath before she inhaled deeply. Slowly her eyes moved from Jameson to the monitor that revealed the life growing inside of her and her face blanched. She was pregnant. There was a baby in side of her. Holy shit. She was screwed.

Tears began to wail up in her eyes and Jameson rubbed Mercedes shoulder gently before she continued. “The baby looks to be healthy and I see a small heart-beat right there,” she said as she lifted her hand from Mercedes’ shoulder to point to it, “which is a very good sign,” she told her in a soft tone. “Your amniotic fluids seem to be at a perfect level for this stage of pregnancy,” she said more to herself now before she asked gently. “Would you like for me to take pictures?” Slowly Mercedes peeled her eyes from the monitor to look at the doctor as she nodded slowly, unable to speak. Jameson did as she needed, taking pictures of the baby before she turned off the machine and cleaned the probe before she cleaned Mercedes stomach for her. Pushing the machine away, she sat back down. “You can go ahead and sit up,” she told Mercedes.

Slowly Mercedes pulled her shirt down and sat up-right, turning to face Jameson once more, her face drained of all color, and life even, as she gazed at the woman. Jameson inhaled a breath, a bit sympathetic for the young girl. “Since we’ve confirmed pregnancy, I’m going to have to do a series of tests,” she explained to Mercedes softly. “I’m going to need a urine sample, some blood work, a pap smear…” she said slowly, letting everything digest for Mercedes, just watching as the girl silently nodded. “I also need to get some information from you,” she said gently as she reached for the chart again. “Are you up for answering a few questions?” she asked gently.

“Whatever you need…” Mercedes said once she found her voice, staring off at nothing in particular now. Jameson nodded slowly as she flipped to a new sheet on the clipboard and began to ask Mercedes about her family medical history, personal medical history, and information about the baby’s father to all of which Mercedes answered quietly. “Samuel Evans…” she said quietly. “He’s 17 and I don’t know much about his family and their history,” she said quietly as she picked at her nails now. “That’s alright,” Jameson said quietly as she wrote down some information and they continued with the examination.

Once the pap smear and culture were done and the urine test and the bloodwork had been submitted to the lab, Mercedes sat down with Jameson in her office with Jameson having just finished going over the do’s and don’ts of pregnancy, writing a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and calculating a due date for Mercedes. “I know this is a lot to take in at 16 so if you have any questions, please, now is the time to ask,” Jameson told Mercedes. Mercedes gazed at the woman, her eyes glazed over with tears and fear. “When is the cutoff to get an abortion?” she asked before she dropped her gaze looking down. Jameson sighed out and shifted in her seat as she reached for yet another pamphlet, handing it to Mercedes. “In the state of Atlanta, a woman can get an abortion up until she is 12 weeks,” Jameson told Mercedes. “Abortions occurring between 12 and 22 weeks may be performed on medical grounds under conditions established by the Ministry of Health, Labour and Social Affairs.”

Mercedes nodded slowly before she looked down at the pamphlet. “What do you suggest I do?” she asked the woman honestly. Jameson sat back and said, “the only suggestion I can give you is that you speak to your partner as soon as possible.” Licking her lips, Mercedes nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Okay…” she mumbled before she moved to stand, grabbing her purse. “Uh, thank you for your time…” Mercedes said, and Jameson stood as well. “You have a good day Mercedes.”

Nodding, Mercedes exited the room without looking back. She rushed out of the building quickly, juggling the folder she was given and the pamphlets as she tried to wrestle her keys from the bag. With a frustrated grunt and a forceful tug, she managed to pull them out just as she reached her truck and she unlocked the doors quickly, hoping inside and closing the door behind her, she tossed everything into the passenger seat, the ultrasound pictures spilling out of the folder and into the floor as she dropped her head into the steering wheel and began to sob. What in the hell was she going to do?