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stayevildarling · 4 years ago

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Sally McKenna x Wilhemina Venable x Reader - A little help Pt 5

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smoking, mention of drugs, hints of smut, cursing, panic attacks, anxiety

A/N: This is an eight-part story, hope you enjoy

Rushing through the busy halls of university, your mind is racing, the thoughts so loud it sounds like bees in your head and the thoughts just won't stop buzzing, causing your vision to blur slightly, ears ringing and trembling hands, the feeling of panic and losing control of the situation any moment. You rush into the nearest bathroom, bursting the nearest door open and quickly closing it, dropping your bag and books onto the floor and sliding down the wall, trying to calm down.

Shakily you try and reach for your phone to distract yourself, maybe playing a video or maybe even messaging them but you feel woozy with every movement of your body and so you close your eyes and abandon the thought of getting your phone out of your bag. ''Breathe idiot'' you remind yourself and you try a technique that has occasionally worked in the past before, whenever you felt a panic attack coming.

''Breathe in 4-3- nope nope not working too much too loud'' you try but fail miserably at keeping your breathing under control. ''Shit'' you mutter, noticing that the feeling isn't passing and the panic only growing but how the hell did you end up hyperventilating, sitting on the bathroom floor of your university?

After Sally's relapse a few weeks back, you taking her to Mina's work and going cold-turkey, things have changed and somehow took a more unexpected turn than you expected to. Sally struggled and she struggled badly at first, she couldn't cope, constantly having you or Wilhemina around, not able to get out of the house, only on walks where you two would accompany her. There were times when she felt hatred towards you two, but not really you two more what you are doing to her or rather keeping Sally from doing to herself. There were a lot of sleepless nights, you and Wilhemina taking turns, watching her and guiding her through this journey of detoxing her body from the drugs. It was constant ups and downs, it was really hard at first with all the withdrawal symptoms and the times she would just be throwing up everything she would eat or drink and you and Wilhemina often debating whether you need to get doctors involved.

There were the good days when caffeine and nicotine helped Sally's urges and you three actually had really good days together, snuggled up on the sofa, watching everyone's favorite movies and enjoying the quiet and each other's company. Then things started going downhill, with Wilhemina having to go into work again and you looking after Sally while she was still at home , blogging from home and posting a lot to distract herself from the withdrawal symptoms.

Everything went okay at first, Mina leaving early in the morning like she usually would, with a lunch bag you packed for her the night before, just like you usually would. You woke up, snuggling closer to Sally and enjoying some quality time with her, before she sat on the sofa, working on her blog and you decided to carry on finishing your thesis because deadlines were coming up. You two sat on the sofa together in comfortable silence, just working and it was almost calming but just almost.

You were unaware that day, that Sally was fighting the most recent and hardest battle with her addiction and that her body was craving something more than just caffeine to fight this empty feeling. Maybe it was the fact that Wilhemina had to go to work and Sally knowing you are different than Wilhemina, not as strong, not as strict.

At first you thought everything was okay and when she got up, you absent-mindedly asked what she was doing, only for her to tell you she is going to the toilet. You didn't think too much of it until you heard things smashing, being thrown across the bathroom and so you instantly rushed inside the bathroom, only to find a very overwhelmed Sally, searching through every draw and cabinet to find something, anything even Mina's painkillers, just anything so she could feel release and at peace but you and Mina were smarter than that beforehand and hid any potential dangers.

''Sally'' you pleaded, understanding immediately what was going on. ''I don't fucking care Y/N I need something'' she screamed in your face while tears streamed down her cheeks. ''Where are your cigarettes?'' you asked feeling helpless, although you are very aware that cigarettes and the stuff Sally is used to, are very different. ''I ran out'' she admitted and you took a step closer to her, putting your hands on her shoulders, your eyes begging her to calm down.

''We can go and buy some right now, let's get dressed okay?'' you asked and it took two more meltdowns before she agreed to leave the house with you.

From that day on, things took a more positive turn however and you and Wilhemina got Sally to agree to go to group counseling therapy, where she would sit with a group of people, twice a week to talk about her feelings and experiences.

At first she really didn't want to go and begged you to go with her and of course you did. Sally settled in surprisingly well and she actually started looking forward to those meetings, you and Wilhemina insisted on driving her and somebody would always take her there and pick her up again after an hour. Whenever you drove her for the first few weeks, you would actually wait in the parking lot, just making sure she doesn't just pretend to go inside and leave again as soon as you or Wilhemina left.

But she didn't and you didn't learn the reason for this until a while later, because the aspect of socialising at these sessions really helped Sally. Having a group of strangers there, sharing similar stories and her finally understanding her behavior and learning that she isn't responsible for this and that it's a cycle that is very hard to escape, especially when attempting to fight it alone. She would regularly walk back to the car with the happiest smile, reaching another milestone, one week clean, two weeks clean and soon it will be one month.

Sally would talk about what she learned that day, what the others shared, she talked about someone there relapsing and how it made her feel. To motivate her further you bought this calendar and hung it the kitchen where she can mark her appointments but also her milestones.

Just when Sally, one of the two most important people of your life started doing better, you still aware that she isn't magically cured and still on this hard path of battling and fighting her demons, your other lover Wilhemina at last cracked under the pressure of the past few weeks.

With Wilhemina it's different than Sally, you would never find her broken and sad on the sofa after crying herself to sleep. You would never have her admit something is wrong, you would never hear a single complaint coming from her and that's the dangerous thing with the redhead. She is a master at hiding and shielding her emotions, of course, you got her to open up gradually and break those walls down, to get her to open up, get her to be honest, and communicate feelings or things on her mind, just like she would expect of you.

It all started with her physical therapy appointments, for years she has attended those for her back, she would do exercises there or do them at home. You being the mastermind at planning every aspect of your and their lives, you also wrote her appointments in the calendar and usually Wilhemina and Sally would tick of their appointments when finished but inspecting the calendar a bit closer one afternoon, you noticed that she hasn't ticked one off in a very long time.

''Maybe she forgot but went there'' you tried convincing yourself, remembering the many times she has told you she went to an appointment or did the exercises at home when you and Sally would be at work. It wasn't until two days later when you found out the truth, after Wilhemina calling you from work

''Little one, are you free?'' she asked and even though you were sitting in the university library, working of course you said you are because you know whenever Wilhemina calls and needs a favor it's urgent. ''Yes what is it Mina?'' you asked

''Can you call the doctors I need my pain medication again, I'm heading into a meeting now but I can pick up the prescription tomorrow morning'' she let you know and of course you did as she asked.

However, when ringing the doctors office, that you have sometimes rang or been to before when Mina needed something, they informed you that Wilhemina shouldn't be receiving any pain medication for another week, because she should still have some left and on top of that they informed you that she hadn't attended her physical therapy appointments in a while.

When the call ended you felt this silence, despite sitting outside of your university, hearing students talk, cars drive by and even some bird chirping, it was silent. Because that moment was a wakeup call, a slap from reality right in the face, reminding you that Sally isn't the only one fighting her battles even if she fights them more openly.

''It can't be a coincidence'' you tried reminding yourself and as you drove home that day your anxiety was so high, fearing Wilhemina's reaction and confronting her because you knew deep down already, no matter how you would possibly say it, she will be mad.

''For fucks sake Y/N I have attended those shitty appointment and I don't have medication left, those doctors are useless'' she cursed and neither you nor Sally have seen her like that in a while. You debated whether to fight her on this, get her to lash out but in the end admit the truth, let you and Sally in so you could be there for her and comfort her, just that never happened.

''It doesn't matter I will call them myself in the morning'' she told you. This has now been about a week ago and things became a little strange at home, Wilhemina and you wouldn't talk as much, of course, you talked, greeting each other and small talk but there was this huge wall standing between you two, none of you knowing whether to start and break it down.

Your mind being occupied by something entirely different, made it difficult to focus on Wilhemina or Sally in this past week, of course you asked them how they are, you listened, you made them baths, you did anything but university pulled you right into this ocean again, waves of responsibilities and deadlines crashing right at you.

Maybe you pushing away your own problems, stress and anxiety for over a month now, solely focussing on your two girlfriends and their wellbeing, reality and the lack of self care is finally hitting you, causing you to almost collapse on the bathroom floor of your university.

The sad part is that you did it, you finished your thesis about three days ago and today is finally the day where you are allowed to hand it in and finally have the stress come to an end, with no more obligatory classes now and you just having a break until you recieve your grades.

For the past five days or so, you haven't been able to sleep, eat or drink a lot. Of course you would occasionally force yourself to have a bite or some water or fall asleep, sitting in Mina's office in the middle of the night, reading over your thesis and work again and again. Usually before these things Mina would read over it, making sure you didn't get anything mixed up or any spelling mistakes, from all the hours of writing, researching. But within this past week, things have been so strange that you didn't want to ask her.

Still hyperventilating you are pulled out of the buzzing and loud thoughts when you hear your phone ringing. Closing your eyes, you hold your hand out and try reaching for your backpack and you manage to find a strap and pull it onto your body. Momentarily you wrap your arms around your bag as if it was a shield, stopping this crushing feeling in your chest, the pain and the thoughts, as if bullets of thoughts are being shot against you and your backpack shielding you.

But the vibration of your phone is tugging you out of this state yet again, even just for a moment. Somehow you manage to open the zip of your bag and you reach for your phone, the vibration making it easy to find with your eyes still closed, the dizzy feeling still too strong. Finally you manage to open your eyes and see Sally's photo through a blurry vision and you press the green button on your screen and the speaker button next, thinking it will be too much to actually lead the phone to your ear.

''Hi pumpkin'' her angelic voice rings through the speakers and somehow, even in this dark and scary moment you manage to smile. ''He- hey'' you manage to say and you can hear ruffling in the background

''I'm just going to one of my meetings and I was wondering how my pumpkin is doing'' she says and the crushing feeling in your chest, replaces with a fluttering feeling, you feel whenever being referred to as either their little one or pumpkin.

''By the way me and Mina were wondering when is your thesis due?'' she asks while lighting a cigarette in the car. ''I- today'' you say, feeling your breathing very slowly calming down and going to a more normal state.

''Today?'' she asks a bit shocked and she pauses for a moment, confused why you didn't mention that before, knowing how important that is to you. ''Yeah'' you mumble ''How come you didn't tell us, I could have taken you there today pumpkin or Mina could have read it again'' she asks.

Opening your eyes now, you see the time and realize you have to hand in your thesis now so you quickly try and prop yourself up, Sally's voice still right there, making you feel save and relaxed. ''I'm sorry I gotta go I have to hand it in now'' you explain and Sally nods before saying ''Good luck, love you pumpkin''.

After standing up and grabbing your bag slowly, you hold onto the bathroom walls, the last bit of stability that you have right now to hold on to, to shield you and keep you from losing control. After taking one more steady and deep breath, you unlock the door and walk towards the sink, putting some cold water on your wrists and also your face.

You open your backpack and grab a lemon gum because the sour taste usually distracts you from whatever is bothering you and the buzzing thoughts. Finally leaving the bathroom, you walk past the classrooms and hallways filled with students, for what kind of feels like one of the last times.

Your time at university flashes before your eyes in this moment, you see the main entrance and you remember the many times Sally or Mina would take you here on a monday morning after spending a beautiful weekend with them and them not having to go into work until the day later.

The places you stood, like your locker for instance, where Sally would sometimes call you and ask for help or Mina calling you and asking about your day and classes. You remember wandering these halls a few years back, before meeting Sally and Wilhemina and feeling confused as to how on earth you could ever get rid of this lonely feeling or the little skip of your heart, whenever you saw a couple kiss or hold hands. Then just about a year after, you found them and you then knew what it feels like to be held, to be kissed or to intertwine your hands with theirs.

''Oh hi there'' you hear Miss Anderson's voice and suddenly you snap out of your memories and thoughts. ''Hello Miss'' you reply with a polite smile and as you look at her you can see her features changing. ''Oh dear you don't look so well, are you okay?'' she asks and you simply nod, not really wanting to go into any details about your panic attacks or the state you were in moments before, but you can't deny how pale you are and how shaken you seem.

''Have you handed in your thesis yet?'' she asks but you shake your head ''I was just on the way'' you explain and she gives you an emphatic smile before saying ''I was just on my way over there too, come on'' and you follow her to the classroom where you are meant to hand it in.

As you arrive, you see some of your classmates, leaving the classroom, high-fiving each other and leaving with such a relieved and carefree expression, all the assignments, all the stress and exams finally over and the many sleepless nights now feeling like they were worth something.

You are greeted by Miss Parker ''Hi dear'' she greets you and you open your backpack and hand her your thesis with shaky hands, still not completely recovered from the panic attack. She looks at you, then Miss Anderson while retrieving the big folder that you carefully picked, every font, every word filled with so much detail. ''You just need to sign here now'' she explains and you do and she gives you a document after, that confirms you handed the biggest part of your entire work and time here, in now.

''You should probably get home and get some rest after all this exhausting time'' Miss Anderson suggests and you nod before Miss Parker jokingly says ''Oh come on she's young, she should be out celebrating'' and you smile at them before saying ''I will'' without explaining which suggestion you actually referred to and leaving the classroom with a polite smile.

#sally mckenna #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #ahs apocalypse #ahs fandom #american horror story #ahs icons #sally mckenna x wilhemina venable #sally mckenna x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs hotel #writing #watpad

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mascwhump · 4 years ago

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Chapter 3: She Burns Like Heroin

This came out a bit quicker than the last one, eh? Hope you enjoy! Oh and by the way, I’m still getting use to tagging TWs. Please let me know if I missed anything that might be triggering so I can edit the list :)

TW: Noncon drugging, drugs (mentioned), kinda creepy whumper, needles

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow

Charlie was moved into a larger room. The one before might as well have been a closet. This new room had white tile floors, white painted walls, and was sufficiently lit. The door was metal, leaving no hope of breaking it down. The only other way out of the room was through an air vent on the ceiling, but the ceilings were at least 10 feet high. Not that Charlie would fit into it, anyway. In the corner of the room was a little bathroom. It had a sink, toilet, and bathtub inside, with a curtain instead of a door.

Charlie was attached to the wall by chains on his wrists. They were about 5 feet long, which allowed a little movement. Small hooks stuck out of the walls in multiple places, along with some in the ceiling. Mallory had come in a few hours ago to show Charlie that the team had indeed been released.

Strangely, he wasn't as afraid as he could've been. He knew the team would be looking for him. He didn't think about whatever Mallory had planned on doing with him. It didn't matter. He'd be home soon.

Sleep came often. It was the fastest way to heal. When he wasn’t sleeping, he’d passed the time by daydreaming or counting to high numbers in his head. He was at 2,452 when someone entered the room. It was a small blond man carrying a tray.

"Hello, my name is Basil. I've brought a sandwich and some water for you," he said.

"Thanks, I guess,” Charlie replied.

Basil set the tray in front of Charlie and sat cross-legged a few feet away.

"I'm supposed to make sure you don't choke to death," he said.

Charlie laughed as he took a bite of the ham and cheese sandwich. He didn't like being watched while he ate, but he too hungry to care. He finished the sandwich quickly and downed the glass of water.

"Do you need to use the facilities?" Basil asked.

"'Facilities'? Yeah, I guess so," Charlie replied.

"Alright. Before I remove the restraints, do you promise not to attack me?" Basil asked.

"Yeah, I promise," Charlie said.

He was amused. The soft spoken tone and interesting word choices intrigued him. Basil definitely was out of place.

He used the restroom and was put back into the chains. Basil picked up the tray and left the room. He was almost robotic. It was like he was brainwashed into being some sort of orderly.

Charlie fell asleep soon after he left, counting to 300.

Days went by. It was the same routine every day. Basil would come three times a day to feed Charlie and take him to the restroom. The only other person he saw was a doctor. The doctor would check on his wound and change the bandages as needed. She never said a word to Charlie, aside from commands telling him what to do with his arm.

He was beginning to go a bit stir crazy. One could only count so much before all the numbers became a jumbled mess. He started a small exercise routine, mainly consisting of things he could do with his limited movement.

On the fifth day, things were a different. A few hours after Basil had given him breakfast, Mallory entered the room.

"Miss me?" He asked, walking in with a briefcase.

Charlie didn't reply. Mallory approached him, taking in his appearance.

"You look better than when I last saw you," he said.

"What's in the case?" Charlie asked, ignoring his comment.

"Remember how I told you that you're going to help change the world? Well, that starts today."

"I thought you said that would be after I healed."

Mallory opened the briefcase and pulled out a syringe. Inside of it was a dark blue liquid. It appeared to have a gold shine to it when the light hit just right.

"What the fuck is that?" Charlie questioned, pushing himself closer the wall.

"You're right, I did say it would be after you healed. And this here is what is going to heal you," Mallory explained.

He removed the cap of the needle and flicked the glass before commanding Charlie to put out his arm.

"No!" Charlie cried out, the sight of the needle making him dizzy.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and shielded his arms between them. He tucked his head down, effectively curling into a ball.

"Come on, Charlie," Mallory cooed, "don't you want to feel better?"

"Fuck you! This wasn't part of the deal!" Charlie yelled into himself.

He was shaking. Needles had always been a fear of his, and not knowing exactly what was inside of the syringe didn't help.

"I fulfilled my end of the deal. You fulfilled yours. Now, this isn't a deal. This is part of the real reason I kept you," Mallory explained, "I already knew everything you told me. I don't care about your team; they're useless to me. But you, Charlie..."

Charlie looked up. Mallory was kneeling in front of him now.

"When I had my surgeons fix up your shoulder, I also had them draw some blood. We did some tests. Charlie, you're perfect for this. You're just what-"

"Fuck. You," Charlie spat.

Mallory sighed. Something changed in his eyes. Charlie began to react when Mallory lunged forward and jammed the needle into his neck.

Charlie sat frozen as it began to feel like ice was flowing through his veins. Mallory pulled out the needle and tossed it to the side, watching as Charlie's pupils dilated. The ice quickly turned to fire, but the burn was almost pleasant. Charlie put his hands on Mallory's shoulders to hold himself steady as overwhelming euphoria took over his body. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up, and he let out shaky, shallow breaths.

"Talk to me," Mallory whispered, "how does it feel?"

Charlie couldn't get a word out. The pain in his shoulder suddenly subsided, and he couldn't help but giggle, as if he was on laughing gas. His arms went limp and he began to tip over, so Mallory took hold of him to keep him upright. After a few minutes, the effects began to decay.

Once he could hold himself up again, Mallory let go to begin unwrapping the bandage from Charlie's shoulder. Once off, it was revealed that the wound had completely healed, only leaving a small scar.

"It worked," Mallory said, almost in disbelief.

Charlie moved his shoulder around. Before, it would've been agonizing, but now, it was like he had never been shot.

"That's... how did you do that?" He breathed, still recovering from the intense sensation.

"That's one of the serums we've been working on," Mallory said, "the lab is calling it Q-179 for now."

"It's like some sort of healing potion," Charlie said, "I can't believe it."

"What did it feel like? I lost you for a minute there," Mallory laughed.

"Like nitrous oxide met heroin, or at least what I'm told heroin feels like," Charlie explained, "I've never felt anything like that before in my life."

Mallory retrieved the needle from where he had thrown it and put it back in the briefcase.

"So, it worked. Am I free to go now?" Charlie asked.

"No," Mallory said, "that was just the first test."

"What else do you need to test?" Charlie questioned, standing up.

"Its effectiveness on other types of wounds," Mallory replied, leaving the room before Charlie could respond.

Charlie sat back down. Other types of wounds? He was completely healed now, so that meant...

He pushed the thought away by thinking about what he just experienced. What kind of concoction could do something like that? What could make him feel like that?

After an hour, there were no signs of any hangover symptoms. If this got out, it would surely be a success, just for the recreational aspect. Charlie had never done drugs before, besides the one time he accidentally ate an edible, and he drank and smoked occasionally. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how good it felt.

Basil came in to feed him, and the routine went back to normal. He didn’t see Mallory again for three days.

#whump oc #whump #whumper #whump story #whump writing #oc

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cirrius-akiyo · 5 years ago

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KALEIDOSCOPE MIND

-Sequel to "Hold On (Let's Go Home)" & "Unpack the Baggage"-

____

Eddie has been told that the journey of recovery for his husband is a long one. Buck is still at various state of consciousness, drugged up to the point that he is befuddled in his wake or in and out of nightmare fueled doze.

They are still far from passing the crucial point in determining whether Buck will come out of this without deficit or not. Everyday is a waiting game for them.

Everytime Buck is awake, he will just simply look at Eddie as if he is trying to commit Eddie into his memory. Not a single word has come out from his mouth, just small smiles that have carved his lips and occasional hums. Eddie tries to convince himself that Buck needs the rest. That his brain has been injured and it will take some time to heal.

Eddie just want his husband back. They haven't really talk about the cursed night. Maybe it is his selfish desire to avoid anymore guilt and continue living on knowing that he might be the cause of his husband's death, but Eddie really despise the universe as much as himself for putting Buck in this state. He is so terrified to think that there's a possibility that Buck will die with the thought of Eddie's infidelity to be the last thing on his mind.

Their family and friends have come and go, providing neverending support and encouragement to both of them although he can feel like they are directed to him more than Buck. Carla has been bringing Chris from time to time, letting the boy to cuddle up with his Buck. Between the two of them, he feels like Chris is the pillar of strength that's supporting Eddie from crumbling down now that his foundation is currently fighting for his life in hospital bed.

Holding his husband limp hand in his grip, Eddie sometimes think that maybe...just maybe Buck doesn't want to wake up into this reality. That maybe Eddie had hurt him so bad that it pains him to wake up. Maybe Buck is happy to stay in the solace his mind had created.

"Lover of mine

Maybe we'll take some time

Kaleidoscope mind

Gets in the way

Hope and I pray

Darling, that you will stay

Butterfly lies

Chase them away

Hmm"

///

Eddie is at his side, thumbing the beautiful birthmark that he has comes to love while whispering soothing words into Buck's ears. Buck looks peaceful today and he's so beautiful like that despite the garish surrounding.

"I love you, Evan and I've missed you. I've missed you in our bed, in our home sweetheart." Eddie murmurs to the back of Buck's hand. The house seems like it has lose its colour. Chris had since been staying with Abuela or Carla and Eddie had went back only once to pack a bag for them.

The mind is a complicated thing, Eddie tries to ingrain the mantra into his belief. Buck is scheduled to be transferred out from ICU in day five post surgery. Today is day four of his stay.

Suddenly Buck's hand twitch in Eddie's hold, just like he had done sometimes before. Eddie is expecting to see another bout of Buck silently gazing at him while still swimming in the haze of sleep like he always do in his waking. What Eddie doesn't expect is for the hand to continue twitching and Buck's whole body suddenly jerking in an awful uncoordinated movement.

Seizure, his mind supplied. Buck is having a seizure. Eddie screams for help to the doctors outside while pleading for the twitching to stop. All the little progress Buck has made now might as well be useless.

Doctors and nurses come spilling into the room with one of them pushing Eddie out to the corridor. After a while, the heinous jerking stop and his husband is wheeled out of the room.

"Where are you taking him? Is he okay?" Eddie tries to follow through when a nurse stopped him from doing so.

"We'll do everything in our power to help him," the nurse said, not really a promise.

Just like that, Eddie is left alone again to wait. Unable to follow to where his husband is going.

"Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

Lead to where your secrets are

Where we've been a thousand times

Swallow every single lie

Take all of me"

///

Buck had suffered another small ruptured aneurysm and now they are back to square one, maybe even backward. Now he is on ventilator again and just like that the timer restarts.

Eddie feels like they were hurdled back ten yards with every ten steps forward they took.

Their family and friends have come running when he told them the news, preparing for the worst.

Chris is a welcomed weight on his lap that is doing a great job at keeping Eddie grounded. While Eddie's one hand is keeping Chris steady on his thighs, the other is playing around Buck's wedding ring between his nimble fingers.

Both weight assuring his tired mind that Buck will come back from this. He must be...he should be because Eddie doesn't know what will happen to him and Chris if he doesn't. Shannon's death had been devastating but Buck... No, he will not let his mind spiraling down there.

Instead, Eddie let his memory drifts to the moment Buck had said yes. The twinkle of his eyes can easily light up the highest skyscraper there is. Eddie knew then that he had made among the best decision in his life at that exact instant. And the twinkles make their appearance again when Buck walked down the aisle with Bobby giving him away. But the twinkles were even brighter when the judge decreed Chris' adoption paper.

The twinkles never really stop. Buck keeps showing them in different ways. When he calls them for dinner. When Chris hums in delight with every bite. When Chris says his goodnight. When Eddie compliments Buck's new shirt or sweater. When Eddie says the 'I love you's.

What he would give in order to see those bright twinkles again.

"I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made

Already made that mistake"

///

"S'hurt." Buck whines into Eddie's soothing caress. He stubbornly shuts his eyes close with a hand, sluggishly trying to block whatever light flashing at him.

"I know sweetheart, but Dr. Stevenson needs to test your cognitive functions so they will know you're okay." Eddie tries to comfort his distressed husband. Light sensitivity is to be expected but it still hurt Eddie to see Buck constantly flinching in pain.

"Alright Evan, can you tell us your full name again?" Dr. Stevenson then proceed to ask.

Buck huff in annoyance. Why can't they leave him alone to sleep? He already told them his name yesterday. He's so tired, why can't they see that?

"Evan..." Buck tries. Huh. Weird. He should know his name. "Diaz...uh," Buck's face contorted in panic as he tries to jog his memory. "...Buck." He cries in frustration. He should remember his name. Why can't he remember his name?

"Hey, hey Evan. It's okay if you can't remember now. You'll get it right soon." Eddie calms his upset husband while Buck kept whimpering in anguish.

Despite the initial scares, Buck's prognosis has been quite promising. He's off the ventilator and has been moved out from the ICU relatively quick. It took him some time to properly speak and even longer to open his eyes without flinching.

Most of the times he will be asleep, passed out from exhaustion from doing simple cognitive exercises. He is still experiencing memory gap and fogginess but that is all to be expected. His motor function is also improving despite the mild numbness.

"Eddie, m'scared." His voice barely a whisper. Confusion lacing his whole face. His head feels heavy and the fatigue just doesn't seem to go away.

"Come here." Eddie slides into the hospital bed, wary of the wires and IV snaking around Buck. Buck automatically latched himself to Eddie's side while Eddie wipes some stray tears that are staining Buck's cheek away.

"Tired. Hurt." Buck sniffles brokenly, face nuzzling deeper into Eddie's neck.

"I know. I know. But you are doing so much better, sweetheart." Eddie gingerly tracing patters on Buck's back, feeling the warm puff of breath cradling his own neck.

Comfortable silence slowly stretched between them with Buck is finally at the edge of sleep. Eddie pulls Buck tighter into his embrace, anchoring Buck to his chest.

"Don'wanna forget you n'Chris," Buck mumbles, already half asleep.

It never gets easier to see your supposedly strong and healthy husband broke down in tears for not remembering his own name. At how he was defeated by his own mind.

"Lover of mine

I know you're colorblind

I watched the world fall from your eyes

Ooh

All my regrets

And things you can't forget

Light them all up

Kiss them goodbye"

///

After three weeks of camping at the hospital, Buck is finally home. Little by little, the colours are coming back to their little house.

Buck amazingly had come out relatively unscathed after two brain surgeries aside from frequent dizziness, mild exhaustion and occasional numbness.

Abuela has moved in with them temporarily despite Buck's protest, arguing that Carla is still going to be there from time to time and that he'll not be left alone for more than one hour at most. That Chris is also capable to call for help if anything (God forbids) happen.

Meanwhile, Eddie has returned back to work albeit reluctantly. Shifts, long or short are never the same without Buck sitting next to him in the rig or at dinner table. He was mulling over some chores when suddenly his phone pings with new notification. With Buck stuck at home, Eddie never lets his phone out of sight in case if emergency.

The content of the notification put a wide grin on his face. It was a shaky image of Buck sleeping on the couch while holding what seems like Eddie's t-shirt from last night. Which Eddie knows has been put into the laundry basket. Eddie can't really make out the details of Buck's features with the image being so blurry. Not that he'll tell Abuela that if he wants to keep receiving them in the future.

As for now, he has another six hours to go before he can go back to cuddle his awaiting husband.

///

The house is silent when Eddie returns with darkness washing over every corner, save for the night light coming from Chris' room.

Naturally, Eddie skips over to Chris' room first to check on his son and found him safely tucked in bed, deep in sleep. A soft smile cracked on his lips.

He then proceeds to check on Abuela who is residing in the guest room. Abuela is making a habit of leaving the bed room door cracked open a little, in case Buck or Chris need her.

Satisfied, Eddie slowly enters into his and Buck's bedroom, tip toeing on his feet as to avoid disrupting his sleeping husband. Instead, Eddie is met with an empty room. Confused, he checks the bathroom but only to find it unoccupied.

Worry starting to creep into his gut when the couch in the living room is also vacant. He double check to confirm Buck's jeep is still parked beside his truck.

Eddie is ready to tear down the house and even the street to find Buck when from the corner of his eyes, he can see the light in the backyard patio is on.

Lo and behold; there lies Buck, sleeping on the patio swing, snuggled between a thick blanket and fluffy pillow. The book he was reading long forgotten on the wooden deck. Eddie can't help from smiling.

Another side effect that come out from this is Buck's ability to fall asleep almost anywhere at anytime seems to be amplified.

He's lucky the night is not as chilly as usual or he'll get a nasty scolding from Abuela (and Carla, even Athena and Maddie, Hen included, oh and not to forget Bobby's disapproval and Chim's teasing) if he's able to get a cold cause he 'foolishly' slept outside instead in their warm bed.

Eddie steps forward to his husband, expertly avoiding any creaking wooden planks before kneeling in front of the slumbering man. He can't help himself but to stroke the soft curls casing Buck's face. Days without any products bring about the glorious wave of hair. Buck needs a haircut sooner than later, or he'll fuss over his hair being unmanageable.

"Evan." Eddie calls softly, trying to pull Buck out of his sleep.

"Hmm." Buck ends up snuggling even deeper under the cocoon.

"Let's go to bed, darling." Eddie coaxes.

"Don'wanna."

"I promise you, you'll regret it tomorrow." Eddie threatens passively.

"But it's so comf'able, Eddie." Buck whines, all bleary-eyed.

Eddie sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. Buck can be stubborn if he wants to, no matter how adorable he might look doing it.

Gathering all of his might, Eddie scoops up Buck, still swaddled in his blanket. Surprisingly, no protest is coming out from his husband. Rather, Buck nestles his face into Eddie's chest while his hands embracing Eddie's neck like a koala. Eddie can't stop but to notice how much weight has Buck lost. They'll work on that later.

Eddie then cautiously deposit Buck onto their bed, fixing the blanket and fluffing his pillow. Just like that, Buck is off to his dream land again.

Buck is a constant ball of energy. Bright, bold and loud. Seeing him sleeping so much is disheartening even though Eddie knows he needs it.

Encassed in the deafening silence of the night, Eddie chest tightens whenever he thinks about how he almost lost this. Sense of dread envelopes him everytime he remembers how Buck almost slipped from his hold.

Pulling Buck tighter against his embrace, Eddie renews his wedding vows silently under his breath.

"Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

Lead to where your secrets are

Where we've been a thousand times

Swallow every single lie

Take all of me"

///

They are in the kitchen, trying to decide on dinner now that Abuela has returned back to her house. Not before leaving lengthy strict instructions for both of them with quarter of them related to their 'rumpy-pumpy'. "That boy needs his rest, Edmundo." She had quipped before leaving.

Giving his husband a quick glance, Eddie feels like it's the time to address the elephant in the room.

"Evan, we haven't exactly talk about that night." Eddie starts, trying to fish out Buck's attention, whose face currently deep inside the freezer trying to formulate the course of dinner.

Buck closes the fridge and slowly turns to face Eddie, expressionless. Eddie can't help but to reminisce how Buck's face was frozen on that fateful night. Tingling sensation suddenly wash over his whole being.

"I know you were in pain, perhaps still are but...please tell me how can I make it up to you." Eddie continues when Buck remains silent. He then delicately pulls Buck waist towards him, embracing into the warmth.

After a beat, Buck lets out a deep breath, returning Eddie's hug and settling against his chest.

"I was angry at you Eddie, I'm not gonna lie." Buck starts. That got Eddie all wide eyed. He tries to loosen the hug, but Buck keeps him at his place.

"When I was under, I thought about how Ana could replace me in your and Chris' life." Buck whispers into the crook of Eddie's neck.

"How easy for her to fit it in. How easy for Chris to love her. How easy for you to love her. How she's able to give you a child or two if you want to. How perfect the picture will be. How easy I am to be forgotten." Buck forlornly confess. The ominous shadow of his mind is not some place inviting.

Eddie frowns with guilt and shame but as he tries to say something, he is quickly cut by Buck.

"But then, I woke up to your voice, your hands warm against mine. And when I am able to see, watching you sitting there beside me, all of my insecurities fly away. I know I must have look horrible but you still stay. Laying in the hospital bed is not exactly sexy, you know." Buck chuckles, tightening his hold against Eddie's strong back.

Eddie laughs lightly but it was hard to imagine how Buck must have felt at that time. Confused and in pain. Unable to control his body and mind.

Eddie then slowly moves his hand upwards to cup Buck's face, short stubble soft against his palms.

Gazing into the baby blues, Eddie can see the uncertainty storming under the irises. Eddie tenderly brush the bottom of Buck's lips with his. "Evan, no matter what condition you'll be in the future, I promise you, I'll stay. I've made a mistake and I'm going to make it right by you if you let me." Another soft kiss lingers.

Eddie's fingers later find themselves cupping Buck's neck and Buck melts into the kiss. Before they know it, they keep kissing like their lives depend on it.

"I actually thought if I was killing you with my confession. Whether it was better if I just keep my mouth shut." Eddie admits a bit later, with their foreheads against each other fighting for a breather.

"Hey, don't do that to yourself. If anything, I'm partially to blame. I've been ignoring the signs, dismissing them as stress or lack of sleep." Buck tries to balm Eddie's guilt. "And it's better for the news to come out from your rather than hearing it from someone else."

Nevertheless, Eddie still can't forget how limp his husband body was laying against him in the station's locker room. At how pale his husband has been. No matter how hard Eddie tried to rouse him, Buck's eyes had remained shut.

Easy silence washed over them, swaying together in a tight embrace to the mute music only they can hear.

"Evan, I am sorry."

"I know."

Eddie paused. "No, seriously. I am so fucking sorry."

Buck smiles fondly. "And I seriously fucking know it."

"Just don't do it again." Buck parroted what Eddie had previously said to him with a sly grin. Oh God, the sexual tension back then had been overbearing.

Just like that, Eddie feels like the axis of his world sets to right again, spinning gracefully. Not as halted or indented as before.

"I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made

Already made that mistake"

(Lover of Mine - 5 Seconds of Summer)

#cirrius akiyo's bunkdump #buddie fanfiction #buddie #buddie fic #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #911 fics #911 fic #911 fanfic #Rambler not Writer #evan buckley #edmundo diaz #songfic

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blarrghe · 4 years ago

Note

"Watching me while I sweat from exercising" for Dorianders because... of reasons? XD

Up on AO3 or uner the cut! (the formattinig is probably better on AO3 tumblr is the actual worst)

Befriending Magister Dorian Pavus continued to be the worst decision Anders had made since the one that had landed him in Tevinter in the first place. Not at the least because being friends with Magister Dorian Pavus was, on a scheduling level, practically impossible. It was almost maddening, how neither of them ever seemed to have any blighted free time. There was Dorian, very important and very busy, always rushing off to meetings or press events or fundraisers or galas, only available for a quick coffee or for trying to convince Anders to go out clubbing at two in the morning. Which, frankly, he had less than no interest in doing — for several reasons, only minimally to do with the fact that the music gave him a headache (the thought of standing by and watching Dorian dance and practice his smarmy lines on attractive club goers made up most of the rest of it). And then there was his own life, overflowing with unkempt medical notes and overdue bills, and a schedule packed with night shifts and on-call hours that made maintaining a regular sleep schedule impossible, never mind a social life. But despite all that, it was nice to have someone to talk to again. Someone passionate and revolutionary and witty and… just about as lonely as he was, so better not to go messing it up. Better to try to maintain this one terrible friendship — the only one he had that wasn't with a "work friend", or a cat. It was just a really difficult thing to do, between the unrepenting workdays and restless nights filled with dreams of his beautiful Maker-damned face.

Dorian, however, was remarkably good at being his friend. He always managed to make time. Drew it out of thin air, it seemed, conjured it up like magic between his press conferences and business trips. He had this impossibly serendipitous way of always seeming to send a text offering to meet for coffee right as Anders' break was coming up, and thanks to his own life of impossible hours he was always amenable to a spot of caffeine well into the evening. Other times, he'd offer up an address, saying "meet me here tonight if by the end of your shift you're still alive", and Anders would reply "doubtful", and then show up later anyway to the movie theater, or concert hall, or burlesque playhouse, only to fall asleep in his seat once the lights went down — which, at the burlesque playhouse at least, everyone seemed to find incredibly amusing.

Today, his shift would be finished at an uncommonly early hour, having started at one that was painfully so. And even though his work-to-sleep ratio for the week was currently hovering at around four to one, when a text came in from Dorian during his break that read simply, "lunch later? Meet me if you have an hour free." He cheerfully replied "I'm off at noon!" And decided to postpone his much-needed afternoon nap. Friends with Dorian, he smiled, terrible decision.

----

Anders did not work out. Whatever strength he had he came by naturally, by way of pushing hospital equipment around and running up and down stairs all day. His calves, as a result, were particularly firm, and he had defined, if skinny, biceps. His core was probably strong enough, what with the constant balancing act that was keeping up with his daily life, but if he had wanted abs he would probably have to do something about his diet; more protein, fewer sugary carbs, meals that weren't eaten while standing on a city bus. But a personal beauty routine had always been low on his priority list. If he was looking to impress someone, he usually tried to get his bad jokes and the somewhat trashy rebel-mage aesthetic (which he also came by naturally) to do the job for him. It was not, historically, the best strategy. But he also wasn't looking. Dorian, on the other hand, had beauty routines for his beauty routines. Apparently the way to make up for the sleeplessness of a busy life was to exercise regularly, drink exceptionally expensive vitamin concoctions (despite the fact that his friend, who was a doctor, had told him repeatedly that the vitamins in such quantities were oversaturated, contradictory, and essentially useless), and to apply a laundry list of products to one's skin and hair — that, at least, seemed to work.

And so it was that when Anders showed up at the designated spot, practically asleep on his feet and slouching eagerly off the bus towards the promise of an hour of good company and food, that he discovered that the place Dorian had instructed him to meet at was not a restaurant, or even a coffee shop, but a gym. A gym with wide glass windows facing the street, so that the gorgeous, obviously affluent, gym-membership-holders could sweat it out while on display for the benefit of all the less beautiful and less lucky passersby. Or perhaps it was the other way around, and rich people got a kick out of running in place for their health while watching working folk run breathlessly after the busses that pulled up to the dirty old bus shelter on the street outside. Anders didn't know, he didn't go to gyms. But Dorian did; he went to this gym. He paid an exorbitant membership fee and wore a tight t-shirt branded with the gym's logo while he ran himself sweaty on a treadmill, spraying fancy water into his mouth like he was advertising the stuff, and towelling himself off with the clean white towels provided while still running, panting with the efforts of his impressively athletic exertions. This, Anders discovered by staring at him as he did it, through the clear glass window from the street, his mouth falling open and throat going dry until Dorian spotted him, and he snapped his mouth shut while his cheeks went red. Dorian's cheeks were also red, a bead of sweat dripping down over one in a long glistening trail from his temple. He pressed some buttons on the treadmill, slowed down to a walk, smiled, and waved. Anders, like a dumbfounded puppet on a string, raised his hand and dropped it again, in some approximation of returning the greeting.

Ten minutes later, Dorian met Anders outside the door of the clean, white and minimalist setting of the gym's lobby with his regular (still tight) clothes on and his damp hair fragrant with some kind of rich, flower-infused cream.

"You got here faster than I expected, sorry you had to wait."

"Good bus timing," Anders shrugged, pointedly not looking at him. One intolerable sensation at a time, and he still smelled amazing.

"You know there's an app for the schedules, GPS tracking and everything." Dorian commented. Why he knew that, when he'd probably never taken public transportation in his life, Anders couldn't guess. But then, Dorian was infinitely more organized than he was; good with schedules. Anders, meanwhile, struggled to keep his own thoughts straight, never mind the kinds of itineraries that Dorian kept. So he just nodded along, certain that he would never remember to check, or even download, the recommended app.

Dorian led them up to the intersection, and pressed the button at the crosswalk, every simple movement somehow upright and deliberate. "So, lunch? I'm starving, there's a great place across the street."

Anders glanced back at the gleaming white and chrome of the gym, and the equally sleek boutiques to either side of it. He frowned, fingering the well-worn leather billfold in his pocket. "How great?" He asked, cautiously.

"Great as in healthy, all vegan food and local produce and the like." Dorian smirked at him, and Anders made the mistake of looking at it. He blushed, and frowned some more.

"Oh, great." He said, with very little enthusiasm. A twelve dollar salad and one of those ludicrous vitamin waters, just what he and his malnourished billfold needed.

"You're a doctor, you can't live on cup noodles and granola bars all the time. It sets a bad example." Dorian berated, lightly, in return.

"At least cup noodles have salt." Anders protested, "Maybe too much, but that's better than none at all. And you know organic is just a buzzword, not everything organic is healthier. And the hoops of getting branded "Organic" just make it harder for actual family owned farmers, who grow perfectly healthy crops, to market to sellers," he ranted about it, albeit halfheartedly, until Dorian sighed and shook his head.

"Which is why I said local, not organic. And I've been, I promise they use seasonings. You really think I'd debase myself by dining somewhere that didn't know how to properly use spice?"

Anders grunted, still disapproving.

"It's good, really. You'll like it there, they have cats."

"They have…?" Anders spun to watch Dorian, squinting in confusion at him as he brightened the world about him with another one of those obnoxiously perfect smiles.

"Cats, they're all very tame. You can sit with them while you eat or play with them afterwards. An endeavour of the local animal shelter to help encourage adoption, as I understand it." Dorian explained casually. Then the light changed and he set off walking. Anders followed, significantly less grumpily, though now his stomach was turning flips for an entirely different reason besides hunger.

Forget Kirkwall, actually. Befriending Dorian was, hands down, the absolute worst decision he’d ever made.

#dorianders #dorian x anders #my fic #my writing #modern au #dragon age fanfic #friends to lovers #mutual idiot pining #dorian #anders #what if we were

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mediocre--writing · 5 years ago

Text

Sinking

Peter Parker x OC (Tessa Kennedy)

Summary: Things take a turn for the worse when TK receives earth-shattering news that could affect the rest of her life. How will things work out when everything is sinking around her?

Word Count: 5,548

Warnings: cancer, panic attack, language, gay couple(?)

****haha let’s pretend that Endgame never happened :)

Tessa Kennedy, a junior at Midtown High School, an amazing school full of nerds, that for some reason had multiple sports teams, that weren’t that bad. Tessa, known to everyone by TK, was on her school’s Varsity Soccer team, one of the best on the team.

She was eager, confident, tactical, and had more energy than 14 Red Bulls. Beyond the soccer field, she was also friendly to most everyone at her school, save for Flash Thompson, who was the world's biggest douchebag.

She wasn’t all that smart at Midtown, where the kids there were all geeky and nerdy, but she still did well, never getting lower than a B in any of her classes.

TK wasn’t popular like you might think she is, but she is well known, she just doesn’t hang around the “popular kids,” but stays within her little group, consisting of Peter Parker, MJ, and Ned Leeds, who were all odd in their own special ways.

Peter was a geeky little twerp, one that couldn’t say a sentence without stuttering at least once, but he was also someone who loved his friends and family fiercely and without hesitation. Ned, also a huge geek, was kind and soft, sweet and always meant well, even if he didn’t exactly do well. MJ, unlike Peter and Ned, was more of a nerd, keeping to her books rather than a movie franchise, and knew more about everything than she would let on.

TK loved her friends, she enjoyed watching Star Wars with the boys and reading whatever poetry book MJ was into at the moment, but she liked being active more than they did, she didn’t sit still for too long, and always had energy to spare and definitely didn’t need an espresso shot, something Peter learned in their Freshman year after a little incident where she shattered the lamp in his room because she was jumping and dancing around after he got them coffee.

Nevertheless, the quartet was best of friends, and they all knew Peter’s little secret after an incident after Homecoming when Ned spilled the beans to the girls during his babbling rant about how he’s worried about Peter.

Through the ups and downs of their friendship, they were always there for one another, TK went to all the decathlon competitions she could get to and in return, they would attend her soccer games. They would always lift each other when they were down, MJ would distract, Peter would comfort, Ned would use the phrase “laughter is the best medicine” and execute it perfectly, and TK would be there to binge-watch Netflix or eat until there were no carbs left untouched.

All different, yet all the same, the quartet stayed together for the past three years, being there for each other and smacking (whether literally or metaphorically) Flash when he was being a douche.

Now, it was November, the month of TK’s birthday, and she was getting more and more excited for the 9th to come around so she could celebrate with her friends and dads, but something was happening.

TK was constantly getting pains in her right leg that were off and on, but the pain was excruciating. It seemed as though her ankle and knee were also growing as if swollen, but she couldn’t get it to go down.

She didn’t like having problems, it made her feel like she was incapable of anything, but she knew something was wrong when, after a few weeks, she had lost fifteen pounds off her muscular body. She was eating, she was still exercising, and everything was going just fine, but her leg would bother her over and over again, and no medicine was helping ease the pain, so she needed to make a decision.

“Dad, Bub,” TK said coming into their apartment’s living room, where her fathers sat on their gray couch, drinking their evening coffee.

“What’s up, darling?” Her Bub, Kris, said, turning over the back of the couch to face her.

TK’s Bubba (or ‘Bub’ for short), Kris was a brunette, tan skin, and a muscular build, very active, and TK’s real father. Her dad, Anthony, was blonde, a pale guy, but one of the kindest that she’d ever met, very empathetic and understanding.

“I think there’s something wrong with my leg,” TK said as she sat down on the other end of the couch, across from where Kris had his arm around Anthony, but they parted when they heard what was bothering her.

“Why, what hurts?” Anthony asked, placing a hand on her arm, between her shoulder and elbow.

“I don’t know, it’s like, not how a bruise hurts, it’s deeper than that, but it doesn’t feel broken, and my joints on my right leg are kinda swollen, but Advil or whatever aren’t helping with pain and, I don’t know, just thought I should tell you.”

She finally raised her head from where she was playing with the pattern on a pillow, distracting herself. Her hazel eyes met theirs, and she felt pity for herself just by the way they were looking at her.

“Okay, do you wanna go to the doctor, I can make an appointment?” Anthony asked her, rubbing up and down her arm, comforting her nerves as he ran his hand over the goosebumps on her arm.

“Yeah, dad, I think--yeah.” TK stood from her spot on the couch, walking back to her room at the end of the hallway, limping slightly.

When she sat on her bed, she thought her leg might just break, the pressure from the rest of her body made it feel as though it was a piece of uncooked spaghetti that could snap with the slightest pressure.

Letting out a breath, she laid back, pulling the thin blanket over her body, knowing good and well she would be stressing through a better part of the night.

She couldn’t sleep, it was hard enough to think about how she was nervous about her leg, but she didn’t feel the slightest bit excited about her 17th birthday tomorrow, which she had been looking forward to for the past month or two, thinking of what she could do with her friends on her special day, but now she dreaded the thought.

About 3 months later, TK was facing the final decisions.

Turns out, Bone Cancer runs in the family on her mother’s side and was a contributing factor to why she died. And, apparently, it was a huge problem that she wasn’t telling her friends, at least, according to her Dad and Bubba.

She knew what had to happen, it wasn’t a decision, the cancer was spreading and rejecting the chemo treatment, TK either had to let cancer spread to her other bones or amputate her right leg.

So many thoughts went through her head as she walked through the halls of Midtown High on Friday, the fact that she wouldn’t be coming back for the next few weeks, and the fact that she still hadn’t told her friends. There was also the fact that she wouldn’t be able to play soccer this season, and this was when they began to look for scholarship options for college, but what else did she have to lose?

A leg, she had a leg to lose.

The tan lockers mocked TK as she walked the halls to her locker, next to Ned and Peter’s.

“Hey, T,” Peter said as he dug through his locker, looking for whatever he was looking for, Ned on the other side of him.

“Hey, boys,” TK said softly, placing books in her locker and grabbing what she needed for gym and English class. “What plans do you guys have after school?”

“Nothing,”

“Patrol,” Peter and Ned said at the same time, looking over to TK’s freckled face, which looked much paler than she usually appeared.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, stopping the search for whatever he needed in his locker, turning fully to the brunette next to him.

“Something,” TK sighed softly, “That’s why I wanted to talk to you guys, and MJ, after school, at my place. Pete, can you stay for like half an hour, just for a bit, it won’t affect any part of your patrol, I promise.”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter said, his brown eyes looking at TK’s face, then trailing down to where she leaned more on her left leg, leaning against her locker weakly.

TK continued shutting her locker and walking off to her gym class, where she would be gleefully doing sit-ups instead of the mile run that would be happening next week, but not for her.

“She look...like, super sick to you?” Ned asked from Peter’s shoulder, causing the brunette to turn quickly, his curls flopping on his head as he saw Ned’s face.

“Yeah, kinda.” Peter watched as she walked over to MJ, who was a few lockers down, talk for a moment, then limp towards the gym. “She’s all limpy, and sad. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah,” Ned said as he looked in his locker for the last time, then turning to Peter, “We better get to gym class.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said blankly as they walked towards the gym.

Through the day, Peter, Ned, and MJ would always be watching TK around the school, because at least one of them would be in the same class as her, then lunch, then the last two classes of the day.

Finally, TK’s Bubba picked up the four of them from school, since none of them bothered to get a drivers license given they could ride a train, taxi, or bus wherever they needed to go.

The car ride to her apartment complex was tense, Kris tried to turn on music in order to fill the car with a sound other than breathing, but it was useless, the once happy, cheery, daughter he had was now falling into a depressive state, now that one of the only things she loved was being ripped away from her, possibly for good.

Once parked, they all grabbed their bookbags and walked to their apartment, each teen grabbing a bottle of water and some snacks from the pantry, then retreating to TK’s room.

The boys and MJ were staring at her, and though they all held different expressions, they were all eager to hear what was wrong with their friend.

“Tomorrow,” TK began after taking a sip from her water bottle, “I’m being admitted into the hospital for about a week.”

She took a deep breath in, trying to not cry again, she’d been doing enough of that lately.

Peter, Ned, and MJ were all shocked, confused, and curious.

“I- I have bone cancer that started in my right thigh, and has spread down.” TK’s voice was breaking, making it hard for her to talk clearly, “And I tried chemo, but my body rejected it, and now the only option is to either let it spread, or-or I…”

MJ grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly, encouragingly, as if telling her that it’s okay and that she’s fine.

“I have to have my entire right leg, and some of my hip, amputated tomorrow.”

With the final admission of truth, TK pulled MJ closer, holding onto her jacket with a death grip as she sobbed into her shoulder, brown hair sticking to her teary face.

The room was no longer tense and awkward, it was now sad, depressing, and filled with understanding. While MJ was hugging her, a few stray tears fell down her face, and Peter and Ned said nothing, only staring into the abyss, conflicted on if they should say or do anything.

After a good 10 minutes of TK getting herself together, MJ comforting her, and the boys looking at the girls, then each other, the moment ended.

“Do you guys wanna stay over?” TK asked, wiping the stray tears off with her sleeve, “Bubba already said it was okay as long as you guys slept on the floor and we left the door open.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, ignoring the fact that he should be patrolling around now, TK was a larger priority then a purse getting stolen. “Let me call Aunt May real quick,”

MJ and Ned also texted their parents, getting the okay that they could stay over, Peter was the final decision.

“I can stay, I just gotta talk to Mr. Stark tomorrow around 10 am,” Peter said with a dorky smile.

“Great,” TK grinned, leaning on the pillows at the head of her bed. “Let me ask if we can order Chinese food or something, what do you guys want?”

They all agreed on the Chinese place a few blocks down, ordering delivery from TK’s phone, then they proceeded to talk and laugh. After they ate their food, talked some more, watched Netflix, talked even more, then got in their places for bed (MJ and TK on the bed, the boys on the blow-up mattress on the floor), they finally began falling asleep.

All except TK and Peter.

“Why’re you up?” Peter asked, looking at TK’s freckled face in the moonlight from the window.

“Nerves, I guess.” TK turned on her side to face Peter, “What about you?”

“Well, it’s only 2 am,” Peter chuckled, “I’m usually swinging from building to building right now. Guess it’s an internal clock.”

“When do you have time to do anything, Pete, like you always have homework done, you never look tired, and yet you only go to class and swing around in upgraded spandex.”

They both giggled at her statement, “Dunno, guess it just all clicked together after a month or so, didn’t need much sleep, and I do homework in class.”

“Wow, I don’t even understand the material when I’m paying attention, don’t think I could do homework during it too.”

“Eh, not that bad.” Peter shrugged, “Go to sleep, T, you need it. You’ve been a zombie for the past few days.”

“Only if you do too, P.”

Peter sighed dramatically, “If you insist, I guess I’ll get more than two hours of sleep tonight.”

“How can you live off two hours of sleep, I’ve been sleeping like six hours for all of high school and I still sleep in class.”

After chuckling again, Peter didn’t say anything, and after a few minutes, he felt himself drifting asleep to the sound of Ned’s snoring and the girl’s soft breathing.

The next morning, Peter woke up with the light shining in his eyes from the large, open window in TK’s room.

As his eyes adjusted, he realized that Ned was gone and the girls were on the bed giggling because of whatever was on TK’s phone.

He took in the sight, a late morning, the rough sunlight across his cheeks that wasn’t from watching the sunrise on top of his building, and not having to worry about what was going on in the streets below.

“Hey, Peter?” He heard a voice, TK’s, from the bed as he sat up slowly. “It’s 9 and you have to meet with Stark at 10, so you may want to get ready or whatever you do,”

Peter sat up a bit quicker, he was still in his clothes from yesterday and his hair was probably a mess, as it was in the morning, and he had to talk to Mr. Stark.

From TK’s view, he looked adorable, his eyes couldn’t focus and his hair was every which way, and he was freaking out because he was about eight seconds away from Stark Tower when he swung over.

Her attention was pulled away from her, however, when MJ showed her another meme on her phone.

The morning was slow, Ned had left at around 7 because his parents needed him home, and Peter left at about 9:30, after attempting to look like he hadn’t slept in the clothes he had on and used some of TK’s Bub’s deodorant religiously.

Little did TK know that Peter had a huge surprise up his sleeve for her.

TK had to leave for the hospital at around noon, and MJ said that, if it was okay, she would go with her then leave when she was taken back for operation, as moral support. In reality, TK knew that MJ just didn’t want to go back to her bland house where her parents were probably at work anyway and she’d be lonely. She appreciates the thought anyway because she needed her Emotional Support MJ with her right now.

It was a long car ride, or maybe it just felt that way because she knew what happened when the car stopped. Michelle ignored the death grip on her hand when they were in the backseat because she knew that TK was so ready for this to be over, but she also never wanted it to end, because it would be the end of something much more important.

“Hey, MJ,” She asked quietly, as to not get the attention of the men in the front seat, though it was impossible for them to not hear, though they remained impartial to their daughter’s secrets that were being shared in the backseat.

“Hmm?” MJ replied, turning to the brunette next to her, pulling her hair from where it was squashed between the seat belt and TK’s sweatshirt that was borrowed years ago, yet never given back.

“Are you still going to look at me the same after this?” It came out so tense, MJ could tell that it had been said multiple times in her head before actually coming out.

“No,” MJ told her simply, causing TK’s eyes to widen and snap to hers as she chuckled, “I’m going to see you as someone who is so much stronger than I thought before. As someone who does so much for everyone else that she is now going to realize that we’re here to help you too. And we’re not helping you out of pity, we’re going to be there for you because it’s what you would do for any of us, what you have done for us all.”

TK wiped a tear off her face, “Fuck you,”

The girls laughed as Kris shot her a glare through the rearview mirror, but there wasn’t much he could do, she had inherited his sailor's mouth.

Then, the car stopped, they got out, they prepared for the worst, TK was taken back, MJ was driven back by Anthony, and the kids didn’t hear from either father about TK all day, or the next day.

But they went through it, it was fine.

She was strong, she would be fine.

At least that’s what they kept telling themselves.

It had been three days since TK’s surgery.

She was finally letting her friends come to the hospital to see her. She didn’t truly want them to come, but she knew that if roles were reversed, she would want more than anything to be invited to see her friend when they weren’t well.

So she invited them all, Peter showed up first, with flowers (that were missing a few petals, she assumed that he swung to the hospital), then MJ, and finally Ned.

It was surprisingly nice, how they didn’t seem to treat her any differently than before, how normal it seemed, and how odd it was that they didn’t mention the fact that she never took the blankets off her legs -- leg.

Not that it wasn’t hard, Ned almost asked multiple times, earning a kick from Peter, and they wanted nothing more than to see her true feelings, how sad she was about the situation, even though it did help her in the long run.

She was happy, joking, smiling, but it wasn’t real.

Her wonderful hazel-blue eyes didn’t glitter like they usually did and she wasn’t talking with flailing arms like she did when she was passionate about something.

She left her hair up in a bun the whole time, when it was known that she hated the shape of her face when it was up too tight.

She was careless about herself, and only talked about her friends, homework assignments, or whatever nurse drama she’d heard.

Though Ned wasn’t as close with her as MJ and Peter, he still saw a few ticks from her that screamed oddity, but he wouldn’t bring it up. If the others, who knew her better and longer, didn’t talk about it, then he had no right to either.

They played Uno for about an hour, and it made TK smile, genuinely smile, more than she was before, when Peter continuously got +4 cards, courtesy of MJ, who was switching with Ned, and giving them to TK, who enjoyed the fact that Peter, at one point, had 32 cards in his hands.

It all ended around 4:15, when a nurse came in and told them that visiting hours were over, and they had to leave.

TK didn’t smile for the rest of the day.

For the rest of her time in the hospital, she made sure to FaceTime Peter and MJ twice everyday, unless they were together, then she only had to do it before she went to bed.

None of the friends had yet to see anything below her ribs, either, they understood why, but they felt bad that she felt the need to hide it from them, whether it be intentional or not.

On the 8th day, TK was finally released from the hospital, led from the hospital to Anthony’s car in a wheelchair, and sat in the backseat, Anthony in the drivers, and her Bubba in the backseat with her.

“What’s going to happen now?” TK asked quietly to Bubba as they drove home.

“You’re going to physical therapy for the next few months, then it will only be biweekly or so.” Kris babbled off.

“No, no.” TK said, closing her eyes in frustration. “I mean what’s going to happen to me? I’m not able to go to school for a while, and Prosthetics cost a fortune, and I can’t do anything, and how am I supposed to go to college now? I’m only average at school and soccer was the only thing that would stand out in a college resume and I can’t even do that anymore, so what am I doing? What’s going to happen?”

He was taken aback, and so was Anthony, this was not what they expected.

“I-- I don’t know right now, Darling,” Kris swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing, “But we’ll all be okay, I promise.”

He pulled her slowly and gently from her spot in her seat into his side, rubbing comforting circles into her shoulder, leaning his head on hers.

“I’m sorry,” Kris told her after feeling the small drops of water on his shoulder and her sniffling nose. “I’m really sorry.”

“‘S not your fault, Bubs.” TK said blinking as more silent tears flooded down her face, tracing her cheeks like rain on a window.

Her lips quivered as she bit down on the inside of her mouth, holding in a choked sob.

“This is real,” She sobbed, turning her head further into his green shirt, leaving a large wet mark as he unbuckled himself, adjusting so he was hugging her tightly, his soundless crying contrasting her loud sobs.

“Tess, listen to my breathing, please.” Kris told her as he noticed her hyperventilating breaths get faster and faster. “In and out slowly,”

She choked on air as she breathed in slowly through her nose, that was clogged from her sobbing prior.

Her body was convulsing as she tried to calm down from her hiccuping sobs and racing mind. Eventually, she came down and was breathing normally again, but it was soon discovered that it was due to her tired, sleeping body that was slumped on Kris as they parked the car in the parking deck under their apartment.

“Should I even get the wheelchair or are you just going to carry her?” Anthony asked his husband from the front seat after parking and unlocking the car.

“Just get her bags, please, I’ll take the elevator up with her and put her in bed.” Kris told him, brushing TK’s brown hair from her face, looking down at her freckled cheeks, only seeing the small four year old that would fall asleep on him after movie night on Saturdays.

“It’s gonna be alright, Kris,” Anthony told him, turning in the driver's seat to face the other two. “I can call my aunt Rachel and see if she can lend us a little if we need it, she already said that she would do anything to help.”

“I don’t want to take other people’s money,” Kris told him, still looking down at her.

“What other choice do we have at this point, Kris?” Anthony asked quietly as his eyebrows raised up, showing the sorrow and compassion he held for his daughter, even if she wasn’t really his daughter. “I can try to find another job, but I’m already at the coffee house six days a week, so I’m not sure anyone will want to hire me.”

“No, don’t stress yourself, I could ask for a raise at work, I’ve been working there for 8 years and I’m still getting paid like a first year.”

“Kris,” Anthony complained, “Let’s just talk about it later, alright, because I bet that, even if she is actually asleep, she can hear everything we’re saying.”

The men smirked at the claim, which was more than likely true, but they got going quickly after.

Anthony aided Kris in getting TK out of the car and back in his arms while he got in the elevator, Anthony getting the bags and whatnot, getting in the other elevator after they were gone.

TK was actually asleep, and didn't hear a word that the men had said, and it was obvious she was tired and sleeping when she moved her head to lean on Kris’ chest while he held her bridal style, admiring his baby girl on the way to their apartment.

It’s such a shame that parents are supposed to have a kid then automatically know how to raise them and find good jobs to support them and treat them the same when they’re obviously different and how they shouldn’t hide things from their kids but simultaneously have to hide everything behind the big red curtain of reality.

But they would get through it because they were the Kennedys. They never quit when things were hard and never let life get them down when beautiful things could still be seen in every direction, you just needed to look a little harder.

It’s been a week at home for TK. She’s been bored out of her mind yet somehow equally more stressed than ever trying to catch up with her school work, something Peter constantly came to her aid for when she was dying trying to understand Calculus.

He was one of the only things keeping her sane these days. She would stay up for no good reason stressing about things she can’t control and when Peter would be doing his patrol, he would make sure to check through her window a few times each night to make sure she wasn’t awake.

TK began getting closer to Peter, not that she wasn’t before, but she felt like he was just more present now because she was injured, and though she hated the attention she got because of her injury, she liked Peter, a lot, and was happy to have his company, even if it was out of pity.

The hardest thing for TK so far was balance when sitting down. Due to having her leg amputated, they had to take part of her hip as well, so she lost balance when sitting, but it also meant she got like three pillows to cuddle with in her room or on the couch.

Therapy was going ok, she had only had to go Friday because she wasn’t healed from the surgery yet, but it was more of a here-is-what-is-gonna-happen meeting than actual therapy, but the lady was nice and made her feel comfortable, so that was good.

TK wasn’t allowed to go to school for at least another two weeks, when she was healed completely, but she was getting antsy at home all the time, so she’s been going to her soccer practices as more of a bench-warmer, but Coach Cox promised that, since she was the MVP last year and most definitely would have made the team this season, that she could be his assistant coach when she came, which made her heart swell with joy.

Though, after going to a practice, all she got the next day were texts from people at her school who she didn’t even know asking if she was ok, and assumed that the girls on the team had spread the word pretty damn fast.

She just responded to the texts with false politeness, then ranted to her best friends about the annoying kids who didn’t give two craps about how she was, just wanted to be seen being sympathetic and get brownie points.

After three long, long, long, long months, it was summer, and time for TK to finally be fitted for a permanent prosthetic, since the one she had been practicing with wasn’t permanent and she only got to practice with it at therapy.

As the months went on, TK finally got a prosthetic, got back to school, and got a confession of love.

Peter and TK, who had been voted “Most Likely to be High School Sweethearts” since freshman year, were finally dating after an eventful day that resulted in Peter informing TK that he and Mr. Stark had been working on a prosthetic for her, one that would be similar to Bucky Barnes, yet without, as he put it, “Serial-Killer Features.”

TK got the prosthetic exactly eight months after her amputation, which meant that they had to celebrate with cake.

Some Stark technology created a feature similar to the invisible feature on the Quinjets, which made the artificial limb look skin colored to match TK’s body, but it wasn’t exactly modeled to look exactly limb-like. It wasn’t weird or anything, just that you could see the metal plates on it.

But he promised to try and improve that, but TK didn’t mind it, said it gave her an edge; also the fact that Flash didn’t mess with Peter as much after she threatened to kick him with it, not that it had any better strength than a normal limb would, but Flash didn’t know that.

Months continued going, TK got to join her soccer team again under the strict promise that she didn’t get any modifications to her leg that would give her a major advantage, since she didn’t really qualify for any “special needs” or “disabeld” teams, given the technology was so advanced.

Once again, it was that time of year, the beginning of their senior year.

TK, Peter, Michelle, and Ned took their first day in stride, all happy, not a single problem beyond homework in any of their minds.

TK continued to stress about collages, but she also knew that she was developing a knack for technology as she had to constantly do assessments on her leg to keep it running properly, so if she didn’t get a full ride in soccer, she knew that she could get an academic scholarship for her excelling grades in engineering. Kris and Anthony were doing better financially, since they didn’t have to pay for the prosthetic or any therapy since Tony (motherfucking) Stark was volunteering to do it all for free, stating that the only payment he needed was using TK as a guinea pig in the lab and getting a free ticket to each of her games.

Peter was adapting to having a girlfriend for the first time in his life, he’d liked TK for so long it felt as though nothing had changed from the transition from friendship to relationship other than the makeout sessions they had when they were alone. Spiderman was being put on the back burner as Peter focused on his senior year, remembering his friends and these truly memorable moments instead of talking to the churro lady, who he was pretty sure was Ned’s grandma.

Michelle was continuing to be a weird little black hole of information, but they loved her. TK even got her to wear a pink dress to their junior prom, which made the boys snort punch out of their noses, which is a moment nobody needed to record because you can’t forget their eyes at the burning sensation of spiked punch going through their noses.

Ned was already being offered scholarships to colleges because, though none of them knew this, he had a 4.9 GPA, and was like some sort of genius who was also one of the most clueless people you could ever meet.

The only thing taken from their junior year was that even when you’re sinking in the quicksand, if you have the right people around you, they’ll sink with you trying to pull you out of the depths you’d fallen into, and that's all anyone would ever need:

Someone to save you when you feel like you’re sinking.

#peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home

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tribridkissed · 5 years ago

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Everything Afflicting Lil’ Ol’ Me…

Sleep Paralysis:

Starting off with the basics here because this has been what sort of started it all. When I was little, I was super into the whole idea of spirits. I honestly still am for different reasons, but it started when I was young and having sleep problems. The doctors still don’t know why it started, but I’ve always thought I sensed ‘presences’ so I told ghost stories…because I saw ‘ghosts’ in my sleep, some of which were terrifying and would sit on my chest and I’d still feel that feeling when I woke up, so duh it was real.

When I was a teenager, I started getting these hallucinations far more vividly and the doctors started to take it a lot more seriously, especially when I was getting depressed and suicidal on top of it all. Turned out I had ‘Old Hag’s Syndrome’, or ‘Sleep Paralysis’, and there was now a logical explanation for it. Basically my brain wakes up sometimes before my body does, and I’m paralyzed but I can still see the hallucinations. Feeling pinned down and violated is honestly the worst, and it fucks me up for the rest of the day mentally when it happens. It is why I’m against lucid dreaming, and why I vehemently believe in demons and evil spirits even if doctor’s wanna just call it a hallucination induced by stress. Either way, I have insomnia sometimes too and my sleep is all over the place and that never helps one’s body.

Hormone Imbalances

My hormones have probably been all over the place my whole puberty experience? Like, my periods started out being heavy, irregular and painful. I know that’s mostly normal--we women handle cramps like a boss, okay?--but I would have to stay home from school once or twice in a row every time I got my period, because I was curled up in a ball hurling: much like I do now. Going on birth control helped for a while and then started to make it worse, so we took me off of the birth control and my period started to even out and I stopped getting so sick, unless I ovulated from both sides and not just one, which they found out was also happening. Yay for the possibility of twins naturally, but yikes to the extra hormone surges.

Paraxysmol AFib:

I went through a whole stint of my early 20′s having palpitations in my chest. I just attributed it to my anxiety, and to stress because I had just finished a whole High School career of only honor’s classes, and I had switched from Pre-Med to Early Childhood Development, and so even when the doctors from an arrhythmia, I just sort of dismissed it. I didn't have the time, I was working twelve hours days as a nanny, I was doing college, and I didn't have time...and then I had an AFib attack after exercising and ended up having chest pain.

That pain lasted a month and a half without going away or getting any better, I had a bunch of doctors tell me I was being a hypochondriac, and then I got put on a heart monitor. The heart monitor caught not one but two episodes in the span of three weeks, and it was only then that they took me seriously. So even though I was ‘too young’ and ‘healthy’, I ended up becoming a heart patient at the ripe old age of 25, and it has been part of my life ever since. I take medicine daily to keep my heart rate down, because it beats too fast on its own, and I had to cut down on coffee, which...I was a caffeine addict so that was rough, lol. I’ve had to change dosages, which stresses my body out for a week each time that happens, and it has just been who I am now. I have heart patient jewelry and everything, just in case of emergencies.

Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome

So this all brings me to the next big thing: cyclic vomiting syndrome. I have been sick for 6 months now, nauseous basically every day, vomiting stints every once in a while that land me in urgent care to get IV fluids and meds because nothing will stay in my stomach, it all comes up. This started back in August, now known actual cause, and it has been my main affliction these days. I am on antacid medications, my heart medicine still, and anti nausea I have to take every single day. My body is exhausted, and that’s not even the half of it.

The doctors aren’t even fully sure this is what is going on with me, this is just how they are treating me because they can’t find anything. I have had an MRI, CT scans, ultrasounds, blood tests of all sorts (food allergies, diabetes, etc.), and everything says I am healthy. I have had a tumor removed from my esophagus when they did the endoscopy in the beginning, and I had a history of cysts (I’ve had one in my head, in my arm pits, and now one in my right nasal cavity), and I have a second and third tumor growing in my right arm. They aren’t convinced any of this is related, they just know that my period problem from high school is happening again, so they’re convinced it is hormone induced cyclic vomiting syndrome...which has no for sure cause or cure, so, that has been nice, and has triggered my depression, but I’ve been dealing with my depression my entire life.

Depression/Abuse

Since I was a kid, I’ve had a messed up home life. My uncle did some truly horrible things before he ended up eventually in jail for four life sentences, and short story on that because I simply don’t talk about it, is he used to tape my sister and I shut in boxes, and threaten us with his pet snake. He even through a knife at my cousin once, and would put my sister and up on the top shelf of the closet and leave us there.

On top of that, my Dad was never around much, and he left for good when I was 7, the same year that my grandmother died from the chemo for her ovarian cancer. He is a whole other story in itself, but he only added to my abandonment issues when I was 21 and he showed back up ONLY to talk my sister and I out of making him pay off the back child support he owed (it was a whole thing), and having the audacity to say he stayed away because he loved us...but raised our half siblings, so...just. I don’t like talking about him either.

Then I had a mother who was constantly verbally abusing my sister and I--she still does--and calling us fat even when we were skinny. Telling us we wasted our potential, telling us we’re useless, etc., and only recently getting herself the help she needs for her own emotional issues because she too was abused. Our family is filled with abusers, and she’s much better now that we’ve all addressed we have some problems, but dealing with that on top of all the other things that I deal with now, has been rough.

I feel broken. My mother tells me not to say that, but all of my health issues, and my failed past relationships with boys that have thus kept me single the last three years, make me feel that way. I’m a demisexual person who had two boyfriends cheat because they couldn’t wait for me to be ready for sex, and one basically admit after a little while that he just wanted sex and was “putting up with my feelings until then”, and I dunno, I delved farther into writing and honestly, it has been my only constant.

I’ve been writing stories since I was 6, and this is a hobby, yes, but it is also an escape when I’m not working on my stuff to get published (I’ve actually been a published author since 2011). I’m editing my second book right now and it gets priority sometimes when I’m in a funk, but I have been so sick lately because of my stomach, and just so tired and stressed with work really only keeping me on because they can’t fire me when I have medical reasons and doctor’s notes, and I just thought you guys should know.

I try to be on because writing helps me not think about all of my issues, but sometimes I’m so tired, or so sick, that I just can’t do replies. Plus, my arm with the tumors has been hurting more and more lately, and I may have to get them removed, which will mean another two weeks of a sling and pain meds, and crying myself to sleep because recovery from arm surgery hurts.

So if I’m ever slow, something is up. I love being around to write--it’s my safe space--but I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I really do love and appreciate all of you, and I’m so grateful that you guys are so patient with me. <3

#out of mystic falls // ooc #damn writing it all out makes me feel a tad sad lmao #tw: sleep paralysis #tw: heart problems #tw: depression #tw: swearing #tw: vomiting mention #tw: period talk #tw: long post #that isn't even all of it because i didn't go into a whole bunch of detail #but that is the just of it guys

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thelastspeecher · 6 years ago

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So yesterday I wrote two Lute-oriented things in the Reverse Portal Stanley McGucket AU. Here’s the more angsty one of the two, without a title bc I couldn’t think of one. Enjoy the angst.

Lute wasn’t expecting a phone call from Ford.

He’d tucked in his nieces and nephew for the night, lying through his teeth when they asked for reassurance, offering empty platitudes that tasted bitter on his tongue.

We won’t be able to keep things a secret fer much longer. He closed the door to the room the children were sleeping and made his way to the kitchen for a much-needed drink. Every day that we don’t hear from Stan, they get more suspicious. He looked at the phone on the counter next to the liquor cabinet, willing it to ring. It stayed silent. Dammit, Stanley, please just let us know yer all right. And Fidds is all right. And Stanford. Lute shook his head and opened the liquor cabinet. The phone rang. He snatched the phone off the hook.

“Hello, McGucket residence, this is Lute speakin’,” he said into the receiver, speaking so fast his words tripped over themselves.

“Lute…I…” Lute recognized the voice.

“Stanford?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes. It’s me, I-” Ford was breathing heavily, like he had just done physical exercise.

Or finished cryin’ or screamin’. Lute’s heart sank.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I- it’s-”

“If ya can’t answer that, put Stan on the phone, okay? It’s been ages since we heard from y’all and we’re gettin’ worried.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Put Stan on the phone.”

“Why not?”

“He- he’s gone.”

“He’s gone?” Lute yelped. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s gone. He’s not- he’s not here.”

“Then where is he?”

“I- I don’t-”

“Stanford, what happened?” Lute hissed. Ford let out a sob. Lute’s chest tightened.

I’ve never heard him cry before.

“It’s a long story,” Ford said, seemingly gathering himself enough to speak. “I can’t tell it over the phone.”

“Well, yer goin’ to have to, ‘cause-”

“I need you to come here,” Ford interrupted. Lute’s eyes narrowed.

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere until I get more information.”

“I told you, I can’t tell you over the phone. I need to tell you in person. Please, just come here.”

“And I told you. I need more information ‘fore I go bail you out of whatever trouble you got yourself into.”

“Look,” Ford said desperately. “I know we aren’t close. And your decidedly mixed opinion of me is going to get much worse when I tell you what I’ve done and what happened to Stan. But don’t think of it as coming for me. Think of it as coming for your sister. Fiddleford is still- I don’t know where he is. Stan is- is gone. Angie’s all alone in Gravity Falls. She deserves to see a friendly face when she wakes up.”

“…Fine,” Lute whispered. “I’ll do it fer Angie. But the second I get there, you best tell me what happened to Stan, or so help me-”

“Yes, I’ll- I’ll explain everything.”

“Good. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Lute hung up. He stared at the phone for a moment before someone spoke behind him.

“Lute, I heard ya shout, is somethin’ wrong?” Lute spun around. His parents stood in the kitchen, looking concerned. Lute ran a hand through his hair.

“I- I ain’t quite sure. That was Stanford. He wanted me to come to Gravity Falls.”

“Stan got through to him, then?” Pa McGucket asked.

“I don’t rightly know. He didn’t say.”

“You asked about Stan, right?” Ma McGucket said. Lute nodded. “And?”

“He wouldn’t elaborate. But I think somethin’ bad happened. Somethin’ real bad.” Ma and Pa McGucket exchanged a worried look.

“Go pack yourself a bag,” Ma McGucket said softly. “We’ll find ya a plane ticket so’s ya can get there faster.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Lute kissed his mother on the cheek. “When I leave, don’t tell the kidlets where I am. I don’t want to raise their hopes.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of ‘em,” Pa McGucket said. “Find out what’s goin’ on.” Lute nodded firmly.

“I’ll do that.”

-----

“I don’t understand anything that’s goin’ on,” Lute croaked, staring at the machine in Ford’s basement. He rubbed his eyes. “What- how-”

“It’s an interdimensional portal,” Ford said. When Lute had arrived less than an hour ago, he’d found the front door unlocked and Ford passed out on the stairs, visibly disheveled. But immediately after waking up, Ford had insisted on taking Lute to the basement, and Lute had reluctantly followed.

Not my brightest moment.

“An interdimensional portal,” Lute repeated. Ford nodded. His eyes were bloodshot, his face unshaven. It was difficult to take anything Ford said at face value at the moment. “And Stan went through it.”

“Yes.”

“So he’s in a dif’rent dimension.”

“Yes.”

“And Fiddleford went partially through it, and that’s why he ran off?”

“Yes.”

“Good Lord.” Lute groaned. “I don’t know how much of this I can believe, Stanford.”

“When we find Fiddleford, he’ll verify what I’m saying,” Ford said. Lute sighed.

“Okay, fine. If he backs ya up, I’ll believe ya. But he’s missing.”

“…Yes. He is. We need to find him.” Ford looked down at the ground. “I don’t want anyone else to suffer for what I’ve done.”

“Findin’ him is goin’ to be easier said than done.”

“I know.” Ford looked Lute in the eyes. “But I need to fix things.”

“I agree.” Lute glanced at the machine again. “And since there aren’t exactly a lot of people ‘round to help ya with that, I’ll do it.”

-----

Lute paced anxiously at the foot of Angie’s hospital bed. Fiddleford was dozing fitfully in the chair by her bed.

Got to figure out what we’ll be tellin’ the fam’ly. Lute chewed on his lip. Got to find a way to phrase it without it soundin’ like Stan left on purpose. One of the few things Lute and Ford had been able to agree upon was that the rest of the McGucket family wouldn’t be told the truth of where Stan had gone, deciding that it wouldn’t be right to drag them into the weirdness of Gravity Falls. ‘Course, I got dragged into it… There was a small groan from the hospital bed. Lute’s head whipped around. Angie was moving. His mouth went dry.

“Angie?” he whispered. Angie opened her eyes. Lute raced to the door of the hospital room and flung it open. “Could I get a doctor or nurse in here?” he called. “My sister’s wakin’ up!” He turned around to face Angie. She was staring up at the ceiling blankly. Lute shook Fiddleford’s shoulder. Fiddleford awoke with a snort.

“What?” Fiddleford asked irritably. Lute nodded at the hospital bed.

“She’s up.”

“She’s- oh goodness!” Fiddleford jumped up from his chair and rushed to Angie’s side. He took a hold of her hand. “Banjey?”

“…Fidds?” Angie asked quietly. “Where- what-”

“Try to stay calm,” Fiddleford said soothingly. “Yer in the hospital.”

“Why?”

“There was an accident.”

“Accident?”

“Yes.” Fiddleford squeezed Angie’s hand. “But don’t worry, yer daughters are safe. And Lute’s here.”

“Lute?” Angie asked, confused. Lute joined Fiddleford at their sister’s bedside. “What are ya doin’ here?”

“Stanford called me ‘n asked me to come,” Lute explained. Angie’s brow furrowed.

“Why would he ask ya to do that?”

“…It’s complicated.”

“Where’s Stan?”

“He’s…” Lute trailed off, uncertain of what to say.

“He’s not here right now, but don’t worry,” Fiddleford interjected. Angie frowned at him.

“That’s the second time you’ve told me not to worry. What’s goin’ on?”

“We’ll explain later, just try to stay calm right now. Yer in a delicate state, and we’d hate fer ya to lose the baby after all you’ve been through.” Angie’s eyes widened.

“The- what baby?”

“Yer pregnant.”

“I’m-”

“The doctors found out when you were brought in after yer fall,” Lute said. Tears welled in Angie’s eyes. “Is- are ya upset?”

“No, I’m- we wanted another kid. I’m happy. I’m assumin’ Stan knows?”

“Yes. He does.”

“Good.” Angie swallowed. “And- and Lute, I didn’t fall. I was pushed.”

“Pushed? Whattaya-” A doctor entered the room.

“Excuse me, I need to take her vitals,” the doctor said, pushing Fiddleford and Lute to the side.

“But-”

“We can talk about it later,” Angie said quietly. “When Stan’s around.” A tight feeling formed in Lute’s chest.

“Right,” he said quietly. “When Stan’s around.”

-----

Crying came over the baby monitor. Lute sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes.

Prob’ly Emmett. He’s the fussiest one. He got up with a small groan. The way he screams all the time, ya wouldn’t know he has bad lungs. He exited the guest room that was rapidly becoming his bedroom and made his way to the nursery. Footsteps sounded behind him.

“I can get him,” Angie’s voice said. Lute turned. Angie stood in the hallway, her hair in disarray and skin pale as a sheet. She rubbed her eyes. “He’s my son, after all.”

“You need yer sleep,” Lute said gently. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Go back to bed. I’m surprised ya managed to wake up as it is. The nursery’s pretty far from yer room. How did ya hear?” Angie looked away. Lute sighed. “Hand it over.”

“…No.”

“Angie, I know you grabbed another monitor. Give it to me.”

“No!” Angie shook Lute’s hand from her shoulder.

“Banjolina Quinn McGucket, you need yer sleep. You can’t get the sleep ya need if ya wake up in the middle of the night all the time.”

“They’re my sons,” Angie snapped. “What kind of- what kind of-” Her eyes welled with tears. “What kind of mother am I if- if I can’t even take care of ‘em when- when they’re cryin’?”

“Banjey…”

“I haven’t been able to do anything lately,” she sobbed. “I can’t help bring Stan back. I can’t- I can’t do my research. I can’t take care of my children. I’m- I’m useless.”

“Yer not useless,” Lute said firmly. Angie shook her head. “You aren’t.”

“All right. If I’m not useless, what can I do?” Angie asked. Tears still stood in her eyes, but the stubbornness she’d had her whole life shone through in her voice. “What can I do, Lute? Tell me.”

“Get better,” Lute replied. Angie straightened her back and brushed past Lute into the nursery. “Angie, don’t-”

“C’mere, honey,” Angie said quietly, taking Emmett from his crib. His crying died down. “You just wanted yer ma, huh? Don’t worry, I’m here. Yer ma is here.” Emmett began to cough loudly. “What is it, baby?” Emmett’s coughing grew more ragged. “Emmett-”

“He’s having an asthma attack, Banjey,” Lute said. Angie stared at him. “Please, give him to me, I’ll give him his medicine.”

“I- I can give him his medicine.”

“You’ve never given him his medicine ‘fore, ya don’t know how. Give him to me ‘fore he gets worse.”

“But-”

“There ain’t time fer this,” Lute said roughly. He grabbed the nebulizer off the shelf baby supplies were kept in and plugged it in. “He’ll get hurt if he don’t get his medicine.”

“…Okay.” Angie handed Emmett over. She slumped against Emory’s crib, watching silently as Lute placed the nebulizer’s mask over Emmett’s face. Emmett’s breathing steadied. Lute removed the mask.

“He’s goin’ to be fine.” Lute looked up at Angie. Tears streamed down her face. “Here, take yer lil boy.”

“Why? It’s better if I don’t.”

“He needs his ma.”

“He clearly doesn’t.” Angie wiped the tears off her cheeks. “I can’t protect him.”

“All we have to do is show ya how to use the nebulizer. It’s easy.”

“He’s three months old. I should already know how to use it.”

“You’ve been busy gettin’ better.”

“But three months-”

“You haven’t been gettin’ enough sleep to properly recuperate,” Lute pointed out. Angie was silent. “Once ya start sleepin’, you’ll bounce back. And you can take on more responsibilities, includin’ Emmett’s medicine.”

“…Maybe.” Angie looked into Emory’s crib. She reached into the crib to stroke Emory’s cheek. “Emory looks so much like Stan.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He’s always wanted a son.”

“They’re good kids.”

“Yeah.” Angie bit her lip. “We can’t teach ‘em how to throw footballs. Stan ‘ll be sad if he doesn’t get the chance.”

“I don’t think we know anyone who can throw a football anyways,” Lute said. Angie managed a weak smile.

“Good point.”

“Go back to bed. I’ll handle things from here.”

“Okay.” Angie walked over to Lute, kissed Emmett on the forehead, and then exited the nursery. Lute looked at his nephew, surprised.

“She didn’t try to fight it,” he remarked. Emmett yawned widely. “Good point, you need sleep, too.” Lute carefully put Emmett in his crib, then went back to the shelf to put away the nebulizer. He paused.

Is this… He picked up a baby monitor that hadn’t been there before. This must be the one Angie hid in her room.

“Thank the Lord,” he whispered. “She can fin’ly sleep.” Crying emanated from Emory’s crib. Upset by his twin’s crying, Emmett also began to fuss. Lute rubbed his forehead.

Well, at least one of us ‘ll get some sleep.

#I've been meaning to write some things with these particular scenes in this AU #and might as well use Lute for them bc I don't write enough from that boy's perspective #Reverse Portal Stanley McGucket AU #Lute McGucket #Angie McGucket #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Stangie Family #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

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croissantbae · 6 years ago

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Letter to Naya re Her Entry Into This World

You were born on June 24, 2019; four days past your due date but right on time from my perspective. You came on a Monday and gave me and your dad one last weekend to relish (though I think the most exciting thing we did was watch a movie). I don’t know if I should tell you this but before you were born, I wanted you to stay inside for as long as possible. You gave me no discomfort from the womb. In fact, my belly was small enough that even nurses said I looked 6 months pregnant instead of the 9 that I really was. You gave me no heartburn, no constipation, no major aches and no stretch marks. My fingers got swollen and a nice thick double chin grew in but I don't know if I can really blame those things on you - I gained 40 pounds through my own hard work. Other than the nightly hiccups and kicks in my gut, we (your dad and I) were all comfortable with your then-present living arrangement.

On June 23, I started feeling cramps but they went away after a few hours. I never even woke your dad up. I just endured the painful ones from bed and then got up to eat a mango. That seemed to appease you because the contractions died down after that and I went back to sleep at around 3 am. The day passed by without any issues but at 11 pm the contractions came back. They got stronger and stronger so I woke your dad up around midnight. I’d scared him a few times before as a joke so I don’t know if he realized it was actually go time but I showed him the contractions calculator and then he freaked out. He started packing things up getting ready to go but I knew this process could take a while so I got my work affairs in order and put my out of office message up. Your dad was not pleased with me. You’ll learn this soon enough about your dad but when he’s in a mood there is no reasoning with him. He gets into a zone and you just have to let him ride it out. So I put my things away and got ready to go to the hospital as well. I told him we were leaving too early but away we went, at his insistence.

We got to the hospital at 2 am and when the doctor checked my cervix, I was 3 centimeters dilated and 80% effaced. This will mean nothing to you until you have a child of your own but the hospital’s policy is to admit women only once they are 4.5 centimeters. I was given 3 options: (1) walk around the hospital floor for a few hours and check if I’ve progressed afterwards, (2) go home and come back if my contractions get closer together or (3) get pain medication and go home. I opted for number one so your dad and I walked around the fourth floor of the Kaiser hospital on Sunset from around 2 am to 4 am. I’m not entirely sure how to describe contractions. I want to say it’s like a stabbing pain but that’s not quite right because it’s all over your stomach. I wish I could describe it better but it appears I’ve already forgotten the precise sensation. It overtakes you at first but somehow I was able to endure it and after a while they felt tolerable. To speed up the process we did squats and talked about how strange this whole thing was; that your dad and I were about to enter into parenthood. I’m thankful we were there at such an odd time, without people everywhere, because I was farting all over the place and just could not hold it in. They were both noisy and smelly. Right before going back in to see how far dilated I was, I also pooped. Sitting on the toilet and pushing poop out while also feeling contractions was quite a journey. It felt impossible for a second but I conquered it. I was both glad that I was getting cleaned out and embarrassed that the doctor would be checking me immediately after a dump. Such is the business of giving birth: it’s messy. Trying to thoroughly clean myself, again, while feeling contractions, was another challenge. There’s a theme here.

Afterwards we went back in and I was exactly 4.5 cm dilated (though a part of me suspects that the doctor just had sympathy on us and admitted us out of pity). Once we were officially admitted, they asked me if I wanted to get the epidural then but I said I’d wait and walk around a bit more to keep the process going. We started walking again and I immediately regretted my decision. Once offered pain relief, each contraction felt unnecessary so the roaring, rolling pain became intolerable. Instead of walking for an hour like I had hoped, we walked for 30 minutes and called it quits. It was around 5:20 am and your dad and I were both exhausted. We went back and requested the epidural and ice water. The doctor who administered the epidural was an Indian woman with a British accent and she came in like a true veteran. She was there for business - no pleasantries were exchanged and it was perfect. She moved swiftly and was out within 5 minutes flat. She was there for such a short period of time but she left a big impression on me. I wish i caught her name so that I could request her again for the next time (assuming you’re going to have a sibling). The epidural felt like a drink of cold water for my entire body. Once the epidural numbed the contractions, your dad and I slept for the majority of the day. Your grandma came and went, leaving us to sleep and to run a few errands for herself, particularly since I stopped progressing and I had to be administered pitocin to encourage the contractions to keep going. I don’t know if it was because of all the medication but even though I hadn’t eaten in almost twenty four hours I had no appetite. I was cruising, letting my body absorb the cold epidural that was administered hourly. Throughout the day a sweet and soothing white nurse was assisting us, bringing us ice water and just being a calm angelic presence in the midst of everything. She left us alone for the majority of the day to just catch up on rest.

Finally, and suddenly, at 4:30 pm, the doctor confirmed that I was 10 centimeters dilated and the time to push had come. He noted that pushing would commence at 5 pm. While we waited to push, a Korean nurse with a thick accent and blunt demeanor took over. She received several personal calls and would leave the room to talk to the caller in Korean. There was one occasion where her and another nurse snapped at each other. Needless to say it seemed that it wasn’t just us that weren’t fans of her. I wasn’t sure what caused the switch but it looked like we were stuck with her and her alone. Unlike my assumptions about the process, instead of having a whole team of medical professionals in the room with us, only the Korean nurse was in the room with us, guiding us through the miraculous process of bringing life into this world; and her instructions to me were to “push.” Your grandma was on the right side of my body and your dad was on the left side trying to guide me in breathing exercises. Your grandma lifted up my right leg and your dad was trying to stay near my head so he wouldn't see my nether regions. That was the plan all along. As I began to push however, the nurse informed me that I wasn’t pushing correctly and that I needed to push better. Very helpful instructions. I knew what she meant though; all the pressure from my pushing was unfocused and diffused itself throughout my body. I was pushing with all of my might but it was useless if I couldn’t aim it appropriately. It was sort of like studying for a test but reading the wrong chapter. Grandma was already holding onto one of my legs but I asked her to put her palm against my foot so that I had something to push against. It helped immensely.

I asked Jason to do the same with my left leg. I could sense his hesitation but he did it; he really had no other option. Inevitably, he saw the gory mess I presumed my vagina had become. And, he cried. The nurse saw him and bluntly asked “why are you crying?!” He fumbled between tears, saying he hated to see me struggling and going through so much pain. Incredulous, the nurse then asked me “are you in pain?” I really wanted to tell her to shut up but instead I explained that while I couldn’t feel the contractions, I could feel pressure down there and I could feel waves of something. Once your dad and grandma applied pressure to the palms of my feet I was finally able to get into the hang of pushing and the nurse (whose name was Boedul) seemed pleased with my results. She told me I was doing a good job pushing. She asked if I wanted to see what was going on with a mirror. My mind was telling me no but my mouth said yes so she brought out a small mirror and I saw that which was formerly known as my vagina. As I pushed, hairy blackness appeared. Genuinely confused, I asked if that was you or me. It was you. I expected you to be bald so it was a complete shock to see so much thick black hair. At first I thought my pubes has gotten seriously out of control.

When I stopped pushing, the blackness disappeared. Even when I could see it, it was only a sliver of your head. Discouraged, I said in exasperation, “this is impossible!” But Boedul assured me again I was pushing well and she predicted that we would be pushing for another 20 minutes or so, 30 maximum. I couldn’t fathom how a whole head (I wasn’t even going to think about the body) could fit out of there that quickly. It genuinely seemed like an impossible task. Around this time, Boedul raised stirrups so that I could use it to push. I stared at her, incredulous that she was holding out on me. She must have sensed my anger because, unprompted, she explained that she didn’t raise them earlier because then it would be too tiring, which made no sense to me. After the whole process your dad and I had a moral dilemma as to whether we should call her out in the survey they send asking about our experience and anyone we interacted with in particular but in the end we decided to be cool and not say anything. Back to pushing, shortly after using the forceps, and making a lot of progress, a team of doctors and nurses came rushing in. Perhaps for the best they moved the mirror away so that the doctor could place herself in front of my vagina and guide the baby out. They said we’d be doing a few pushes together and I’d have to hold the push when they told me. We did maybe three of these guided pushes and all of a sudden your head was out. I couldn’t believe it; my job was done and I relaxed, ready to pack it up. But the doctor said I had to keep pushing to get your body out. I made one feeble push and the rest of you seemed to slip right out.

I don’t know if it was because of the medication or the adrenaline that was pumping in me but I didn’t cry or feel much of anything. I saw them take you to a station nearby to clean you up. I just observed everything, without fully feeling anything. I was neither happy nor sad. I just watched everything going on around me. I was surprised by how big you were. Given my belly size i thought you’d be small but at 21 inches you seemed like a full grown baby (not a newborn). They placed you on my chest and even then all I could do was observe the strange creature you were then wriggling on my chest. I won’t go into the details of what happened next (long story short, Eileen and your paternal grandmother and Jordan came to visit and your dad yelled at them for coming in during the golden hour - he was definitely hyped and still trying to process everything himself so he was a little jumpy and made Eileen cry; also your maternal grandma and Jason were hovering over you after they took you off my chest to get examined, but a particularly high level of hovering came from your maternal grandma I will say).

It wasn’t until about 24 hours later that I felt an overwhelming rush of emotions. Everyone was gone and your dad was sleeping on the pull out couch in the hospital room. You were laying in the plastic bin that hospitals use as a bassinet, next to my bed. Even though the room was dark, I stared at you, thinking about how perfect and wonderful you were and how thankful I was to God and the universe for allowing me to birth a healthy baby. I teared up as the feelings of love and gratitude filled me.

You’re almost a month old now and I love you so much more now than I did then. I even love it when you cry intensely and inconsolably; everything you do is so precious. Sometimes I just want to stare at you crying (but don’t worry I don’t do it… for too long). You make a duck face and stretch out when you wake up and after you eat. You grunt and cry for nipple, sometimes even when it’s already in your mouth. You’re getting more alert but also startled more. I know there will be (many) days where you’ll aggravate me (like last night when you wouldn’t sleep in your bassinet no matter how many times you fell asleep on my nipple) and I just won’t like you but for now I love you and everything you do, everything you don’t do and every sound that comes out of you.

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jademarine · 6 years ago

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Unexpected life Part 2

Just between you and me, the level is way too hard in the absynth.

* *

I reached my office in a bad mood. After this night spent watching the mad girl from the infirmary here I was, engaging with even worse : the lessons to the best of the best of my recruits. And, if I had the choice, I’d run back to comfort the hysterical freak instead of seeing this bunch of hypocrites in my laboratory. This gifted class of five fuckers was the most pathetic thing I had ever come to see. Between them, nothing seemed prohibited to win a tiny bit of affection in my heart. Which was frankly useless as I hated them all from the bottom of my guts. I had already told Miiko I’d pick anybody in the bottom of the absynth gard before to see one of them as my successor, but she had insisted. For the appearances at least, she had told. Well, since it was only for the appearances, I had decided to have a bit of fun.

Today, I declared as I entered my lab, I put in the lead the first one to bring me something to eat.

Immediately, the five head-slaps threw themselves in the stairs in a almost-suicidal rush, and I sighed slightly to see them making it out alive. Less than one minute after they were back with, for most of them, their honey ration. Kayvin only, maybe because he had already used his, brought me a cup of coffee.

- Kayvin, one point for originality, I said while taking a first sip of the hot liquid. Half a point for everybody else.

And, as I loved to see the deception on their faces, I finally decided to take back half a point to all of them. On this day, I kept them busy with a project requiring several years of intense study, I choose to digest and to catch up with my sleep at the same time. Vera, the most shameless suck-up, was the one to wake me up by letting a test piece down.

- Vera, rear of the field, I groaned, batting my eyes. It’s over for today, you’re way too stupid for me to stand you any longer.

In an instant, it was another race to scurry away the fastest possible, and five students (with one on the verge of crying) bumped into Ewelein when she tried to enter the lab.

- Well well well. Looks like they have a hard time.

I laughed, bringing back their exercises, and I took a look at them to check if the level was suitable. None of them would deserve more than one or two points, and my grin stretched up.

It was perfect.

- Look at this, I said, holding up one of the sheets to my nurse. It’s not that hard.

She mumbled something when she read the first statement, and gave it back to me.

- I don’t see anything the unit law couldn’t solve.

- Excellent. You should think about joining my deepening lessons. I’d give you five points to encourage you.

- There’s no way in hell I’ll join, Ezarel.

Smiling, I let myself sink in my seat.

- If you’re not here for my precious lessons, you must be in need of a potion. Which one ?

She came to my desk and played a few moments with a bright-orange filled flask. When she smelled it, though, she put it back in place immediately.

- I wanted to see you about Laure, she started, but I was at a loss already.

- Who’re you talking about ?

- Laure, the witch you’ve looked after yesterday.

- Oh. How is doing PTSD ?

Even if she frowned, Ewelein said nothing. She didn’t mind me mocking everybody, but her patients was the holy limit I shouldn’t cross, which of course reinforce my desire to trample it vehemently.

- Actually, she’s asking for you. I don’t know what you told her but it was effective. She refuses to talk to anybody but you.

I had to really work myself not to burst in laughter at her face. I had been obnoxious, and if that poor girl wanted to see me so bad, her mental health was even worse than what I expected.

- As you can see, I raised my arms to embrace the empty room, I’m really busy. My students need my training, you know.

- I’m just asking for a little time, Ewelein sighed. Just to make her eat and you’ll be free.

- You’re telling me she’s on a hunger strike ?

I complained and grunted, but finally ended up by following my employee. I was determined to shorten this damn encounter with the crazy patient and to enjoy my calm afternoon with my books. At least, they ad something clever to say, compared to most of the people around me.

At the infirmary, I discovered the young patient still firmly tied to her bed, this time in a sitting position. Even if her eyes still gave me this feeling of contained hysterical, at least she seemed slightly calmer than the day before. When she saw me, a light in her gaze made her look almost normal.

- You wanted to see me ? I asked, sitting on the same chair I used last time.

- Yes, I’m happy to see you doctor.

- Don’t call me like that.

- Like what, then ?

Praying to finish this quickly, I raised my shoulders.

- Ezarel.

- Oh, okay. My... my name’s Laure.

There was something ridiculous in this weak statement. That girl was handcuffed to the bed, but she was introducing herself like anybody. As I always been found of these crazy people, I smiled.

- Well, Laure, why did you want to see me ?

Her face suddenly lost her gladness and in a second she was sserious again.

- You talked to me yesterday. About... me.

- Yes indeed. Do you remember everything ?

She bit her lip and shook her head like a little girl. Somebody must have brushed her hair because they looked almost neat.

- I do, I remember. You told me things... did you mean it ?

- When I said I was going to silence you ?

- Oh yes, every word.

- No, no, she said really seriously. When you talked about my captors. And about me. Were you saying that just to calm me down ?

- No, of course not. You’ll get used to the idea. It’s the truth.

In her way to look at me, I could see she wanted to believe me, but she was still too much confused to trust me completely.

- Can I ask you questions ? She finally asked. To see if my memories are correct.

- I don’t know every details of this case.

- You’ll just answer what you know.

Eventually, I accepted. It was the fastest way to go back to my lab ridden of any troublemakers.

- Okay, she whispered slowly, as if she was going to do a surgical move. First thing, when have I been kidnapped ?

- One year ago.

Or at least this is how the story had been told to me. Everybody was talking about it, in the HQ, but I gave no credits to gossips.

- And has my family asked you to find me ?

- I can’t answer this one. Maybe we can find somebody on charge of your case...

This time, Laure’s face lost its sanity. She widened her eyes like a scared child.

- No ! No I don’t want anybody !

Worried, I sat back slowly, not to scare her any further. I had chosen alchemy to avoid people, and I here I was, playing the babysitter. There was a reason if I asked Ewelein to be in charge of the infirmary.

- Okay, I breathed. We’re not calling anybody. Keep on.

She seemed relieved, and leant back on her cushions.

- That’s better, she muttered. I don’t want to see them.

- You’re talking about...

- My family.

- Why don’t you want to see them ?

She looked hesitant, and I raised my eyebrows softly to indulge her to answer. She fell for it instantly, patients were always fragile enough to believe the first nice gesture. It was pretty sad, but I wasn’t really one to think about it in the first place.

- I think they sold me, but I’m not sure if it’s a false memory or not.

- Is there something else you doubt ?

I saw her little body tensing, and I jumped back when she suddenly pulled on her arm so strongly I thought she was going to break it. Exactly as yesterday, she started crying without warning, and I immediately noticed the blood tainting her inner lips. I got it in a second, and I was on my feet as quickly.

- Ewelein ! I yelled. Tranquilizers, now ! She’s bitting her lips !

#ezarel #eldarya #original female character #ezarel eldarya #writting #big trouble coming

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kayoiwritingarchivies · 6 years ago

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Here’s a wip, because I can’t figure out how to finish this

A Sea Emperor Leviathan dies 1700 meters under the sea, the last of its strength used to see off her children, and tell the survivor, one last message.

“What is a wave without an ocean? A beginning without an end? They are different, but they go together. Now you go among the stars, and I fall among the sand. We are different. But we go…together.”

She sleeps in her prison, letting her final breath go free.

The Sea Emperor Leviathan wakes as a human boy and takes their first breath.

They are a Sea Emperor Leviathan, a being that is over 2600 years old. But they are also Izuku Midoriya, a quirkless boy who has nothing but powerless fists and a will to become a hero.

Izuku has always feels a pull towards the water.

He’ll stand near the beach, riverbanks, ponds and just stare into the murky depths, remembering something about a planet covered in water, filled with creatures that lived in a perfect ecosystem. And yet, when he stands near the ocean, there is a sadness that is unwilling to leave, an ancient pain that settles into his young bones.

(But his mind is old. His mind is old, and wise, and knows what it is like to be alone.)

Katsuki is curious about Izuku.

He acts like he’s older, but not in a bad way. He’ll put his hand out and help, smiling and saying things like “Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay, just keep on going forward.”

Izuku acts old, and once, Katsuki bumped into him by accident, and he feels the might of a thousand ocean waves and old, old, old powers stirring, telling him that he is alright and there is nothing to fear.

Katsuki remembers when he first showed his quirk to Izuku, explosions popping from his hands.

Izuku looked at the explosions, at the small pops and crackles of fire and heat and smoke and had said, quiet and slow “A powerful gift, but I must ask, are you going to use for something greater? Will you swim with the current, or fight against it as others did?”

Katsuki hadn’t given Izuku an answer yet because he doesn’t know how to.

When Izuku is 4, (but he is also 2600) he is told that he is quirkless, that becoming a hero would be a death sentence.

He did not cry. He did not shout. He did not ask if the doctors were wrong, or protest, or scream.

Instead, he smiled and whispered “I already knew. I am powerless, but that does not mean I am less.”

He spends more time at the beach, looking at the towering piles of rubbish and debris, and thinks “I can become a hero.”

The ocean calls him, microscopic organisms whispering encouragement and creatures as big as buildings crying out their praises.

So, he picks up a small, broken action figure of a hero long forgotten and begins to clean up the beach.

In middle school, they talk about the future. It’s mostly students saying how they’ll become heroes, and Katsuki laughs.

“Don’t group me and Deku with these losers! I’m going to be the best damn hero, better than you extras!”

(“Deku” is the nickname that Katsuki gave to Izuku. It means useless, but it’s not meant to be an insult. Just a nickname, and nothing more.)

The teacher smiles, ignoring the “and Deku” with a loud “Oh, you are trying for U.A, aren’t you?”

Katsuki boasts about how he’ll get in, and Izuku quietly listens, hearing his childhood friend boast and yell.

The teacher then goes, “Oh, Midoriya, you trying to get into U.A too?”

The class stops, and looks at Izuku, like he’s crazy, before they start laughing, and saying things like “Him? The quirkless loser? Become a hero!”

Izuku does not respond. The Sea Emperor Leviathan within him does not respond to the taunts and jeers.

Well, not in an expected way.

He sits up straighter and speaks. “I do not see what I want to do has any interest to you. My aspirations have nothing to do with you. If I dare to swim against an ocean tide that threatens to kill me, then can you really blame me?”

Everyone stops, and watches Katsuki closely, wondering what he’ll do.

Katsuki sighs, and says quietly “Deku, are you seriously only fucking 15? I’m having second doubts.”

Izuku laughs quietly and says “Well maybe the next time I walk the world, I will become an ocean current, carrying seeds to a new land. Or perhaps I’ll become a creature so small that it sees the gaps between the grains of sand.”

The class doesn’t press the matter further.

(Izuku is physically 15, but the mind and soul of a Sea Emperor lives in him. To them, everyone is a mere hatchling, while they are an aging tide.)

Izuku is attacked on the way home from school.

Katsuki and him would walk together normally, but some people wanted Katsuki to go with them to the arcade, and Izuku told him to go, saying it’s better to have more friends than one.

(The Sea Emperor Leviathan does not want anybody to be alone)

So, when Izuku is attacked by a monster made of slime and stench, Izuku only wonders what it will be like, to go to sleep and never wake up.

He is saved by All Might, and he’s grateful, and Izuku watches him leap away, feeling the pull of the ocean and the stillness accompanying the silence of a tunnel.

(They meet again, on a street, and All Might give him the tools to become a hero, and a message.)

When the entrance exams start, Izuku has not gained points. He doesn’t have a grasp on One for All yet, so he gets by on wit and years upon years of knowledge and power.

When the Zero Point Robot appears, he runs towards it, but only because a girl is trapped, about to be crushed.

Izuku runs, and leaps, and punches the robot, destroying it. When he falls back to the earth, all he can think about is the ocean and fish that are more eye ball than actual fish (They were called peepers.)

When he is slapped, and he’s floating, he feels the weightlessness of the ocean.

When the girl releases them, he’s grateful despite a broken arm and two broken legs.

When he enters the classroom, he is greeted by noise. It’s mostly Katsuki arguing with a boy with blue hair and glasses, but a few other are students making small talk as well.

Izuku manages to slide into a seat behind Katsuki, tapping him on the shoulder and saying “It’s a fine day today, isn’t it?”

Katsuki stops in his argument to turn around and look at Izuku, muttering “I guess.”

The blue haired boy notices him and praises him, about seeing the exam for more than it actually is, and how he is a true hero.

Izuku smiles, small and careful, and says “I merely did what I can do. It is good to have pride, but also humility. We should be aware and remember this.”

The boy, who had introduced himself as Iida Tenya, nods furiously, agreeing with what Izuku had to say.

When they have the quirk assessment test, Izuku scores above average in most areas, not particularly strong or fast.

When it’s time to throw the baseball, their teacher (Who happens to be Eraserhead), erases One for All, and they discuss about how Izuku can’t always expect someone to save him every time he uses his power.

Izuku thinks about underwater prisons, of eggs and undersea dragons and a disease-ridden survivor.

“I know.” He says finally, quiet and slow, “I know that there isn’t always someone to save me. Can I go throw the ball now sir?”

Eraserhead lets him, and he stares at the baseball in his hand, brings up his arm, and throws.

(It just falls short of beating Katsuki and is third in the baseball pitches. No one is expelled in the end, and everyone cheers.)

When it is battle trials, supervised by All Might, they are split into two teams. Villains and Heroes.

Izuku is with Uraraka on the Villain team, while Katsuki and Iida are both Heroes. Whilst planning, they decide to block both entryways, before Izuku begins to break open the water pipes, watching the water pool on the floor, the weapon floating above the water that hits their ankles.

Izuku feels a pull towards the water, and the water creates small waves around him and Uraraka, memories of capture and containment.

He lets the water stop when it reaches mid-calf, plugging the pipes. The weapon still floats behind them.

“Deku? Why did you flood the room?” Uraraka asks, confused at the water.

“Well…Iida’s engines are in his calves, right? So, if their plugged by water…” Izuku begins, kicking at the water.

“He can’t go fast, right?”

Izuku nods, and points to the door. “When they open the door, the water might drain out. I won’t let it though, so don’t worry.”

Uraraka cocks a head to the side and says “But you have a strength quirk.”

(The Sea Emperor is the guardian of the Ocean. The production of Enzyme 42 wasn’t the only thing it could do. Water could be controlled, but only just. This is not a quirk. This is a Sea Emperor Leviathan who asks the ocean for help.)

The exercise starts and Izuku stands his ground, feeling for the organisms that live within the water.

(This is not a quirk. This is a Sea Emperor Leviathan who calls for aid.)

When Katsuki kicks the door open, he opens it to calf high water and floating crates and barrels. Iida stops too, staring at the room full of water.

Iida’s leg engines clog up with water and he can no longer run. Katsuki’s hands are still clear of the water however, and he launches himself up, towards the floating weapon when a crate slams into his face. He falls back into the water, and he sits up, shaking droplets from his hair.

There are ripples in the water, and there are 3 minutes of defending left.

Katsuki and Iida are forced to wade through the water, making a slow attempt to getting to Izuku and Uraraka, both taking to launching items at them.

There is 10 seconds left.

Izuku is prepared to use his quirk.

(The water becomes choppy. The micro-organisms that live within the water are beginning to get restless.)

Then the buzzer sounds, All Might announces that the Villain team had won, and the water drains out, leaking out the door.

Izuku sits in the classroom, watching Aizawa talk about voting for a class president. He does not volunteer for Class President.

(He is not a leader. The Sea Emperor Leviathan is, but she will not do something that she does not need to do.)

Iida and Yaoyozoru are voted into the position, and Izuku sits there, smiling.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wip #boku no hero academia #subnautica #bnha #i'll never finish this so might as well #this is horrible

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slythergirlimagines · 7 years ago

Text

Because I Love You Part 3

Summary: The reader is kidnapped and tortured by Ben. Sawyer comes to her rescue, causing a certain doctor to be jealous.

Jack Shephard x Reader

Sawyer Ford x Reader

Requested: Yes! Hope this fulfills your hopes for this story! I may do a part 2 if you like it!

Warnings: cussing, mentions of torture, mentions of wounds, panic attacks and anxiety, also possible heart attacks if you love the gif below like I do.

Also: Does not follow cannon or time line exactly

Because I Love You Part 3

The next few days passed on without incident. You were finally healing. Your headache was gone and your ribs felt a lot better. You were still sore, but you knew you would be that way for a while.

Alex had come to you in hysterics when she found out what happened. She apologized so many times, and demanded to know why you didn’t turn them in and save yourself, especially after all you had done for them. You had told her that you couldn’t be the one that made her go back there. That you’d do it again if you had too. She had hugged you close and cried on your shoulder. Thanking you again and again.

Sawyer’s visits were less emotional. He would spend a good amount of time teasing you like normal, and taking you for short walks so you didn’t go completely insane. He would wrap an arm around you and help you hobble around until you got the hang of it yourself. You would always notice him staring at you though, checking you over.

In between the cracks of hardass Sawyer, was a new softer Sawyer. The one that supported most of your weight, and kept you from falling during your walks. The one that read to you until you fell asleep, and the one that managed to smuggle you a Hershey bar.

This new Sawyer was scary new territory, and you didn’t know how to react. You were glad he wasn’t being such an ass all the time, but you knew there was something up his sleeve. Some ulterior motive to his kindness. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside whenever you noticed his softer side. But even Sawyer’s mystery couldn’t distract you from how much you missed Jack.

You hadn’t spoken to Jack since the incident in the tent. He hadn’t come to check on you once, something Claire had picked up on quite early. Claire was, as always, a godsend, helping you shower and change bandages, but she was now also a curse. The woman was as intuitive as they came and she had begged you to tell her what happened between you and Jack, but it was too fresh and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it. Not even to Claire.

On the fifth day of no Jack and you slowly going insane, Claire finally snapped.

“Y/n, you have to tell me what’s wrong! You’re obviously hurting and I can’t just sit back and watch it happen! Tell me what’s wrong!”

Claire had never been angry with you before. You two had always laughed and had fun together. Never had either one of you been mad at the other, but then again, you and Jack hadn’t ever fought before either and look where you were now.

Maybe it was the reminder that Jack was pissed at you for some unknown reason, or maybe the fact that you were so surprised that she snapped at you, but Claire’s anger finally roused the truth out of you. You sat sobbing, telling her the full story of the fight, the events beforehand, and even your confusing new feelings about Jack. When you were finished, Claire wrapped her arms around you, and pulled you into a warm hug.

“Y/n, dear, the answer is so simple. Jack likes you, y/n, and Sawyer does too. Jack probably felt threatened by him and that’s why he took it out on Sawyer.” She explained as gently as she could.

“Threatened? By what?” You asked, still confused by the whole ordeal.

Claire sighed and then gave a small laugh. “Y/n, Sawyer saved your life when Jack couldn’t.”

“But Jack wasn’t even there..” you tried to interject, before Claire interrupted you.

“I know but, to Jack, he failed you. He’s jealous of Sawyer. He thinks that this will make you fall in love with Sawyer, and when you defended him, it probably set Jack over the edge. Not that that gives him any excuse to be a jerk to you, but you should talk to him.” Claire advised, giving you another squeeze.

Now it was your turn to be angry. “I’m not talking to him! He’s acting ridiculous. He doesn’t like me Claire, at least not like that. There’s no way. He’s just being a dick. I don’t know. But it has nothing to do with him being jealous. No way.” You shut down firmly. You knew Jack, you knew he didn’t care about you that way. You studied him too often not to know if he liked you. Jack Shephard was many things, and obvious was certainly one of them. He couldn’t hide something like that from you.

So it was something else then. Something more simple than feelings. You thought about it long into the night, long after Claire left, and long after you yourself should have been asleep. Jack didn’t like you, couldn’t like you. And Sawyer. Please. He liked anything female with a pulse. But his words from earlier, the words you hadn’t thought about until now echoed in your head until you fell into a restless sleep.

“If you don’t think I feel the same way, then you’re dead wrong Doc.”

********************

You woke up early in the morning. You couldn’t handle another day of doing nothing, and you were tired of feeling useless. You knew your concussion was gone, and as long as you were careful, you shouldn’t disturb any of your other injuries.

You caught up to Kate, who was eating an early breakfast. She smiled when she saw you and offered you a bit of mango. You took the piece gratefully, and smile back.

“How are you feeling?” She asked you politely, but genuinely. You found it hard to dislike Kate, even if you were jealous of her beauty, and the fact that Jack gave her a lot of attention too. Thoughts of Jack made you feel sick. You craved a distraction more than ever now.

The rain hadn’t come for a few days, and the camp was running low on water. Claire had mentioned yesterday that Kate had volunteered to get some from a stream nearby. You had cooked up a plan late last night to go with her. You knew it would help keep your mind off Jack.

“Fine actually.” You said, trying your best to sound like you weren’t kinda lying. You did feel better, but probably not as good as you should be to make a request like you were about too. “In fact, I feel so fine that I was wondering if I could go with you to bring back some water.” You made sure to smile nonchalantly, as if it was normal for someone in your place to ask this.

Kate eyed you warily, trying to look you over for injuries without you noticing. “I don’t know, y/n, maybe that’s not the best idea...” she trailed off, hoping you wouldn’t push it.

“Please! Jack cleared me yesterday, he said I was fine!” You lied through your teeth, praying that she didn’t notice. She still looked unsure, but seemed to trust you.

“Alright. But let me know if you start feeling bad or something alright?”

You were ecstatic, and blamed the joy on finally being able to help out when Kate raised an eyebrow in your direction.

The hike to the stream wasn’t too bad. Kate kept up conversation for a while, but you both withdrew into your thoughts eventually. You hated having time to think, so you made yourself focus on the foliage all around you. You stared hard at the trees and flowers. Flinching every now and then when you saw a spider or bug. Overall the exercise was relaxing, and allowed you to keep your mind off of.... your other issues.

As stimulated as your brain felt when you reached the stream, your body felt a different way. Physically, you were exhausted. Your body trembled as you gathered water in any available container you had. Kate refused to let you carry the heavy bucket, insisting that you stick with small things. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

The walk back was harder for you. You were shaking with exertion and pain. Finally you gave up and told Kate you had to rest for a while, and that she should go on. Kate offered to stay with you, but you insisted she go ahead. You reminded her that people needed the water, and you knew the way back.

The last part was a bit of a lie. You knew the general direction of course, and you were confident you’d be able to find your way back. Kate also seemed confident in you, because she continued on for camp after asking one last time if you needed her to stay.

Sitting in the jungle was relaxing at first, until you began to remember The Others. You had been so caught up in Jack and Sawyer that you hadn’t given Ben a second thought. You had broken out of his clutches without giving him the information about Alex that he had so badly wanted. There was no way he wouldn’t want revenge. Your blood ran cold, and your heart began beating faster with anxiety.

What if they knew you were out here alone? They could come get you any second. You would be defenseless. All because of your stupid pride and your idiocy. You stood quickly from the rock. Looking around anxiously to make sure you were alone. You continued on the path you had watched Kate take, but the further you went from the rock, the less confident you were that you were going the right direction.

On top of all the confusion, every noise was sending you into overdrive. Your breathing started becoming shallow and your heart beat faster and faster. Soon you were having a full blown panic attack.

You sat down on the ground, head spinning and ears ringing. The panic was so strong that you momentarily forgot what caused it. Until you heard the footsteps. You were to scared to move, frozen you sat awaiting your fate. You wondered if it would hurt as bad during round two. Then a hand came down on your shoulder, but you were so lost in the panic attack that you couldn’t even react.

“Hey hey, deep breaths y/n. Deep breaths. With me, in and out. That’s good, keep it up. I’ve got you, you’re safe I promise, in and out.” Jack coached you through the attack expertly. Having him there was enough to ease some of the anxiety, but his gentle voice and breathing techniques were enough to help you kick the panic attack in the ass.

You hadn’t noticed, but Jack had pulled you back against his chest, and nestled you between his legs. You blushed head to toe, and shivered for a different reason, grateful that you were still shaking from earlier to cover it. Jack’s arms were around you, holding you to him. You realized how relaxed you were, which of course immediately made you tense.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, arms tightening around you. You swallowed so loudly you knew he could hear it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked a bit breathlessly. You couldn’t be sure if it was from Jack, the panic attack, or both.

“Kate told me you weren’t feeling good. Told me I should come find you and make sure you were alright. Should I even ask what you were thinking overexerting yourself this way?” That sparked your anger. You tensed up again, ready to move out of his arms, but he tightened his grip, and you were too weak to attempt to wrestle away from him. Instead, you sagged against him completely, the fight drained out of you.

“I felt fine. I was ready to contribute again. I couldn’t handle another day of just laying around doing nothing.” You said. It was only a half lie. The other half of the lie was behind you, and of course you couldn’t share that.

“Why didn’t you come find me? I could’ve told you if you were healed enough for a hike.” He sounded hurt, like I had betrayed him some way for not coming to him. Like he hadn’t been ignoring me for the past 6 days.

“How could I find you when you’ve been ignoring me?” You snapped. “You haven’t talked to me in days, and you expected me to just come up and talk to you? You kick me out of your tent. You never check to see if I’m ok or not. So I just assumed you didn’t care. Of course I’m not going to come find you.” The words poured out of you like vomit. You couldn’t have stopped them if you tried.

Jack’s arms loosened in shock, and you took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t look at him. You blinked back some tears that threatened to fall, one or two managing to roll down your face. Embarrassed at being so emotional, you wiped the tears off your face.

“How can you say I don’t care?” Jack asked in a small voice behind you. You hadn’t heard him get up. “Of course, I care about you.”

“Really? And how was I supposed to know this? You’ve spent the last few days avoiding me like the plague. I never saw you. Not once!” Your voice cracked at the end, betraying you.

“I care about you y/n, of course I do, you have to see that!” Jack sounded desperate, there was an edge to his voice that I hadn’t heard before. “I’ve just been so mad lately. At myself. I just couldn’t face you. I failed you. I should’ve protected you and I didn’t. I should’ve saved you and I didn’t. Sawyer did those things. Not me. It should’ve been me! And I just got so mad and jealous and I...” He stopped, surprised at what he’d just admitted.

“Jealous?” You turned around in shock, asking in a small voice, “Why would you be jealous?”

Jack looked at up at you. Brown eyes burning into yours. His gaze was intense, more intense than any other look he’d ever given you. Than any other look you’d ever received in your whole life. His eyes softened, and with a small nod he spoke confidently.

“Because I love you.”

A/N: I’m not sure if I should end it here or continue it! Hope you enjoy!!

Tags: @flowercrowns-goodvibes

#LOST #lost fanfiction #Jack Shephard #jack shephard x reader #sawyer ford #sawyer ford x reader #ben linus #Kate Austen #fanfiction #slythergirlimagines

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dawnstruck · 7 years ago

Text

Yoonmin Drabble #14

“Hyung?” Jungkook asks, sticking his head into the office. “He's here now. Should I let him in?” Yoongi looks up from the papers he had been frowning at, giving Jungkook a long stare.

“Who's here?”

“Park Jimin,” Jungkook replies and then, after another moment of no recognition on Yoongi's face, he adds, “The dance instructor?”

“Oh,” Yoongi says and the memory rushes back at him. “Right. Send him in.”

“Alright,” Jungkook nods and ducks out again. Only a few moments later, the door opens once more and another man steps in, this one probably older than Jungkook but younger than Yoongi, but it's hard to judge really. Jungkook is tall and broad in the shoulders, and Yoongi himself only doesn't get IDed for alcohol because most of the time he is wearing a suit. This guy is about as short as Yoongi and has an entirely to angelic face, and the fact that he is dressed in leggings, an oversized sweater and comfortable sneakers makes him look like nothing but a college freshman.

“Hello,” Park Jimin says, giving a little bow, and Yoongi stands up from his office chair, though his back protests at the movement.

“Please,” he says, gesturing at one of the cushioned chairs standing in front of the desk, “Have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Park Jimin says. “This is a lovely office.”

It really is, Yoongi can agree on that much. But he hadn't called the man here to talk about his interior design.

“Did Jungkook-ah tell you why I had him contact you?” he asks instead, skipping the useless smalltalk. Jimin seems to catch on to that, sitting a little more attentive. He has to tilt his head back a little because Yoongi is still standing, a habit he developed for when he needed to intimidate business partners and the like.

“He said you needed a dance teacher,” Jimin says, “Because you have a bad back.”

“Yah, that brat,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, “He makes it sound as though I were sixty.” He shakes his head and carries on. “I have developed somewhat chronic back pain because I'm mostly tied to this desk. My doctor said I need to strengthen and stretch the muscles more. And Jungkook-ah recommended you.” Jimin nods, though he looks a little curious. “Wouldn't yoga or pilates be better suited for that?”

“I tried yoga,” Yoongi admits. “But it just made me aggressive.”

“Yoga... made you aggressive?”

“That 'breathe and relax' shit doesn't work for me,” Yoongi explains, the swearword easily slipping out of him. “Just made me annoyed at everyone else in the class.”

“There are different variations, though,” Jimin tells him. “Some focus more on endurance and strength, like power yoga.”

“Look, do you want this job?” Yoongi asks, “Jungkook-ah told me you could always do with some extra money.”

“Ah,” Jimin looks chagrined. “I guess I do.”

“Good,” Yoongi nods, though he has half a mind to call this whole thing off. “I can only do Tuesdays and Sundays, though.”

“What time?”

“Late, of course. Maybe eight?”

“I'll have to check whether I can reserve us a room at the studio.”

“No need,” Yoongi says. “I have no time to drive around town. My living-room is big enough; we can meet there. It's not far from here.

“Oh,” Jimin says, surprised. “That works, too, I guess.”

“Good. Have Jungkook-ah give you the details – my address, payment, appointments, etc. If you have any additional questions at some point, just ask him.”

Yoongi sinks down onto his chair again, his vertebrae creaking, and turns back to his papers.

The next weekend, he has almost forgotten about everything. But then his phone beeps to remind him of the appointment and five minutes later the doorbell is already ringing.

“Evening,” Yoongi greets Jimin as he lets him in. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” Jimin says, slipping out of his shoes and neatly setting them aside. There is a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, but other than that his outfit isn't much different from earlier that week. He isn't subtle about eyeing Yoongi, though, who is still dressed in his fitted suit.

“I just got home ten minutes ago,” Yoongi explains, waving him into the hallway. “Haven't even had dinner yet.”

“You work on Sundays?” Jimin asks and Yoongi scoffs.

“I work every day.”

“Sounds tough,” Jimin muses, “Now I get why Jungkookie calls you a slave driver.”

Yoongi's mouth falls open but he quickly snaps his shut again.

“That little...,” he growls, though he can't really find it in him to be really offended. Jeon Jungkook was his secretary, assistant and protegé, and Yoongi expected utmost dedication of all of his workers. And of himself. A business such as theirs was not run on complacency.

They are in the living-room now, and Jimin lets his eyes draw along the hardwood floors and minimalist furniture that Yoongi had paid someone else to pick out.

“This'll do,” Jimin agrees with Yoongi's earlier verdict. “Go get changed, get a towel and a drink, and we'll begin.”

“Can't I sit down and eat something first?” Yoongi asks.

“No. Your body will just get more tired,” Jimin knows, “And you might throw up.”

Yoongi frowns. “'the fuck are you gonna do to me?”

But Jimin just smiles. “Work you hard.”

Despite Jimin's words, they start slow.

He doesn't want to risk further injury to Yoongi's back, so they start with an easy warm-up first, getting Yoongi reacquainted with all his muscles and the joints that he only knows because they click so much.

There are a few things Yoongi learns about himself:

he cannot touch his toes

he is even less suited to dancing than he is to yoga

he likes the way Jimin's own body twists through the exercises in fluid grace

“Damn,” Yoongi says by the end of it because his entire body hurts but in a way that can only be described as pleasant. He used to play basketball in high school and had always enjoyed that lingering burn, but he had never known to miss it. He suspects he is going to change his tune by tomorrow morning, at the latest, when he has to fight his way out of bed, but perhaps Jungkook's idea had been a good one after all. Not that Yoongi was going to admit that.

“Okay,” Jimin says at length, hands on his hips and giving a decisive nod. “I think we're done for the day.”

They had been at it for about one and a half hours and Yoongi doesn't think he could even go a minute longer. His spine feels as though it would very much like to burst from his back.

“Thank God,” Yoongi moans, wiping the sweat of his temple. The dance moves had all seemed deceptively simply, especially when performed by Jimin, but then Yoongi had found himself struggling to follow. Even the cool-down exercises had been a challenge all of their own. Jimin, in the meanwhile, is barely even out of breath.

“Have a shower, eat something light, and get a good night's rest,” he instructs Yoongi, “And then I'll see you on Tuesday.”

Part of Yoongi wants to tell him no, wants to make up a bullshit excuse and cancel all further appointments. But Min Yoongi is no quitter and so he just nods and watches Jimin leave.

Weeks pass, and Yoongi gets strangely used to his new routine. Half of the time, he wants to bash his head against his desktop when he remembers that he has lessons in the evening, but once Jimin is putting him through the paces again, he finds that he rather enjoys himself.

His back pain, while not miraculously vanished, has already gotten much better, as have his joints and his entire posture. The weight that used to sit on his chest, and the pressure that had settled all over his skeleton had slowly been alleviated, until Yoongi did no longer felt as though each step was torture.

He's been cutting down on the pain killers and the sleeping pills and the alcohol. The other day he even walked to the office when the weather was nice, and when one of Jimin's favorite songs had started playing on the radio one time, Yoongi had even danced along a little, in the safety of his kitchen.

Jimin himself had turned into much more than just a dance instructor. He admonished Yoongi on his unhealthy diet, his irregular sleep schedule, and his choice of footwear, recommending a different brand that would better support his steps. He had even brought Yoongi some herbal tea that was supposed to relax mind and muscles, and Yoongi had resisted at first but now drank it religiously before going to bed each night.

The biggest change, however, was the gradual familiarity that had developed between them. Yoongi knew what kind of music Jimin preferred dancing to, knew which classes he was teaching at the studio, knew the way droplets of sweat pearled down along Jimin's temples when he went all out.

Yoongi, in turn, had made some concessions of his own. When he had been late from work one Tuesday he had come home to find Jimin shivering in the drizzle, Yoongi had simply given him a key set and permission to simply let himself if whenever Yoongi wasn't home yet.

And that is, perhaps, what ends up changing things the most.

Yoongi knows that Jimin is already there by the way the windows in his living-room are illuminated when he parks his car and glances up along the side of the building. He knows it by the rhythmic beats that spill out underneath the door before he even unlocks it. He knows it by the soft tread of feet on wood as he steps out of the hallway and sees Jimin lost to the music.

Jimin dances with a kind of abandon that is unfamiliar to someone like Yoongi. Because Yoongi knew hard work, he knew drive and dedication and the struggle that came with becoming the best version of yourself. But he does not know passion, not like this.

Jimin dances as though he had never known anything else, dances the way other people breathe - unconsciously, freeing, life-affirming.

Finally, he does a half-turn and spots Yoongi leaning against the door frame, simply watching him.

“Oh,” Jimin says, coming to an abrupt halt. “You should have said something.”

Yoongi shakes his head with a lopsided smile.

“You're good at that,” he says, pushing himself away and walking further into the room.

Jimin snorts.

“I better be,” he says, carding the hair out of his face. “I've been doing this since I was a little kid.”

“Some things can't be taught,” Yoongi knows. For some reason, he cannot help but remember their very first meeting, stilted and unfamiliar as they had been. Back then he had been wearing a suit as well while Jimin had been in his comfortable workout clothes. Yet everything else is different not.

He pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek and thinks for a moment.

“What are you doing on Friday?” he asks at length and Jimin frowns.

“Friday? Do you have to reschedule one of our sessions?”

“No,” Yoongi says. “But I'd like to take you to my favorite restaurant, if you have time.”

A look of surprise passes over Jimin's face but it is quickly replaced by quiet pleasure.

“Friday sounds good,” he says, and Yoongi smiles. It seemed he'd have to give Jungkook that raise after all.

#kpop #bts #yoonmin #suji #dawnstruck drabble: bts

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historyrepeatsitself-phff · 8 years ago

Text

Chapter Seventy-Three

A/N: I know it’s a few days early, but I’ve actually only just written this chapter and I wanted to share it with you guys now so that we can get to Baby Clarence’s arrival sooner. Please enjoy and let me know what you think 💖

14TH NOVEMBER – Day before Due Date

The day after Remembrance Sunday, Emmy awoke without nerves running through her veins, for once. She laid in bed, stretching out and sighing, trying to get comfy. Harry was already up, getting ready for his visit to the Chelsea Pensioners, and so the bed was huge and empty. She stared up at the ceiling, looking forward to her day ahead. She would be on her own for most of it, so she was planning to get ahead on housework, to watch the last few episodes of Season 5 of The Walking Dead, and to also get some little exercises done. She’d been starting her mornings with some stretches and whatever yoga she could manage in the little time they’d had the last week, and today she was eager to finally finish her wake up routine.

She might even have a bath.

She didn’t need to go out of the house, mainly because – with the due date so close – Harry didn’t want to risk her going into labour in the middle of a supermarket, and so he would be going to Sainsbury’s on his way home from the engagement. Basically, Emmy wouldn’t be leaving the house until this baby was out of her. And, if the doctors were right, then she had only one more day to wait.

“Remember,” Harry said an hour later, when he was on his way out and Emmy was munching some toast in the kitchen. “Keep your phone on you at all times.”

“I know, I know,” she said gently, smiling.

“I can’t bear the thought of you going into labour here on your own and not being able to contact me,” he said. “And Claire. You need to phone Claire, she’s just over in the Palace, she’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“Harry, I know,” Emmy said. “We’ve gone over this so much.”

“I know, I just…” He sighed, then took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m so excited, I want it to go perfectly.”

“It will,” she replied, reaching up to cup his furry cheek and pull him down for a kiss. “I read that most babies aren’t even born on their due date.”

“Yeah, I expect most come a day early, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow and grinning. “You’re not filling me with confidence.”

“Just go before you talk yourself out of it,” Emmy said, laughing. “I’ll be here when you get back. And she’ll still be inside me, too.”

He chuckled, crouching down so he was level with her bump. “Hey, baby, don’t come rushing out, okay? Take your time, little one.” He kissed her belly button through her pyjama top, then straightened up and kissed Emmy’s lips. “Be careful, okay?”

“Harry, if you knew the day I have planned ahead you’d know that I’m going to be fine.”

“I love you,” he said, kissing her once more. “Both of you.”

Emmy smiled, her heart fluttering, and then she watched him as he shut the front door behind him and crossed the gardens towards the palace. She sighed; and now she was alone.

She had to admit, she was quite nervous that the baby would come when she was all on her own, but she prayed that her little girl would wait at least until Daddy came home before she made an appearance.

Emmy finished her piece of toast before heading into the lounge to do some of her easy stretches.

15th November – Due Date

“Today’s the day,” Harry said excitedly, as he made himself and Emmy some cereal on Tuesday morning.

Emmy smiled at him; she felt quite sick, mainly from the nerves. “You know, most babies don’t even arrive on their due date.”

“But some do,” he replied, grinning. “Just think, Em. This time tomorrow we might have a little baby!”

She couldn’t help but melt at the excitement on his face. “We might do. Or we might be sat here, saying the exact same thing as we are now.”

He chuckled. “Touché. Are you going to be alright without me today?”

“Do you have to go to work today?” She reached across the island and entangled her fingers with his, pouting slightly at him. She saw his resolve shatter at her expression, and he looked pained as he nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been so busy with remembrance week that I’ve barely been back to the ministry. I’ve got a meeting with some psychologists to see what they’re opinions are on the new rehabilitation scheme.”

Emmy nodded sadly. She was forever proud of how much effort and attention he put into his work, but today she really wished he could stay home. She knew that it was very normal – as the father only receives two weeks of paternity leave, it is usual for him to work up until the baby is born and only then take time off, so that all of it can be spent with his new baby. Although Harry’s job was hardly normal, and he knew he’d have lots of time after the baby was born as his workload had been lightened, he wanted to do things by the book.

But Emmy was scared that she would go into labour while he was away, and the thought of dealing with not only the pain but also the fear and the stress all on her own was terrifying.

It was funny how one whole day could make so much difference. Only yesterday her and Harry’s roles had been reversed.

“You said it yourself,” he said lightly, grinning. “Babies are rarely born on their due date.”

“Yeah,” Emmy said, fighting a smile as he quoted her. “I’m just…going to miss you.”

He kissed her deeply before he left, and Emmy moved into the living room to do her usual stretches. She could only manage a few, her bump so heavy and uncomfortable, and although she didn’t want to go into labour on her own, she was desperate for the little baby to be out of her.

That desperation was only growing by the end of the day when, to Harry’s relief and Emmy’s impatience, she was still very much pregnant by the time Harry returned home.

“I’m sure she’ll be out tomorrow,” Harry reassured her, when they went to bed. Emmy was tired out, and she laid on her back, staring at her enormous bump, running her hand over it.

“Let’s hope,” she said, somewhat bitterly. She was tired of being pregnant now.

“She must just really like living in you,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled her into his arms – awkwardly, for she was very large and was also not in the mood for cuddles. “You’ve made a nice home for her.”

“Maybe she’s just lazy,” Emmy said grumpily.

Harry fought a laugh – he was in no position to laugh at her words, he had no idea what she was going through. But if he could carry the baby instead of her, he 10000% would’ve.

“Let’s try and get some rest,” Harry said soothingly, tracing her arm with his fingertips. “Maybe tomorrow will be her birthday, huh?”

“Hmm,” Emmy said, letting his cheerfulness eat away at her irritation, and she vowed not to let her discomfort put her in a bad mood the following day.

16th November – One day after Due Date

It did put her in a bad mood. Harry hastily left her that morning after she snapped at him for not getting her any cereal – he had an engagement and had to leave early anyway, and then she scowled at the TV for most of the morning, annoyed by the news and then by Loose Women and then by Friends when that came on. She sighed, laying down on the sofa and willing the pain to go away. Her back ached from supporting the weight, her legs ached too, her head hurt from fatigue as she’d barely got any sleep last night, unable to get comfy, and she felt as though her bladder was constantly full. It didn’t help that she was so thirsty, she kept drinking water, only to pee it out every five minutes.

To her surprise, Taylor arrived just after lunchtime. She smiled widely at her best friend.

“Hello!” she said, dancing into the house with some bags. “I’ve brought food! And some magazines for you to read, please don’t yell at me!”

Emmy sighed; so Harry had told her that she’d been in a bad mood that morning. She cursed him, but swallowed a bitter retort. She didn’t need people talking about her behind her back, but she also didn’t want another argument that day. She was too tired for it.

“Come in,” Emmy said, rubbing her cheek as Taylor moved into the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter.

“I come bringing good news, you know,” Taylor added, flashing her a huge grin before pulling out a newspaper and waving it under Emmy’s nose. Emmy frowned, trying to grab it, but Taylor pulled it out of her reach playfully, before giggling and brandishing it again. Emmy growled and snatched it.

“I know you mean well,” Emmy said. “But don’t piss me off, please.”

“Hmm, I heard you’re a little grumpy today.”

“I don’t appreciate Harry bitching about me to you,” she replied, glaring at her best friend.

Taylor looked apologetic. “He wasn’t bitching, you know. He was worried. He told me how uncomfortable you are, that you barely slept last night. He asked me to come and keep you company. He’s also super worried that your little baby will arrive when you’re on your own.”

“He wouldn’t have to worry if he just stayed home,” Emmy said. “He insists on going in to work! Just stay here. With me.” She trailed off, realizing how whingy she sounded, and felt a blush tainting her cheeks. Taylor didn’t notice.

“Have a look at the paper,” she said eagerly.

“What have they written about me this time?” Emmy mumbled, glancing at the picture of her from Remembrance Sunday a few days earlier on the front and forcing herself not to read the rest – anytime she’d made the front page since the wedding it had nearly always been for useless gossip, if not to focus on her outfit or her baby bump. All of her charity work was widely ignored in the Daily Mail.

“Trust me, it’s okay,” Taylor insisted, taking some crisps into the living room. “You’ll like it, it should make you feel better.”

Emmy finally cast her eyes down to the picture of her. Over the top of it, the headline read Emmy has impressive busy week as the world waits for Baby Clarence. If the word ‘impressive’ hadn’t been in there, Emmy wouldn’t have bothered reading the rest, but that word intrigued her, and so she flipped to the page with the story on it and read, and as she took the article in, she felt her heart lifting with joy. The article relayed how much work she’d been doing, not only in this last week, but throughout the entire pregnancy, and it highlighted just how many engagements had been to good, honourable charities and causes, some of them were highlighted. They commended her for not taking all the limelight with overpriced outfits, they praised her for not being scared to run over schedule to keep talking to people, and they congratulated her on an amazing nine months while speculating what might be to come for the Duchess in the future, including other charities she may visit. They even said that the Duchess of Cambridge should take a leaf out of her book!

When Emmy finished reading, she looked up with tears in her eyes. Taylor looked dismayed.

“Oh shit, what?!” she blurted, jumping to her feet. “Was there something in there that I missed?! I thought it was all nice stuff!”

“It is,” Emmy said, sniffling. “Oh, Tay, they were so nice about me!”

Taylor broke into a relieved smile, then said, “You mean, they actually spoke the truth for once.”

“They actually like me!”

“They do, it’s funny how the Daily Mail has changed its tune since the tour of India,” Taylor said. “But it’s about time they started giving you credit for being amazing.”

Emmy nibbled on her bottom lip at the last line of the article. “Kate isn’t going to like that they said that.”

“Maybe it’ll encourage her to do more herself?” Taylor suggested. “She’s going to have to go out and show her face a bit while you’re looking after your little one, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Emmy said. She couldn’t really imagine staying at home all the time, even with a little baby, she hoped she and Harry would take it in turns to stay and look after the baby. She looked back at the article, and couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for bringing me this.”

“You’re welcome, I thought you’d like it,” Taylor replied. “Skippy actually told me about it, someone at his work was reading it, he told me to get it for you.”

“Skippy?” Emmy said, collapsing onto the sofa and sighing, then she raised an eyebrow. “You and Skippy are pretty good friends, huh?”

Taylor rolled her eyes, but a blush tainted her cheeks. “Don’t start getting ideas. Yes, we’re good friends. We see each other a lot.”

“A lot, huh?” Emmy said, smirking.

“I see you’re feeling much better now,” Taylor said, scowling as her blush deepened. “What time is Harry getting home, I don’t know how long I can put up with you.”

Emmy giggled. “I’m sorry, I’m only teasing. But you guys do spend a lot of time together…” She trailed off, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Stop it!”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve been single for a while now and I know how much you hate being single, I was just wondering whether that was because you’d finally found someone you really wanted to be with.”

“I’m single because thanks to your wedding I’m too famous to just go out with any random guy, let alone go home with one,” she replied, pouting. “And now you think I fancy Skippy.”

“You two are cute together,” Emmy said, shrugging, then she grinned mischievously. “I ship you, remember that? When you taught me the meaning of the word?”

Taylor laughed. “And you said you shipped ‘Bemmy’ because that was back when you and Harry weren’t a thing.”

Emmy chuckled lightly, casting her mind back to before the wedding, before her and Harry were a thing. She did kind of miss it, their innocent teasing, their playfulness, Harry’s brotherly protectiveness. But still – she wouldn’t give up what she had for the world.

“How are you and Harry?” Taylor asked. “Aside from when you’re biting his head off for not making you breakfast, of course.”

Emmy bit her lip, embarrassed. “He told you about that?”

“Mm-hmm, he was upset by it,” she answered. “Everything he does, he does for you, you know that? The only problem is that he also has to do stuff for the royal family and the country, too. But you’re still his number one.”

“Not for much longer,” Emmy said, dropping her gaze to her bump and rubbing it gently. She realized that the thought of Harry putting everything into their little daughter really didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. She couldn’t wait to see Harry and her little girl together. “He’s going to be the perfect dad.”

“I’m sure he already is,” Taylor said. “How you feeling about the birth?”

“I’m terrified, but I’m trying not to think about it,” Emmy said. “Which I would be doing all day if you weren’t here right now, so thank you for coming and keeping me company.”

“Any time.” She smiled. “I don’t see nearly as much of you as I would like anymore.”

“You know how it is,” Emmy replied, sighing. “How’s Chris?”

She’d barely seen her friend since everything had happened with Kian, and last she heard he was planning on moving back to where his parents lived – the city life was getting too much for him.

“He’s still wanting to move home,” Taylor said. “I’m planning on getting one of our friends from Marlborough to come and live with me. You remember Christie, right?”

“Christie Gray?” Emmy asked. “Sure, I haven’t seen her in years.”

“We met up a few times, well she’s just split up from her fiancé and she wants to move out, hopefully she’ll be coming to live with me.”

“Oh good,” she said, wondering what kind of precautions would have to be taken upon letting Christie back into her life. “I never really see Chris that much anymore, is he okay?”

“He has major trust issues now,” Taylor said. “Everytime someone talks to him in a bar now he just blanks them, he’s sure they’re trying to use him to get to you.”

Her heart broke at that, and she tried to force the thought from her mind. “That’s awful.”

“Hmm, that’s why he’s going home, where no one will know who he is, apparently,” Taylor explained. “I think he just doesn’t want to risk running into Kian again.”

“I don’t blame him,” Emmy said. Even though it had been two months since the rat had been discovered and Kian had been forced to leave them alone, she still felt the repercussions of his actions, the memories of the despair and the suspiciousness that had come with knowing someone was leaking their secrets. She would never forget how she’d felt, thinking that Taylor or Chris had sold her out.

Taylor appeared to have gotten over it rapidly, but Emmy still suspected she was wary of upsetting her again.

Emmy was so grateful for Taylor being there that day – she made the time fly by, she took Emmy’s mind off the imminent, scary birth and she even helped Emmy prepare the dinner ready for Harry’s return. Emmy was frying chicken while Taylor cooked some broccoli when Harry’s arrival sounded from the hallway.

“Em?” he called out, and the front door closed. “Everything okay?”

“In the kitchen,” she replied, breaking into a smile as he appeared in the doorway. He looked relieved at the sight of her.

“Thank god, you’re still here,” he breathed, crossing the room and pulling her into a hug. She giggled. “I was worried about you all day.”

“You really think I wouldn’t call?” she said lightly, perching on her tip-toes to kiss him in greeting. He was smiling broadly at her, delighted to find her in a better mood than when he’d left.

“I don’t know, maybe to spite me for not making you breakfast?” he teased, rubbing her bump before moving away to undo his tie and slip out of his blazer.

She blushed, ducking her head and smiling sheepishly. “I am sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, you have more than enough reason to be snappy,” he replied, grinning. Then his expression softened into concern. “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“It’s just really difficult to get comfortable,” she said, shrugging.

“How was your day?” he asked. “Did you two have fun?”

Taylor looked over at Emmy. “Tell him about the article.”

“Oh yeah!” Emmy’s face lit up with delight, and she moved as fast as her pregnant stomach would let her into the next room. Harry, intrigued by her happiness at what sounded like a newspaper article, followed. “Look at this! Look at this!”

She watched excitedly as Harry read the article, a proud smile dawning on his face, and when he’d finished he grinned at her. “Wow, this is amazing!”

“It’s so nice, isn’t it?!” Emmy said, almost squealing with excitement. “It was so unexpected! Taylor brought it round for me to read, and I was like woah!.” She giggled, and he couldn’t help but laugh with her. “They were nice to me.”

“You sure as hell deserve it,” he replied. “I mean, they’re only stating facts.”

She smiled, taking his hand and leading him back into the kitchen. “Sit down, you’ve probably had a long day.”

“No, Em, let me,” he said, trying to move her hands away from the chicken.

“You’ve been to work!”

“But you’re pregnant,” he insisted, grinning at her and trying to move her wide waist aside. “Let me. Taylor, are you eating with us?”

“No, I’ll love you and leave you now that you’re home,” Taylor answered. “Just keeping Emmy company in case the little one decided to make an appearance while Daddy was at work.” She smirked at him.

“Please don’t ever call me ‘Daddy’ again, Taylor.”

Emmy giggled lightly. “Am I the only one allowed to call you that?”

He leant over the island and, against her lips, he murmured, “You can call me whatever you like, babe.”

“Woah, that sounds like my cue to go,” Taylor said, grinning at them both as she washed her hands. “Now, if I don’t see you, good luck! Let me know if anything happens! I want to meet the little one too, okay?”

Emmy smiled, but she felt oddly nervous now she was saying goodbye to her best friend. What if the next time she saw her she had a baby?! “Bye Taylor.”

“I hope that this time tomorrow your daughter’s arrived,” Taylor said.

Harry barked a laugh. “Trust me, so do we.”

17th November – Two days after Due Date

She hadn’t. The following day Emmy spent on her own, doing some ironing and reading some more of her newest book. She tried to do the housework, but it tired her out so much she gave up. Her and Harry had salad that night because she was too exhausted to stand preparing dinner for too long.

18th November – Three days after Due Date

“I know exactly how you feel,” Kate said. “This little one was four days late.” She bounced Charlotte up and down on her knee, and Charlotte giggled.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Emmy mused. “I just want her out now.”

“Not long now,” Kate said. “If she’s any longer they’ll consider inducing her.”

“Oh, I don’t want that,” Emmy said, shuddering. “That sounds painful and unnatural.”

“You may get to the point where you just can’t take it any longer,” Kate said sadly. “My friend had to be induced. It did make it easier, at least.”

“Hmm.” Emmy hoped she wouldn’t get to that point. Her baby was still only three days late. That was normal, right? “Where’s George?”

“He’s at nursery,” Kate said. “They’ve started making Christmas decorations now, he’s been bringing home so much glitter. It’s in his hair every day, I truly don’t understand how he manages it.” She laughed softly. “I bet you’re not even thinking about Christmas, are you?”

“I totally forgot it was a thing,” Emmy admitted. “I should probably have done my Christmas shopping before she arrived. Oh well, too late now.”

“Just get Harry to do it,” Kate said, with a laugh.

“Oh god, Kate did you actually want to get a gift this year?”

The two ladies laughed together, and Charlotte joined in. “Is Harry at work today?” Kate asked.

“Yeah, he’s going in to help with the rehabilitation scheme right up until I’m in labour,” Emmy said, with a little roll of her eyes. “He’s doing things the normal way, apparently.”

Kate smiled. “I hope to God you don’t go into labour while he’s not here.”

“Hmm, that’s my biggest fear too,” Emmy said. “But this little one doesn’t seem to be wanting to come out of me anytime soon, so…”

“She’ll be here before you know it, I’m sure.”

19th November – Four days after due date

Harry was off today, and he and Emmy spent the day curled up on the sofa mainly. It was so nice to have him there with her – the stress of worrying what would happen if she went into labour on her own was gone, and he was forever helping her get to her feet whenever she needed to go to the bathroom. He did some of the housework around her, hoovering under her feet and making it suck on her hair, causing her to giggle and bat at him. And then they curled up again to watch Mean Girls, one of their old favourites.

Harry made dinner that evening, and Emmy came to sit in the kitchen as he cooked it, watching him flit about the room, doing everything.

“If you need me to do anything, just say,” she said apprehensively.

“Just sit there a look pretty,” he replied, then paused and looked over at her, before grinning. “Well done.”

She fought a smile. “Smells delicious.”

“It’s an old favourite,” he said. “And also, I’ve seen Friends. I know that spicy food is meant to make the baby arrive.”

“Spicy?” Emmy said, raising an eyebrow. “How spicy?”

“Moderately,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought a smirk.

“Ugh, Harry!” she complained. “You know I can’t eat super spicy food! You might have burnt all your tastebuds off but mine are still in tact!”

“It’s fine, it’ll be fine, I’ll put extra cream in if it’s too hot!” he said, then chuckled at her expression. “I’m sorry, I just forget how much of a weakling you are.”

She huffed with mock annoyance, but before she could continue the teasing, a sudden pain shot through her abdomen, growing slightly, before passing. She stopped, frozen. Was that a contraction?!

She pretended nothing had happened, although her heart had accelerate in panic. She watched Harry continuing to prepare the dinner, wondering whether she should tell him. No, she’d wait and see if it happened again.

About five minutes later, she had another contraction. This one was sharper, the pain more like the books had described, and she gasped out in surprise, in hurt.

Harry spun round, eyes wide, panic written across his face. “Emmy? You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling reassuringly at him once the pain had passed. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I just…I think I just had a contraction.”

Harry went into soldier mode immediately. Almost as though following orders, he started switching off the stove, showing food into the bin, running around rinsing things, before he hurried over and paused in front of her. She’d had another mild contraction while she’d been sat there and he’d been panicking.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure they’re contractions,” she said. “Help me up, I need to go to the toilet before we leave.”

Her forearms wrapped round his as he helped her to her feet, and then, as she straightened up, the sound of something dripping made them both look down. A wet patch was spreading across her leggings. Her waters had broken.

“Shit!” Harry gasped, panic flickering on his face. “Oh my god Emmy!”

“Oh my god, okay, okay!” she said, trying to take deep breaths. “Oh my god!”

“Stay here, I’ll go get the bag!” he blurted, then shouted back as he ran upstairs, “Phone Claire! And Rick!”

Harry returned a few minutes later, out of breath, his cheeks red, his eyes exhilarated. He paused to take her in, and she smiled nervously. “You okay?”

She managed a nod, swallowing. “Harry, we’re having a baby!”

He laughed with her at her excitement, squeezing her hands and leaning forward to kiss her. Her blue eyes, although clouded with fear, were shining with anticipation, with disbelief.

Rick arrived at the door then, ready to help them to across the lawn to the car.

“You know, Emmy,” Harry said, as the three of them left the house, his arm wrapped securely round his wife. “If you didn’t want to eat my curry, you should’ve just said.”

#historyrepeatsitself-phff #Prince Harry #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction

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twxntrash · 8 years ago

Text

The Moon Is Beautiful, Isn’t It? Ch 11

The next day, things didn't get any better between them like one might have hoped. Rather, in some ways, it got even worse than before. The following day, the day after that and so on and so on, Peridot did everything she could do just to avoid any sort of contact with one Lapis Lazuli. Keeping it to a minimum of required interactions in class. She'd come in just before the bell rang rather than early like she usually did, and as soon as the bell rang again, she was out the door and into the hall fast enough that even The Flash would have been impressed.

She rarely gave Lapis a chance to catch her before or after class, and on the days that Lapis did succeed in stopping her, Peridot would make excuse after excuse to get away. Even during her free period, she had become hard for the teacher to find and even harder to get more than a couple words of conversation in.

Her excuses were hardly believable, and with how fast she'd rush to get away compared to before; it was painfully obvious to both parties that she was avoiding Lapis like the plague. Neither of them liked this at all.

After spending the entire night away following her talk with Jasper and despite what the woman had said, Peridot had come to the decision that she couldn’t, shouldn’t, have these feelings for Lapis. She’d decided that the best way to solve this problem and save herself from the inevitable heartbreak and grief was to get rid of those feelings as quickly and thoroughly as she could. Avoiding the problem was the best thing she figured she could do. If she spent as little time as possible around Lapis, then this stupid crush would have to fade away. That was her line of thinking, at least.

Not that it was really making things any easier for anyone. For Lapis, all this did was eat her up inside with guilt and paranoia. Peridot was also drowning in a sea of anxiety herself, constantly torn between wanting to hang with Lapis again and trying to kill off her crush on her. With no end in sight to this ordeal, things were gradually getting worse for them.

The one thing that could be agreed on for the both of them was that this was awful.

It was killing her. The stress this was causing her was going to be the death of her. It was clear her plan to avoid Lapis wasn’t bearing any results as of yet, but she hadn’t any idea what else she could try. Her heart still picked up in pace whenever she saw the blue haired woman, and it hurt when she had to avoid her. Sometimes she’d catch a glimpse of hurt in those lovely blue eyes and she’d feel like she’d been stabbed in the gut.

A part of her just wished that she didn’t have to avoid Lapis, that she never realized she had a crush on her. Things could still be normal between them and she could still hang out with her.

She couldn’t sleep, she barely ate. She sure as Hell couldn’t focus when she was in class. All Peridot wanted was for this to be done with, her feelings gone so everything could be normal again. So she could be normal again.

The blonde let out a quiet sigh to herself. She was having a hard time paying attention to the lecture her teacher was droning on about. Occasionally she could feel Pearl and Amethyst glance at her. Though she hadn’t told them anything about what was going on, they’d been quick to pick up on her behavior. While neither said anything to her about it, it was clear they were growing concerned for her.

She was just glad they weren’t asking questions. Peridot wasn’t sure how she’d explain trying to get rid of a crush on her art teacher to them.

Once class was over, her free period before lunch would kick up and she’d be back to hiding from Lapis for two hours before she went to her next class. She hopes that Lapis wasn’t going to catch her today, and would maybe start to ease up on trying to talk to her. But, she was somewhat doubtful. The woman had been growing more persistent these past couple of days and Peridot was growing worried that she’d find out where she had been hiding all this time.

She just had to be quick. It’s not like Lapis would check the weight room without any reason too. She actively avoided that part of the school along with the gym and field. Never told Peridot why, but, she figured she ought to be safe from Lapis in there.

Quietly, Peridot rested her head on her desk, not even listening to the teacher at this point. God, she was such a coward. This could be done and over if she’d just go and talk to Lapis rather than hiding from her like this.

But, she was scared. Terrified, in fact. It would be too easy to screw up whatever friendship she had forged with Lapis by having a dumb crush on her and Lapis finding out. Not that she probably wasn’t already with avoiding her. But, at least Lapis wouldn’t hate her, or worse, think less of her for this like she was bound to do if Peridot came out and told her about these useless feelings. Lapis would do the responsible thing and ask Peridot to just cut ties with her, start treating her like a student rather than a friend or ask to have Peridot removed from her class to avoid any trouble. That would be worse than whatever outcome avoiding Lapis could produce.

The blonde must have spaced out, lost in her own thoughts and so deep in them that when the bell rang and signaled the end of class, Peridot nearly jumped right out of her skin. A few of the other students chuckled at the display, but most of them didn’t pay her any mind as she hastily scrambled to stuff her books and notebooks into her bag and get out of the room as fast as she could.

Her two friends tried to call her over, but Peridot just gave Amethyst and Pearl a wave and an ‘I’ll talk to you later’ as she rushed out of the classroom and into the packed halls. She couldn’t waste any time, get out of the halls before Lapis could catch sight of her.

She didn’t stop by her locker anymore during this break. At this point, she’d begun keeping her books for her next class in her bag. It saved her a couple of minutes so she could shove past some of the other students as she made her way to her hiding spot.

As the days of avoidance had turned into a week, and a week turned into two, Peridot found herself spending the two hours she usually spent with Lapis hanging around in the weight room. Sometimes Jasper was there, sometimes she wasn’t and Peridot would be alone in there. During those times she would play a game on her phone or maybe play something on a portable console she brought.

When the Amazonian woman was there in the weight room the two would do light workouts just to pass the time. It started as Peridot watching Jasper work out, and eventually join her, then to being coached on simple exercises. They’d have small talk and Jasper would put her through a drastically less grueling workout compared to her gym classes. They never talked about Jaspers mysterious ex or Peridots unnamed crush.

A few gave out sharp remarks at being pushed about, but she ignored them. At the moment, the other students weren’t really her concern. She wanted to get out of the halls. Right now the blonde was a sitting duck waiting to be snatched up.

Breaking through the thicker patches of students, Peridot stepped into a different hall away from the masses. There weren’t that many students, just a couple that was more or less heading back to their next class. So far she hadn’t seen the art teacher, so, so far so good. She wasn’t that far now.

Before Peridot could take another step forward, a large, thick arm grabbed her by the shoulder stopping her in her path. She let out a startled squeak which was answered by a deep, amused laugh as the hand slowly let her go.

“Wow, you are pretty jumpy,” Jasper pushed some of her white strands out of her face. She was clad in sweats, a bag over one of her broad shoulders with water and towels. “Are you on your way to the weight room?” she asked as though she didn’t already know the answer to that question.

Peridot gave a small nod, “Yeah,” she replied.

Jasper gave her a once over and raised a brow, “Still refusing to dress properly for this sort of thing, I see,” she said, gesturing to the jeans, “But, whatever.”

The two started walking down the hall, idle chatter from the other students filling the silence between the two.

Peridot waited until they turned a corner to speak up, glancing at the behemoth of a woman. Despite having spent so much time with her now during her periods of hiding, she was still quite a bit afraid of Jasper, the woman could easily snap her in two and she still had a bit of a temper. A lot of times, Peridot felt it was like walking on eggshells around her, who knew what would get her angry.

“What kind of exercise did you have in mind for us today?” she asked her.

Jasper shrugged in response, eyes staying focused in front of them as they walked, her strides so big and long that Peridot had to speed walk to keep up with her, “I figured we might work on some light endurance training. You could certainly use it, might let you last longer during gym.”

Even though she said it would be ‘light’ training, Peridot still couldn’t help the mild dread that filled her. Even the ‘easy’ stuff Jasper did with her was a bit intense. Maybe that was just because Peridot was out of shape.

“Well, we have two hours for that, so, hopefully, it has some rewards to it,” Peridot added a bit lightly. A small chuckle was her response from the gym teacher.

“Consider it your reward when you’re able to do a full pacer.”

She grimaced at the mention of the activity. The pacers had always been her least favorite activity in the gym since she could remember- that and the pull-ups they had to do in front of everyone in the class. “I think I’ll pass. I just got word from my doctor and I’ll be sick when you make us do that,” she had made her voice as monotone as she could and her expression completely blank. She was rewarded with a deep, full-bellied laugh and a rather sharp slap to the back.

“You’re amusing, I’ll give you that,” Jasper shook her head as she spoke.

The bell had rung at this point, students would be in class, minus the handfuls that were in their free periods. The occasional light flickered above telling tale of a dying bulb as the two made their way down the hall. The two probably stuck out like sore thumbs, Peridot had to muse to herself.

The tallest teacher in the school strolling alongside one of the shortest students. The stark contrast was bound to turn a few heads, and they did get the occasional glance from students and teachers that were standing around or walking by. Well, Jasper did. Peridot doubted anyone really saw her when the gym teacher towered and blocked her from most anyone’s line of sight.

Well, she did land in the crosshairs of one person, and she really wished she hadn’t.

“Peridot?”

Both Peridot and Jasper came to a complete stop. Stepping out of one of the rooms was the very same woman that Peridot had been trying so desperately hard to avoid for those few weeks. The student swallowed a lump in her throat and did her best to avoid eye contact, she didn’t notice Jasper tense up as well at the sight of Lapis.

The blue haired teacher took a step towards them. Her eyes on Peridot and only Peridot. But after a few moments, she let herself look to the towering companion and felt a heat boil inside her as she narrowed her eyes at Jasper. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn’t because she was looking at Jasper that she felt a bit of anger inside her, but because of how friendly Jasper was acting towards Peridot. She bit back the scowl that wanted the surface and instead smiled, looking back to the blonde.

“Peridot, I’m glad I ran into you,” she said, taking another step towards them. “I had something I wanted to talk to you about. Can I get a minute with you, alone?” she added the last part, eyes flittering over to Jasper.

At the request, Peridot felt at a loss. “I, um,” she mumbled, grabbing the strap of her bag and toying with the buttons on it warily. Could she outright refuse Lapis’ request, in front of another teacher at that? She didn’t want to spend time with Lapis alone, it was only going to make it harder to ignore her crush, let alone get rid of those feelings. Besides, she had a sinking feeling she knew why Lapis wanted to talk to her.

To ask and probe on why Peridot was avoiding her. If she did that, Peridot would end up fessing up whether she wanted to or not.

“Is it, um, urgent?” Peridot asked instead. Not daring to look Lapis in the face.

Lapis nodded, “Well, it’s not going to end the world if we don’t, but, I would like to get this out of the way right now so we don’t have to worry about it later,” she answered easily. It wasn’t a lie, Lapis herself just wanted to get to the source of why her friend avoided her like the plague, so she could know what she did wrong and fix it as soon as possible.

Before either could say anything else, Jasper stepped up to the plate, “Sorry, Lazuli,” she said curtly, hand on Peridots shoulder, “but, we were in the middle of something already. Can you save it for another day?” Before Lapis could respond, she turned to Peridot, “Why don’t you go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a minute. Okay?”

Not wanting to be there anymore, feeling anxiety clawing its way up her from the bowels of her soul, Peridot just nodded mutely and scurried down the hall to the weight room while Jasper stayed behind. Practically blocking Lapis from moving on.

When Jasper was sure that Peridot had left, she let her gaze harden on the shorter teacher, thick arms crossing over her chest as a frown took over her face.

Now, despite the stereotypes saying that all athletes were all brawn and no brain, she was by no means an idiot. She was a teacher after all, and she had still passed her own classes from high school to college with A’s and B’s. Looking at the scene that had just occurred, well, she’d have to be completely daft not to notice what was going on.

She could piece together the facts when they were laid out before her. Peridot had said her crush and she had gotten lunch together often. She had a feeling that Lapis hung around Peridot during lunch periods, would explain why she was never around during that hour.

Jasper was not an idiot.

“Jasper,” Lapis’ tone did nothing to hide the clear disdain she had facing her ex, “Can you move? I need to discuss some classwork with Peridot.”

“Don’t even try,” Jasper cut in rather quickly, moving over to block Lapis’ path when she tried to get by her. She could see plain as day that Lapis was lying, and she didn’t like it one bit, “Since when did you start hanging around with children? Didn’t know you were interested in the younger crowd now.”

“This has nothing to do with you, back off.”

Jasper felt her own temper start to boil, “In case you’re forgetting, she’s one of my students. It’s part of my job to help keep her safe from monsters,” Jasper curled her upper lip back as she stepped closer to Lapis, “Monsters. Like. You.”

She could see she struck a nerve from the expression on Lapis face. A mixture of hurt, fear, and most dominant; anger.

Stepping back, Jasper crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glower at Lapis, “I don’t know what you plan to do with her, and frankly, I don’t want to know,” she was probably just going to toy around with the kid and toss her to the curb when she got bored. It was what Lapis always did, “but you need to back off. Peridot ain’t like me; she can’t take the abuse you like to inflict like I can.”

Hands clenched in shaking fists and knuckles going white, it was a tremendous act of willpower that Lapis didn’t bring her fist right into Jasper’s awful face, “I’m not. A monster,” she said in broken words between clenched teeth, “I actually tried to get better, am trying. Unlike you.”

Jasper didn’t buy it. After the numerous stitches and scars over the years, she got from Lapis’ little tantrums, the numerous times she’d been locked out of their apartment during thunderstorms because Lapis was having a mood, after all the hospital trips... She didn’t buy it for a second when Lapis said she was trying to change. Sure, she’d given the bluenette just as many beatings and hospital trips, but, she wasn’t the one who started the violence that made up their relationship.

“And you really expect me to believe that?” Jasper asked, “The moment you get her in your claws, you’re going to do exactly the same thing to her as you did to me; take everything out on her.”

“No. I’m not,” Lapis argued and then took a step forward, fists shaking even harder, nails digging in so deep that beads of blood started forming on her palms, “And where do you get off?! Huh?! You’re no fucking angel here!” she snarled. It was a good thing that there weren’t any teachers of students around to watch. She wanted to hit Jasper, so badly, oh so badly. But, if she did, Jasper would win.

Win what? What was she even trying to prove? That she was a better person since they’d broken up, right?

Was she really?

As though sensing the doubt that had begun bubbling up, Jasper snatched Lapis by the wrist and tugged her forward, “We don’t need to change,” she changed her approach, “You’re never going to change, neither am I. Then shouldn’t we just go back to how it was, you can hurt me to your heart’s content and not worry about ever laying a scratch on Peridot because you were having a bad day!”

It was tempting. Lapis couldn’t deny that it had always been tempting to go back to Jasper. What they had wasn’t healthy, constantly abusing each other, but, they only ever hurt each other and no one else.

She shook her head and ripped her arm free, “No,” Lapis spat, “I’m not like you.” She took a few steps back from the Amazonian woman, “I’m a better person, I’m not going down that road ever again. So, just stay out of my life, and keep your nose out of my and Peridot’s life. She’s nothing to do with you.”

She turned on her heel and stormed off, away from Jasper. To get as far from Jasper as she could. Lapis wasn’t a monster, she was never going to be a monster again, Jasper was wrong. That’s why she needed Peridot. The girl helped her feel like she was right.

Jasper growled as she watched Lapis go, and after a few minutes she turned and walked the other direction. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the weight room where Peridot was waiting anxiously, fingers digging into her pants as she perked her head up at Jaspers arrival.

The gym teacher took another breath, in and then slowly out as she made her way to Peridot. “Runt, there’s something we need to talk about.”

#TMIB #The Moon is Beautiful #Lapidot #Cam wr

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