#i'm so ready to get to my new job and life to calm down already
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trying to work on this chapter when i just want to get to the REALLY FUN CHAPTER
#crying sobbing writer's block has left me in shambles#TBH I JUST WANNA SKIP THIS CHAPTER#AND GET TO THE ONE SCENE I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT FOR OVER A YEAR!!!! !!#i'm so ready to get to my new job and life to calm down already#so i can get back to torturing Leo and his brothers PLEASE#pastel prattling#please muse where did you go come back to me#THE STARS ARE NOT ALIGNED AND I'M DYING
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reporting live, paige bueckers
— synopsis. you meet paige when you’re assigned to report on the uconn v. iowa game. twoshot!
notes ౨ৎ: i’ve never wrote for a real person before it feels so strange…but there’s like no fics on here i had to take matters into my own hands.
also yes im rewriting history to make uconn win!
next ౨ৎ
you checked yourself out in the mirror, fixing your outfit - low rise black work pants with a white button down that showed a small sliver of your stomach with black sling back heels.
you tossed your hair around to fix it making sure it was in perfect shape. after all, your job was pretty dependent on looks.
you worked as a reporter for the city's top news agency and tonight you would be attending the uconn versus iowa women's basketball game.
you were also pretty active on social media and managed to make some money that way, you were more than grateful for your lifestyle.
you called your friend, devon , to make sure she was on her way to get you knowing you absolutely could not be late tonight.
she answered the phone and you sighed a breath of relief when it sounded like she was in fact on her way.
"hey girll, are you excited for tonight? pretty big story" she said, bustling city noise behind her.
"yeah i'm excited to interview uconn after they beat iowa's ass" you smirked when you heard her gasp on the other side. "they so will not! my girlfriend caitlin's gonna pull through"
"nah, paige buckets got that easily" you scoffed as you packed your bag, ready to head downstairs out of your apartment.
your bosses had assigned you to tonight's game and hooked you up with two court-side tickets for you and a guest, along with the camera crew.
you of course had to invite your best friend to go with you.
you stepped outside the building and watched as her car pulled up outside.
"ugh i can't believe i get to see caitlin clark up close" devon squealed as you got yourself situated in the car. "ugh be calm, you literally have a boyfriend." you joked. "okay and?" she laughed as she drove off.
once you were at the stadium, you and devon met at with your crew as you found your seats inside.
the game wasn't due to start for another fourty or so minutes but it was already packed inside.
you were glad women's basketball was finally getting the recognition it deserved after you and your mom had been fans of it almost your whole life. you even played a little bit in high school.
you and devon got snacks before sitting down and getting yourselves comfortable.
it didn't feel long until the players came out and the game was started. aliyah and hailey jump started the game before kk threw the ball back at paige.
the game was a close one and you made sure to follow it closely. throughout the game you did side interviews with other players and people attending the game, which was all just leading up to the end of game interviews.
it was the final quarter and you made sure to pay close attention.
it all came down to the last few seconds when paige threw the ball off caitlin's back to catch it again and land the ball in the net, giving uconn the winning score!
you and your crew sat up as you turned your reporter accent on "there you have it folks, uconn has won this round and will advance to the final game against south carolina. what an amazing job tonight by these wonderful ladies on both teams. win or lose, it was a great watch and i'm cheering for everyone's next move."
once you were sure the cameras were off you turned around to devon and threw your hands in the air.
"bitch i told you! i tolddd you paige had this game" you squealed. "ughhh you're so annoying why are you always right" she groaned.
a few minutes later you popped some mouthwash melts and fixed your makeup before you were to interview paige.
your hands were sweating like crazy. you never wanted to come off as an insane fan girl but you were obsessed with paige.
your cameraman followed you as you walked over to paige and she turned around. "hi" she smiled and shook your hand. "hi, are you ready?" you asked her. "yeah" she smiled. you gave your cameraman a thumbs up as he turned the camera on.
you turned to paige, who was already staring at you and you took a deep breath. you're usually never nervous to interview people but god the way she was looking at you.
her eyes were trained on yours and she had a little smirk on her face, her face was glistening from the tiring game she just played and she licked her lips waiting for you to ask your first question.
you cleared your throat "i'm here with paige bueckers, who just made the winning move in the highly anticipated iowa versus uconn game! tell me paige, how did it feel to take the winning shot?" you turned the microphone to her.
she rubbed her chin "ah it was really nerve racking to be honest i mean. i could feel my team counting on me and i knew i really had to pull through and get us out on top" she answered, eyes focusing back on you.
"yeah but that was a tough shot wasn't it?" you watched her eyes drop down to scan you before meeting yours again. "yeah but i knew i could make it in for sure"
"right, bueckers get buckets i don't know what to tell y'all" you joked to the camera. paige laughed.
"yeah for sure but i really owe it all to my team" she continued before kk came up behind her. "yupppppp WE GOING TO THE TITLE GAME" she threw her arms around you and paige and the threw of you jumped in excitement before running to find her other teammates.
you laughed it off before continuing for the camera "well there you have it, paige it was lovely to talk to you. congratulations on the winning game! make sure those of you at home tune in to the final game taking place in just a few days." you signed off the camera before your crew stopped filming.
you turned to paige and dropped the reporter voice. "it was nice to meet you by the way" you smiled. "i could say the same" her eyes never left yours and you bit your cheek to hide a smile.
"well i should let you go celebrate, congratulations, have a good night!" you said, beginning to walk away.
"bye it was nice to meet you" she said before you fully walked away.
you walked over to devon who was waiting on the side. "i know damn well your heart is racing"
"shut up" you smirked.
#nia writes ࿐#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige buckets#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#nika muhl#kk arnold#bueckers get buckets
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8. a cry of my heart to see
Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: Tragedy strikes Jackson
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: blood, medical care (probably bad I'm not a doctor tried to keep it brief and vague), Character Death, loss, grief, funeral, smut, P I V, cream pie, Oral sex (F receiving)
Notes: Shout out to my girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for the beta read!
If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!
Words: 3273
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.
One Year Later
He’s been out on patrol for days. They’re widening the perimeter and he’s on the initial team to do so. It’s nerve-wracking. You’re losing sleep.
Maria tries to assure you they’re fine. No news is good news, but it falls on deaf ears. Her husband isn’t out there in unexplored areas. Joel is. Tommy tries to hide his worry. Despite both their assurances, you know they’re concerned. It’s risky.
For the most part, life goes on. Ellie has been staying in your guest room since Joel left. You thought she would look forward to having the house to herself, not that Joel doesn’t already spend the majority of nights at your house. You wonder if she fears the same thing you do.
They’re supposed to be back in a week, but day 8 passes without sign of them.
On the ninth day, one of the gate watchmen barrels into the clinic, causing you to knock over an entire bin of instruments you had just boiled. His eyes are wide, skin pale causing your stomach to drop.
“What is it?”
“We just spotted them about a mile out. They’re down a rider. Another looks pretty banged up, can barely sit up in the saddle.”
"Who?” You fight the urge to vomit.
“We don’t know.”
“Go get Pooley.” The panic is setting in. You can’t do this. You can’t go into concerned girlfriend mode. Is that what you are? It doesn’t sound quite right. No, you need to be the medical professional you were taught to be. Calm, cool, collected like the professional you were on the UT Trauma team.
The man nods, rushing out of the clinic. You look around, pulling out everything you might need for easy access. You don’t know if he was mulled or shot or something else. This is hardly the first time something like this happened, but it’s the first time you haven’t been able to focus.
It’s silly in hindsight, but you never worried quite like this over Gabe. He always promised to come back. He seemed so confident that he would that you’d bought into his confidence, and he always did until he didn’t.
Once you’re convinced you’re set up enough to take care of the incoming injured, your feet carry you out toward the gate. It’s beautiful out today. The sun shines. Birds chirp and bees buzz. The kids play tag in the apple orchard, but it all feels like a bad dream like the world is moving in slow motion. There’s a ringing in your ears.
The gate is just opening as the group draws closer. A small crowd has already formed, mostly the families of those sent out. You’re too far away to see out of the gate so you have to wait for them to file in.
The first rider comes in. It’s not Joel. You can feel your grip on reality fading. You’re trying to stay. You have a job to do. Maria appears next to you as the second rider crosses in. She tugs you closer to the chaos, through the families waiting with bated breath. Two more. Not Joel. She brings you next to Dr. Pooley who waits ready to spring into action. People make room around you so you can tend to the injured as soon as they come in.
Another pair cross into safety. John Lacy holds the reins of Adam Perkin’s horse as Adam hunches over in the saddle looking closer to death than life. John has them next to you within seconds, spewing the story of his injury to you and the doctor. You can’t pay attention, going on your tiptoes to catch sight of the last rider, but the horses block your view. The gate is closing now.
“Maria?” You look at her in desperation, pulled between the need to help and get status on Joel.
She gives you a nod and dashes off to investigate further.
Adam half rolls out of the saddle, in and out of consciousness before several strong sets of arms aid him to the ground.
“Someone get the gurney!” A voice calls out as you fall to your knees beside the man. It’s your voice. Your body is taking over, but your brain is still elsewhere. The ringing in your ears grows louder. “Someone tell me what we’re looking at!” Your shaking hands rip the stained flannel and undershirt. They're already rags anyway.
“Took a knife to the gut two days ago. Closed it up but it got infected and reopened on the way back,” John reports.
“And you didn’t stop to close it back up?” You yell.
“We had to drop the med bag.”
You groan in frustration. Dr. Pooley takes vital signs. Even in the haze you notice the signs that he’s over concentrating. His lips move to count Adams BPM and then he stops and starts over.
“What do you have for me, Doc?” You’re desperate for help. Desperate for the old man to be able to do his job, but you see it in his face. He’s about to admit what you’ve assumed for months.
“I don’t know,” he looks as lost as you feel right now, drowning in the panic of his own mortality. His own brain ceasing to work. You’ve seen the signs of dementia for months, and now the moment you need his help the most, he can’t think straight. You need his brain. You need to talk through this.
“Gurney!” Someone yells, pushing toward you with the homemade gurney. It’s more of a litter you’d find in a medieval era movie, but it does the trick.
They slam it to the ground, you don’t even have to let out the instructions before someone is counting and Adam is moved onto the stretcher. “Carefully!” You keep pressure on his wound, it’s definitely bleeding again. They must’ve missed something or it’s been bleeding internally all this time. Damnit!
You’re almost to the clinic when you hear it, a life preserver in the raging ocean, Ellie’s voice. “JOEL!”
You turn to see her arms wrapped around his midsection, holding her as tight as she does to him. His eyes flicker to yours, and it’s like you snap back into your body with a thud, your mind crisp and clear. He smiles weakly your way and you can breathe again.
You’re not sure how long it takes you. You’re pretty sure you’ve technically just performed a surgery you were in the room for once as a nurse 22 years ago. You probably missed most of the steps, but you know it was Adam’s only hope. Joyce Dobbins comes in with a poultice that’s supposed to help fight infection and “doctors him right up” as she likes to say. You don’t know enough to have an opinion. She’s the herbalist.
You shower at the clinic, bones weary and eyelids drooping. Joyce knows enough to monitor him over night as does Rachel, Adam’s wife.
You stumble home, the days events replaying on repeat in your head. The multiple times you thought you were going to lose Adam yet he somehow never faded. Lindsey’s never ending sobs from the backroom as she mourned Paul, you delivered their baby three years ago. Joel standing there giving you exactly what you needed so you could save a friend.
Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore the dangers of the outside world while tucked within the walls of Jackson, your slice of normal in the world. Tonight is not one of them.
You stumble up the porch stairs, anything but graceful as you cross the threshold. The house is quiet- no, peaceful. It’s an odd feeling compared to your raging mind. The house is clean, spotless. The orange glow of your living room lamp and the kitchen light warm you. Rumours spins in the corner, halfway through Songbird. You catch Joel in the kitchen wiping down the countertops. Your tea kettle whistles softly as he turns off the gas stove.
“Joel…” your voice is hoarse. He spins around. He doesn’t smile, only walks toward you, pulling your limp frame into his as soon as he can. “I missed you,” you whisper.
“I missed you too, Sweetheart.” His face burrows into the crook of your neck.
“I thought…” you can’t finish the sentence without tears falling down your cheeks. He rocks you both softly.
“Shhh, I know. I know.”
He kisses your head softly and then your lips. As much as you want to fall into bed, he forces you to eat something, drink the tea he’s brewed for you. You can barely sit upright, but you eat and drink and finally, he guides you upstairs, tucks you into bed, and curls up behind you. You fall asleep before he starts whispering sweet reassurances in your ear.
You pull yourself out of bed earlier than you should. You have to go check in on Adam at the clinic. No news is good news. Anytime you’re not dragged out of bed after a day like yesterday, it’s a good thing.
He’s not conscious but his fever is lower than it was when you left and that eases your worries some. Rachel doesn’t leave his bedside.
Lindsey is in the backroom as they re- wrap Paul’s body. They’ll bury him today. He’s already been dead for three days. You take Lindsey’s hand without a word, standing solemn next to her.
A hot tear marks your cheek as you watch Maria and Joyce diligently work. You were never awarded this luxury, could never gaze upon Gabe’s face one last time. Didn’t get to say goodbye.
He has a tombstone in the cemetery. You don’t visit it often. He’s not there, his ashes spread to the wind now, rolling over the earth like invisible tumbleweeds. He probably likes that better anyway.
The funeral is short, but all of Jackson crowds around for the service, to bury their fallen friend. Joel holds you close, arm wrapped around your waist. You lean heavy against him, gaining all your support from his frame. Carter and Ellie sit on the ground in front of you.
When it’s time to lower Paul into the ground, Joel makes sure you’re steady on your feet before joining the rest of the patrol group. Adam is still unconscious in the clinic. They lower his body to the ground with precision that is too practiced. You wonder if he’s thinking of her, how he had to leave her body behind. He calls out her name at night sometimes. You know he’s reliving the night Sarah died.
Lindsey’s cries start to pick up again. You slide onto the bench beside her, squeezing her hand tightly. Grace sits opposite you and Elaine stands behind. You don’t know Lindsey that well, but she’s joined your ranks now. Other women who have lost spouses close in around the grieving woman, a moment of solidarity. It’s a group that’s too large for your liking, too many lives taken.
Joel holds your hand on the walk home. You keep walking, taking your path earlier than normal. You don’t speak, too many memories in your mind, too many emotions flooding your heart.
You stop in at the clinic. Adam is in and out of consciousness. Joyce is giving him something for the pain.
You cut your walk short, just one lap tonight. There’s a note on the door. Carter is at Maria and Tommy’s for a sleepover. You sigh in relief, thankful to not have to worry about another human being tonight.
Joel helps you out of your shoes. He helps you upstairs. His hands move slowly over you, half roaming, half massaging your weary muscles. He follows your collarbone and shucks the cardigan from your shoulders, frees you from your jeans leaving you in nothing but a tank top. It’s one of the few times his eyes don’t immediately land on your exposed crotch. He can’t help but chuckle at your commitment to not wearing underwear.
Fingers delve into your tight calves. You let out a soft moan as you fall back into the mattress, sheets cool against your skin.
Your eyes close, relishing in the feeling of him. This is the first real chance you’ve had to spend together since he got back. There’s nothing inherently sensual to his movements and the way he touches you, but your body heats in response, craving the connection, the assurance.
The air shifts as your breath hitches. His fingers crawl up your legs leaving tiny trails of fire as he presses a kiss to each of your calves. Desire begins to burn in your body, slow and hot. “Joel…” You moan, legs falling open.
“I know, Sweetheart,” He feels it too, voice low and thick as his eyes darken. “I know.”
Your hands tangle in his curls as he takes his time covering your thighs in kisses, swiping his tongue over your skin from time to time. “I’m here,” he says again. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
There’s no rush to the finish line, neither of you have the energy for that tonight. It’s slow, languid like a hike up a steep cliff as his mouth slowly greets your slick cunt, his tongue runs through your folds at a steady pace over and over and over and over. He’s pulling you closer to the edge, taking his time until finally, you cry out arching into his mouth, spilling more of yourself onto his tongue.
He pulls away, chin glistening in your soft bedroom light, proud smile on his lips. “That’s my girl.”
You whimper in response, hands traveling up his forearms. His calloused palms roam over your thighs and hip, fingers drawing soft patterns across your skin.
Leading with his lips, he makes his way up your sternum. Not a drop of urgency in his body, he eases up your tank top. It’s like he has all the time in the world. You wish for all the time in the world as long as you get to spend it with him.
Finally, his lips meet yours. You taste yourself on his lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands wander his shoulder and neck, your fingers glide through his hair again. Nails rake down his back. At some point he shed his shirt and pants, leaving him bare against you.
“Lay on your back,” you say.
He pulls back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What are you thinking about?”
“Having you on your back.”
He chuckles, warm arms wrapping around your middle as he rolls over. You brace yourself on your knees. His hard cock presses against your thigh. You run it through your folds. Joel lets out a soft moan as his eyes glaze with lust. “Fuck, Sweetheart. Let me in there.”
“Patience,” you chide, but have no intention of keeping him waiting for long.
You nudge his dick against your clit, sending sparks through your veins until you center your opening over him. He holds your hips as you slowly sink onto him. You stretch around him, filling you so completely. Once you’ve taken him to the hilt, you sit there, eyes focused on each other exchanging soft pants.
Your cunt clenches around him, pulling moans from both of you, but you don’t move, hands finding purchase against his soft stomach, thumb running through his dark happy trail. The two of you bask in the feeling of your skin against the other’s, desperate for the certainty that you’re alive and breathing, that the blur you’re living in is reality and you still have each other.
He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your teeth scrape against it. Then you lift up just a little bit, keeping him mostly inside you before you sink back down. You keep the slow pace as you ease up and down, increasing the distance a little more each time.
Joel’s eyes never move from you, sometimes meeting yours and other times appreciating your naked form above him. His hand trails down your torso, finding the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit with the precision only granted by his familiarity with your body. He has you memorized, every single inch of you.
You let out a sharp gasp when he touches you. He holds his thumb steady against you, letting your movements drag his thumb across your clit. You clench around him and he groans. Up and down, your hands perched on his hairy chest, nails biting into his pecs.
As you draw nearer to the peak, Joel starts to meet you, hitting a different angle inside of you. You let out a long moan, head tipping backward. Then you reach the crest, cunt milking his cock, coming undone on top of him.
Sweat beads along Joel's forehead as your dripping pussy flutters around him. He’s not far behind you, filling you with his spend. The feel of him inside you, coating you, causes another breathy moan to leave your lips.
“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He pants, pulling you down beside him, sweaty skin flush against his.
You smile softly at him, brushing the curl in front of his forehead back. He kisses your palm. You should feel guilty for enjoying Joel’s comforts, his warm skin against yours when Lindsey lays in an empty bed across the way, but all you feel is relief. You’re grateful to be spared heartache for once.
Eventually, Joel rolls out of bed, returning with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess he left behind. You’ve pulled on his white tshirt. You don’t say a word, just stare at him in the lamp light. He’s beautiful, a gentle giant, and he’s yours.
When he crawls back beside you, he looks at you like he reads every thought in your mind, kisses your forehead, and turns out the lamp. You turn on your side. He spoons you, arm thrown over your waist.
His soft snores start to play in your ears. The crease in his forehead is nonexistent with sleep as you look over your shoulder. Then, it hits you. You’re happy here with him despite the last 48 hours. It feels wrong, like you cheated death. You just hope it doesn’t come back to collect double, but you’re so damn happy. Joel Miller has permeated every single fiber of your being.
You’ve known this, but now, you accept it. Your muscles tense with it. It’s not enough to send you spiraling by any means, but you fought it for so long, you’re not sure how to proceed. You could tell him now, wake him up and finally let the words slip off your tongue. More tension gathers between your shoulders.
Joel mumbles, tightening his grip around you as he pulls you flush against him. He kisses your shoulder.
“Don’t start with that.” Sleep coats his voice. You wonder how he’s so in tune with you even in sleep he can feel the tension.
“Don’t think it works like that.”
He hums, squeezing you again. His lips press between your shoulder blades, beard brushing against your skin sweeping the tension away, pulling the thoughts from your head.
He chuckles as you sink into him. “You sure about that.”
You reach behind you. Your nails rake over his thigh, just above his knee until you find your target. You pluck one of his leg hairs with a practiced precision.
“Ow! Not nice!”
You laugh, burrowing into your pillow. “Go to sleep, old man.”
“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, holding you so close your brain can’t think of anything but his solid frame at your back.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel tlou#the last of us#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller hbo#tlou#pedro stories#pedrostories#woman (joel's version)#woman (joel miller)
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I had a dumb idea that I wanted to ask, how would Ken and Barbie react to a new Ken who's supposed to be a superhero (K man or something) thing is there's no criminals or supervillains in barbie land to fight so for most of the time their either crouching over buildings overdramatically monologuing their thoughts/past or hiding in their not so secret base
The "overdramatic monologue" is giving ATSV!Ben Riley hsahggs
.........
Ken
You're a new Ken doll who was meant to be a superhero (and you were an instant hit with the kids back in the Real World).
But Beach!Ken thought you were just another rival trying to compete for Stereo!Barbie's attention, especially when you have such a cool costume and look badass 24/7.
So he's got his eye on you.
Yet you don't really have a Barbie and you're certainly not trying to get anybody else's Barbie.
You're just Ken-Man (or Super Ken, K-Man, or whatever Mattel decided to call your alias), the lone savior, protector, and guardian of Barbieland.
Except..there's not really much for you to save, protect, or guard in the first place.
Barbieland's more or less a utopia. There's no supervillains or an archnemesis for you to fight, nor is there any crime.
So when Ken's standing alone on the beach one night, he spots you crouching on the ledge of one of the buildings, and he can see you looking around.
He goes closer for curiosity's sake (and to distract himself bc he's bummed out he couldn't stay at Barbie's dreamhouse), and hears you monologuing.
"Just another windy night in Barbieland..it's cool, refreshing, and calming. It's like my conscience in a way. It's at peace knowing that I've kept this city safe once again. I hope every Barbie, Ken, and everydoll in-between sleeps soundly-"
"What are you doing up there, Ken?"
When you see Beach!Ken staring up at you, you jump down and land (to which he jumps back, surprised you didn't break a leg), thrilled that some doll finally approached you.
"Ah! You caught me monologuing."
"Mono...what?" He blinks, dumbfounded.
"Just spilling my thoughts, dear citizen. Nothing to worry about." You smile brightly behind your mask, although you see that he looks annoyed. "What troubles you on this quiet night, Ken?"
"Oh nothing. I'm just mad that Ken kept trying to show off and dance with Barbie at her party tonight. He did backflips in front of her! It's not fair, why can't I do that??"
"Ohhh you mean this?" You perform a single backflip, but he glares at you, ready to snap.
"I wanna know how to do that. Teach me."
"Wait...didn't you injure yourself when you tried to go surfing earlier today?"
"...you saw that?"
"Of course. I see everything from my not-so-secret base."
"....AND you have a house?!!!" He screams, causing you to take a step back.
But you quickly realize he's just insecure and thinks he pales in comparison to the other Kens when trying to impress his Barbie.
And you having a cooler job than "Beach" certainly doesn't help matters...
You're a compassionate hero, though, looking to see past his initial hostility and offer to train him on doing backflips, front flips, etc.
He gets cocky and it...doesn't go so well as he slips on a rock and faceplants onto the pavement (luckily he doesn't break anything this time).
Instead you take him to your not-so-secret base to train in a safe environment, and he gets better with practice.
He's very jealous of all the cool tech you have (including a security robot who's similar to Closet from Life in the Dreamhouse, except not hostile at all) and you gotta refrain him from touching anything.
Once he realizes you're not trying to impress his Barbie, he becomes buddies with you--though you treat him more like a sidekick.
Barbie
"Hello, Barbie!"
"Oh hi, Ken!"
She's seen you around Barbieland a lot, especially in the late hours of the night.
You're one of the coolest Kens she's seen, although she's surprised there wasn't some superheroine Barbie already around (or maybe there was...she doesn't know for sure, but it doesn't matter).
While she doesn't fully understand your monologues regarding your past (whether it's about being responsible with your "powers" or whatever origin story Mattel decided to cook up for your character), she finds your words admirable, your deeds heroic, and your personality charming.
When she's on the beach or taking an evening drive, she'll often look for you on the rooftops and wave.
You always wave back, of course.
But immediately lose your train of thought if you were monologuing at the time.
That's okay though, bc you had an oath to keep Barbieland crime-free (and not waving back to a Barbie was something only a criminal scumbag would do).
Even though this place lacks criminal activity and supervillains, you do often help citizens with mundane troubles.
Some call upon your aid and you're there instantly.
Plus, you have a "super sense" that alerts you to imminent danger, allowing you to arrive just in time.
For instance, when Barbie falls from her dreamhouse instead of floating down, you suddenly swooped in to save her before she could hit the ground.
"Are you okay, Barbie??" You worry, having never seen her fall before.
It's not the first time you've ever seen a doll fall, however.
"I-I....yeah, Ken! I'm fine! I'm great!!" She's embarrassed that you saw her at such an "imperfect" moment, stumbling out of your arms. "Thanks for saving me."
"Of course, it's my job to protect all of you." You smile.
Although after she leaves in her car, you frown a bit, worried that she's in more trouble than she's willing to admit..
Maybe you oughta report to Weird Barbie.
#clanask#anonymous#barbie x reader#barbie movie x reader#ken x reader#male reader#doll reader#superhero reader#headcanons#platonic
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You know, I still want an AU where Mebuki and Kizashi become the team parents for team 7. I have only found one so far and that's Rays of Spring Sunshine by sparklyfaerie over on AO3.
So let's add some more to the internet, lets make a childhood friends au for team 7. For shits and giggles we could also potentially add Sand Cousins to this AU later, also Merchant Haruno clan. (For those wondering what those are here's a link or two or three)
Okay, so here's what I'm thinking. We have merchant Kizashi Haruno who moved to Konoha to help expand business. Mebuki, who was originally from Suna, was a chunin level ninja during the war but retired after and moved with her husband. After the move to Konoha they have Sakura.
Mebuki has gotten a job in the village as a social worker or the equivalent to that. Because of her previously being a shinobi, a lot of her cases are children whose ninja parents died on missions. Most of them being clan kids, it was easy to find new living situations for them with other clan members and then do check ins. A lot of clans already had procedures put in place for this, too. Then, one day, she got her newest cases with a muttered good luck. Mebuki looked them over, Sasuke Uchiha and Naruto Uzumaki. The only survivor of the recently massacred Uchiha clan and the vessel for the nine tailed fox.
Oh dear god, what the hell?! The mom in Mebuki was ready to fist fight someone. What moron deemed it okay to let two little boys who are obviously traumatized live on their own? Nope not on Mebuki's watch.
As the new case worker for each boy, Mebuki does have to go make house calls. She takes Sakura with her, so not only will Mebuki stay calm, with several little eyes watching her, but sometimes having another child there will relax the other, and having them play together gives Mebuki more insight.
"Sakura, be nice to these boys," Mebuki tells her daughter. "Life has not been kind to them, so we must."
The little girl nodded as she followed her mother to the first apartment.
Mebuki almost fainted at the state of the apartment she entered. Does no help this boy clean? Or at least show him how?!
"Are you my new social worker?" Naruto asked, recognizing the symbol on the file in Mebuki's hands.
Mebuki nodded, getting down on the boy's eye level while she talked to him. "Yes, I'm Mebuki Haruno, and this is my daughter Sakura. May we come in?"
The boy was on edge which Mebuki didn't blame him for he has gone through almost as many social workers as he had years on this earth. But after a gentle nudge to her daughter Sakura got him to relax a little. The way he bombarded her daughter proved Meuki's suspicions true, the boy was starved for attention. It was partly why Mebuki brought her along, and her daughter's empathy was sometimes needed to help gaining other children's trust.
Sakura spending time with Naruto also gave Mebuki an insight that this boy was indeed left to fend for himself. Well, she'll have to change that. One of these days later this week, she'll have to come back with Sakura to start teaching Naruto basic life skills. She'll be damned if this boy is only surviving off ramen.
The next stop was Sasuke Uchiha's apartment. This one Mebuki was more hesitant on bringing Sakura to. Trauma and the reaction to it is unpredictable, especially in ones so young. Mental health is also often ignored among shinobi and ninja clans. Mebuki highly doubts Sasuke has received anything in healing besides his physical body.
Unsurprisingly, the boy is angry and demands they go away. Unfortunately, Mebuki is just as if not more stubborn. She's a former shinobi. Does he really think a locked door is gonna stop her?
She makes a deal with Sasuke, if she can get in then he'll work with her since he'll be seeing a lot of her in the next few years. Sasuke snorts but takes the deal thinking she won't get in, after all this women is just a civilian.
30 seconds later, Mebuki Haruno is standing inside his doorway file ready in hand.
Mebuki is right that this visit was completely different from the one she had with Naruto. Sasuke kept his focus on her with maybe one or two glances at her daughter after introductions. Sasuke seemed more interested in getting them out as soon as possible and isolating himself. Well, that won't do either. Mebuki makes a mental note to make frequent visits to Sasuke's place. According to his file, the last social worker didn't even try to help this boy with his isolation issues. Guess Mebuki will have to go the exposure therapy route. Even if it's in small bursts with her or with her and Sakura, the boy needs some sort of human interaction.
Maybe she can get him and Naruto to hang out one day? Though they may need Sakura there to buffer out the two as a middle man.
So Mebuki got to work. The Academy was currently on a break for two weeks, and Kizashi was currently away on business, so all of her visits she did have to bring Sakura. Naruto liked having her around. Sasuke seemed to tolerate it. Naruto eagerly took to learning from her, whether it's because he was learning with Sakura or Mebuki actually took the time to patiently explain things to him, she wasn't sure. She still had to break into Sasuke's apartment every time, but she actually got that boy to go out into the world even if it was just errands. And he's acknowledgumg Sakura more on the visits even sorta speaking to her. So that's a win in her book.
It was during this time that Mebuki learned the boys were actually in the same class as Sakura in the academy. She knew they all went to the academy but not the same class. This info from Sakura and the information on how they're treated helps Mebuki adjust on what she needs to do with the boys.
"Mama, Naruto, and Sasuke are lonely," Sakura stated to her after one of the visits.
Mebuki nodded. Her daughter was sharp minded. It did not surprise Mebuki Sakura picked up on the boys' loneliness.
"I want to help them."
"Continue being kind to them Sakura," Mebuki instructed. "They both need it, and maybe a friend."
When the academy started again, Mebuki wasn't surprised to hear the kids didn't interact much. The classroom and children themselves have their own social rules they tend to follow. Sakura was also friends with Ino Yamanaka, one of the most popular girls in class. So by proxy, Sakura was in the middle of the social circle, too. Sasuke wouldn't dare get close to it, and Naruto wouldn't have the chance.
What did give Mebuki some surprises was her first time checking in on the boys without Sakura. Kizashi had recently returned home and was gone again with Sakura on a daddy daughter weekend trip. Naruto, being disappointed that his new friend was away, didn't surprise Mebuki much. But it did hurt to think he thought it was because Mebuki or Kizashi didn't want her around him. Surprisingly the boy let Mebuki comfort him saying no they weren't forbidding it, this was just a planned trip before Naruto became Sakura's friend.
"Where's Sakura?"
Sasuke's question would have thrown Mebuki off had it not been for her ninja background. But she had seen the boy slowly warming up to her daughter.
"She's with her father right now."
"Hn."
This gives Mebuki an idea. On Friday afternoon, while children were in school, Mebuki had placed a sealing jutsu on the boys' apartments, one that locks them out. She also left a note saying they are to come over for dinner. After she sends Sakura to go get Naruto while she goes get Sasuke, and Kizashi starts on dinner.
Sasuke was glaring at her when she got to his apartment. "How did you do this?"
Mebuki smiled, with that pout he was trying to hide Sasuke almost looked his age. "Just because I retired being a ninja doesn't mean I still don't know how to use jutsu Sasuke. Now come on we have some things to pick up before dinner."
And that's how Friday dinners started, leading to weekend sleepovers after Mebuki and Kizashi insist that it was too late for the boys to be wondering in the dark. Kizashi's jokester nature warmed Naruto up to him fast and she swore she saw Sasuke smirk once or twice at one Kizashi's awful jokes. After a while Mebuki could stop putting the sealing jutsu on the apartments when the boys just started following Sakura home on Fridays but she kinda wants to see who figures out how to break the jutsu first.
They still don't interact unless they have to in the academy but Mebuki is starting to suspect that's more on the boys wanting this friendship to be private. Sasuke is naturally a private person and Mebuki suspects that Naruto is afraid of the public either turning one of his friends away from him or that they'll be ostracized like he was.
Mebuki knows this is technically crossing some professional boundaries but honestly she does not give a damn. And technically they're over at her house as Sakura's friends. Good luck trying to deny these boys one of their only two friends.
Mebuki can do without the pranks though. Naruto may be the only one the village blames for them but she knows better. That is not Naruto's handwriting and Naruto was never that detailed before.
It was around the time of graduation that Mebuki was starting to become a little worried. She was excited for the kids don't get her wrong but the politics of the whole thing was a pain in the ass. Newly graduated genin in Konoha were pretty much considered emancipated minors. Genin who were wards of the state like Naruto and Sasuke would be aged out of their social workers care. They would then be put on teams based on skillset. Mebuki was worried how well that was gonna work out for the children. The only ones she can see them working well with is one another but likely hood of all of them ending up on the same team was not very high.
Well she might as well start preparing. She'll have three jonin showing up soon. One to talk to the parent of Sakura and two to talk to her as the social worker to Naruto and Sasuke.
Mebuki couldn't help the laugh when she learned that all three meetings would be with Kakashi Hatake. Oh is he gonna have his hands full, she hopes her little brats gives him hell.
I'm imagining after the war team 7 stumbles into the Haruno's house at some point because Mebuki put that same damn sealing jutsu on all of their apartments. Mebuki starts chastising Sasuke like "Where. Have. You. Been?!" like he's a teenager who missed curfew and not a wanted missing ninja for the last three years. Later on when Sasuke and Sakura start traveling together Mebuki and Kizashi have a bet on how many grandchildren they'll have by the time they return and what the genders will be.
#someone talk to me about team parents kizashi and mebuki#why give sakura parents if we aren't gonna use them#as always wasted potential kishimoto#naruto#team 7#naruto uzumaki#sasuke uchiha#sakura haruno#kizashi haruno#mebuki haruno#childhood friends au#slight sasusaku#naruto team 7
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Heya hope you're having a good day/night ^^ if you're requests are still open I had a rottmnt Leo x reader fanfic idea. (No pressure to accept this request if you don't want to)
Basically the reader is a spider person (fem or gender neutral it's up to you ^^) and Leo has a crush on them. I like the idea that maybe they cross paths when fighting a villian. Sorry if that's too unspecific.
ugh. holy moly
for some reason I really struggled with this one. there are many things I could say about this but I'm just going to leave it here for you. hope it doesn't suck
(the title is supposed to be joke about how spider people get their superpowers hahahaha I'm so funny)
Love at First Bite
rise leo x reader
tw: mid writing
word count: 2816
Leo was racing to the scene of the crime. He had only gotten the call a minute ago, and he was thankfully ready, already on patrol. As he turned the corner, he saw the culprit. Him again. Leo didn’t want to have to deal with this guy again…but maybe he didn’t have to? It appeared that someone had arrived before him…but who? He couldn’t recognize them, he didn’t think it was anyone he knew. But if they were here, they must be some sort of superhero, and he knew every superhero there was in New York. And your fighting style…so eloquent, like nothing he’d ever seen before. He had to know who you were.
He jumped to your side to help you take down the villain. As the police arrived on the scene to apprehend the villain, Leo walked over to where you were.
“That’s quite the skill set you’ve got on you, stranger. I’m Leonardo, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to shake.
“Oh, thank you,” you replied, a bit out of breath. “I could say the same to you. I’m y/n.”
“Well, y/n, you’re looking at the greatest ninja on this side of New York. And the other side too. Now, see, I know every superhero there is in New York, but I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”
“Oh, you could say I’m new here. I moved here about a month ago, but this is one of my first missions here.”
“I see. Well, y/n, welcome to New York. I’ve lived here my entire life, so I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“Thank you, and yeah, I could imagine you do.”
“You know, that’s quite the costume you’ve got there. It’s like…a spider?”
“Yeah, that’s supposed to be the theme.”
“Okay, interesting. Any particular reason?”
“Well, not much, it’s just kind of the theme of my organization.”
“Ah, okay. Cool beans.”
“For sure. Well, I’ll be off now, I have to head back. See you around, Leonardo.”
“See you around, y/n. Just remember me if you ever need help!” He said, waving to you from afar. He heard you laugh as you walked away.
A new hero, huh? He was certainly going to have to get to know you now. If he didn’t know you, how could he even consider himself the greatest ninja ever? Like he said, he knew every superhero in New York. Besides, there was just something about you…but he couldn’t quite place it. But, he had realized he didn’t know when he would actually see you again. He would just have to hope he could meet you…
“Donnie! I need your help!” Leo called to Donnie as he entered the lair. “I’m being for real this time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. What is it you need?”
“This may sound like a strange request, but I need you to do a bit of…non-malicious stalking for me.”
“Oh, my dearest brother, you came to the right person. You have no idea how excited I am to do this for you. And you ask me this like you don’t know I place trackers on you all.”
“I always forget about those. Anyway, you can do this for me? Great.”
“Now, brother, who, perhaps, might we be stalking?”
Leo explained his situation, how he had met you, how you had just moved to New York.
“And I need to get to know them…I know everyone, all the superheroes in New York. It’s part of my job as the greatest ninja in New York.”
“Well, you are indeed the face man. I’ll see what I can do. Give me say, an hour?”
“Okay, I’ll be back here then.”
Leo acted calm while talking to Donnie, but in reality, he was a little nervous. He hadn’t quite realized, but he was becoming very focused on this. A little too focused, maybe. He sat in his room, waiting, staring at the clock. 10 minutes, then 20, then 30. He was so focused on the clock, he hadn’t even noticed that Donnie was in his doorway.
“Leo…?”
“Yeah? Wait- Donnie? What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same question. You’re staring at the clock, and it looks rather unsettling.”
“Well, I was just, you know, waiting for you to finish up. Anyways, what are you doing here? Did you finish?”
“Well, I had to use the restroom, so I got up to do so…have you been sitting here looking at the clock the whole time?”
“Uhh…yeah, I guess.”
“Right, because that’s a normal thing to do. Is something the matter?”
“I think I’m just…a little too fixated on this, I think. I probably just need to take my mind off of this.”
“Why don’t you do that, hm? I’m going to try and finish this up.”
Leo left his room to find Mikey or Raph. It didn’t matter to him, he just needed to get his mind off of things.
Donnie came to find Leo a short time later. He informed Leo he had found the information he wanted.
“So, they moved here from Arizona, it seems. They have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”
“Okay, okay. What else?”
“Well, as for their interests, those include video games, stargazing, reading, among other things.”
“Hmm, okay…thank you. Although one more thing, did you happen to notice any spots they liked to hang out?”
“Uh…they posted a lot of pictures of them at the park. You could try there.”
Leo nodded and thanked Donnie before heading off to the park.
“Wait, Leo, do you even know exactly who you’re- Oh, he’s gone. Well, I don’t even know what his plan is at this point.”
Leo rushed off to the park to find you. He made an effort to look everywhere he could think, all the popular spots and the hidden ones, too. It was a fairly big park, so he had plenty of spots to look. Nothing here, nothing there. All the while, you had indeed been at the park. Every so often, you thought you saw a quick flash of blue out of the corner of your eye.
“Man…I must be seeing things.”
Leo kept looking, but he couldn't find you. After all, he didn’t know what you looked like under the mask. He would just have to hope he ran into you. But he wouldn’t have to wait long. Before he could search every corner of the park, a huge crash came from a couple blocks away, followed by screaming. Leo stopped immediately.
“Woah, we got a problem.”
Leo pulled out his communicator and called his brothers to the scene. At the same time, unknown to him, you pulled down your mask, hearing the commotion and getting ready for action.
All of you rushed over as fast as you could. As Leo met up with brothers, he was unaware that you were shortly behind you. Leo and his brothers started to fight, and to his surprise you joined them.
“Oh, it’s Leonardo! And…some other heroes? I guess I’ll find out in a second.”
Mikey and Raph noticed you first.
“Who is that? Never seen them before.”
“Me neither, but it looks like they’re on our side. So fight now, talk later.”
Leo heard them and looked around, finally finding you.
“Guys, it’s them!”
“Who is “them”?”
“I’ll explain in a second, I’m a little busy here.”
Leonardo, along with you and his brothers, eventually stopped the ruckus, and was able to finally talk to you again.
“Hi y/n! Fancy meeting you here again.” Leo was breathing quickly, trying to catch his breath after the fight.
“Yeah…who are they?” You said, looking over at his brothers.
“Those are my brothers. Let me introduce you. This is Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello.”
“Hi, I’m y/n, as you may have already guessed.” Mikey was the first to speak up.
“Hello! So, how do you know Leo?”
“Well, we met not too long ago. Only once though, I had to leave before we could really get to know each other too much. All I know about him is that he’s a fellow superhero, and the greatest ninja in New York.”
“You know it!”
Leo talked for a while longer with you, getting to know you. Thanks to all the info Donnie gathered, Leo was able to hit it off with you. His brother stood behind him while he talked, occasionally chiming into the conversation. But in the meantime, Mikey and Raph started their own conversation.
“You know…I think Leo might have a little thing for y/n…if you know what I mean.”
“Omigosh, you’re so right!”
“Hey, chill. Don’t want ‘em hearing us.”
“Right, right, sorry. But that’s so adorable. I think they would make a good couple. But also it’s a little early to say, they only just met. But Leo totally has a thing for them.”
Leo kept talking with you, as his brothers stood behind him.Donnie left after some time, realizing he was no longer needed in this conversation. Mikey and Raph followed suit shortly after, and it was just Leo and you.
“Well, now that it’s just us…wanna go have some fun?”
“Ew, gross, no.”
“Chill, not like that. You have such a dirty mind.” he said while smirking.
“You’re stupid, you know that?”
“I get that a lot. Anyway, do you actually want to go do something?”
“Maybe. If I can get over your sense of humor.”
“Fine, I’m sorry. Really. Does that help?”
“I guess. But, there was this one place I wanted to check out…”
“Oh? Would you mind if I joined you on this little excursion?”
“Promise me no more of those jokes, and I’ll allow it.”
“Okay, okay. But I can’t promise I’ll stop all of my jokes.”
“Well, if you are joining me, I hope you’re hungry.”
Leo was led to a new restaurant, which he had never seen before. On the way there, he was becoming a little suspicious, as the area he was being led through was an area known for high amounts of crime. But when he got there, he was in awe. He never knew about this, so how did you? Every moment he spent with you, he was becoming more amazed. He…he could almost say he loved you. But he just met you, it wasn’t anything serious. So it couldn’t be love…right?
“Come on, Leonardo. Let’s go in.”
Right. Focus on what’s happening right now.
“O-okay, coming.”
Leo followed you into the restaurant. As he looked around, he took in everything. It was definitely a nicer restaurant. The atmosphere was very calm, but also busy.
“Woah…nice place. You’ve never been here?”
“Nope, first time.”
“Hello, have you two been helped yet?”
“No, we just arrived.”
“Ah, okay. If it’s just the two of you, we have a table open right this way. Follow me.”
You and Leo followed the waiter to a table in the back. As you sat down, he handed you some menus to choose from.
“Take your time. I’ll have someone sent out in a minute to check up.”
“Thank you. Good thing I have my wallet on me, I would hate to have to make you pay. Let’s see what we have to eat…”
“Yeah, this place is a little pricey. But I’ve heard it’s really good, and worth the price.”
“It better be…ooh, they have pizza? You already know I’m ordering that.”
“Pizza? I mean, sure.”
“Pizza’s my all time favorite. If it’s on the menu, I’m gonna order it.”
“Be my guest. I’m just gonna get the chicken sandwich.”
Another waiter walked up to the table.
“Hi, I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Are we ready to order?”
You and Leo ordered food, and after a bit more waiting, the food came and you began to eat.
“Mmm…this is so good. I might have to bring my brothers here sometime, they would love this place.”
“They are also big pizza fans, I assume?”
“Oh yeah, absolutely.”
“Your brothers seemed pretty nice.”
“Eh, they can be a little annoying at times…but we’ve been through a lot together. I love them very dearly.”
“Yeah…must be nice. I didn’t get along too well with my siblings, and I had to move away from my family when I took up this position.”
“Oh…that must have been hard.”
“It was…but I got over it. I’d rather not think about it.”
“Hmm…yeah. Well, I’m done with my food. You wanna head out?”
“Sure. I’ve been done with my food for a while now, anyway.”
You and Leo left the restaurant, thanking the staff on the way out. Leo decided to lead you around New York, showing you all of his favorite spots. All the shortcuts he knew, his favorite hangout spots, good places to eat.
“Wow, you sure know about everything.”
“When you’ve lived here your entire life, it becomes second nature.”
Leo showed you around a few more spots before stopping on top of a building near the edge of the city. It was nearly night time, and the city lights were starting to turn on.
“Wow, the city looks so beautiful at night.” Leo smiled.
“Just one of the cool things about living here. Sometimes I come here alone, when I need to relax.”
“I can see why. It’s very relaxing up here.”
Leo watched as you sat and looked over the city at the lights. You looked so cute, in awe like that. Maybe he did love you. Maybe it was love at first sight, but he doubted it was the same way for you. Sure, he was amazing in every way possible. But things like this took time.
“Leo? Leo!”
“Hm? What?”
“You spaced out for a second, dude. Look at the sunset. And the stars are starting to come out, too.”
The sunset looked incredible, and with stars sprinkled about the night sky, it was even better.
“Woah…so beautiful.”
You both quietly watched as the sun went down over the horizon. The stars started to come out, and soon it was nighttime. Leo looked over at you again as you yawned and laid down on the roof.
“Tired?”
“Heh, a little. I could use a little extra sleep anyway.”
“Want me to take you home?”
“No, I want to stay here…and look at the stars.”
“Well, the roof can’t be comfortable for sleeping on.”
“You’re right. I think this would work better.”
Leo was taken aback as you came over and laid your head on his lap. He blushed slightly, but luckily for him, it was too dark to see.
“Much better.”
“Y-you comfortable there?”
“Yes, very much so.”
Leo sat as still as he could to make sure you were comfortable. He didn’t want to ruin this moment. It was perfect for him. He looked up at the stars with you. They were truly a sight to see.
“What are you doing, stupid?”
Leo hadn’t noticed, but his hand had started to drift towards your head. He was too caught up in making sure everything was perfect that he didn’t realize.
“Oh sorry, I was just…um…”
“Just…um…what?”
“Well…sometimes my brothers lay on my lap, and…they like it when I rub their heads…so I guess it was just like instinct, or something…”
“Well, keep doing it. It felt nice.”
Leo chuckled as he kept rubbing your head.
“Heh, okay.”
Leo laid back a little bit while you both continued to look up at the stars. He was so comfortable with you…he could almost just let it all out right now. He was in love with you and there was no denying it.
“Hey y/n…”
“Hm? What’s up, Leonardo?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“As long as it’s not another stupid joke.”
“Haha, no, it’s not. It’s something else…”
“Then what is it?”
“Well…um…I’ve had a great time with you tonight. And I know we’re not very close…but I think I like you.”
“I mean, cool. Good to know you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t think you understand.”
“What don’t I understand? You just said you- oh.”
Leo looked away as you realized what he meant. He was blushing again, but you couldn’t see it.
“Well…I think that’s okay.”
“Okay? What do you mean, okay?”
“Well…you’re pretty cool. Despite your stupid jokes, you’re actually pretty funny. And I’ve seen you fight before, sometimes I just sit back and watch you guys if I get there late. You’re a pretty nice guy. I like you too.”
Leo smiled as you told him how you felt. It was a relief to hear. After a second of silence, he spoke again.
“Well, now what?”
“Hmm…I think I’d like to relax and watch the stars with my boyfriend. That would be nice.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Ugh, you’re so stupid. You, silly.”
Leo laughed awkwardly. Right, him.
#lykaios writes#rottmnt#tmnt 2018#rise of the tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt x y/n#rottmnt x reader#leonardo x reader#rottmnt leo x reader
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um, hello. sorry, i’m a bit new to this “writing-in” thing, hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess.
you see, about a week ago, i met with my brother for the first time in… a while. about ten years to be exact. i was turned fairly young, when i was about 16, and my brother was only around 5 at the time. thing was, when i was first turned, i didn’t tell my parents. they would have hated the idea of me becoming a creature of the night, let alone a hematophage.
i didn’t quite understand how feeding worked at the time, or the sudden hunger that would strike me if i didn’t eat regularly. so, not quite sure how to handle myself yet, i nearly starved. i blacked out. and i bit my brother.
i didn’t mean to, i promise. my parents took him to the hospital almost immediately. they asked to keep him from turning, and told me to stay away. so i did. for about two weeks i would leave and come back to the hospital, only to be turned away by a family member or nurse refusing to let me see my brother. i would go home, only to find my parents had put in iron and silver all around, burning me whenever i tried to enter.
so i left. there wasn’t much i could do. i grew up staying with friends, other people of my genus, never staying to long in one place. i settled down fairly recently, got myself a home and a new boyfriend. and a job at a small shop downtown. one day, as i’m walking up to get inside, i see my brother. he’s looking in the window at some new posters we had gotten. i was so happy. i ran up to him, perhaps coming on a bit too strong, and introduced myself.
i understand that i hurt him in the past. i know i scared him. i hate that i ran away, and left him. but to see my own brother, staring up at me, terrified, holding a silver stake? it was a new kind of pain.
i see him almost every day now, but i keep my distance. he made his message clear. he works next door, apparently. sometimes i leave notes, apologies that i find crumpled in the gutter between our stores.
please. i miss my brother. but he hates me now, and he refuses to speak. i’d rather he renounce me, scream that he hates me, or do something, anything other than staring at me with his hand on his belt ready to pull out that damn stake. what do i do?
The first thing that strikes me in reading this letter is the ages of everyone involved. You say you were “fairly young” when you were turned. Reader, you were a child. You were a child, going through a change that is frightening and difficult even for adults who have freely chosen this path.
You were a child, and you were failed, utterly, by the adults responsible for keeping you safe. They failed to provide a supportive environment for you, so that you felt the need to keep this transformation a secret. In so doing, they failed to protect both you and your brother from the obvious, foreseeable consequences of that secrecy.
You didn't “run away” or abandon your brother. You were driven away – again, as a child. You had no agency in this situation, no chance to choose how you wanted to act. Please, be a little kinder to yourself.
I am also struck by your brother's age. He's not an adult man choosing to cut you out of his life – he's a 15 year old boy, already muddling through the slings and arrows of adolescence, suddenly confronted by the reappearance of his estranged sibling.
I'm afraid, reader, you may be asking too much of him. You have no idea what your brother has been told about you.
You don't know what he's been told about the events preceding your departure from the family home, or how your parents have raised him to think about the creature community in general. (Though, if he habitually carries a silver stake in his belt, we can certainly make some inferences.)
His reaction to you speaks more of shock and confusion than outright hatred and anger. It might be that he just needs time to process your reappearance, and to decide how he wants to proceed. Give him that time.
I recommend approaching him one more time, in as calm and neutral a manner as you can manage. Let him know you aren't going to push this – that you'd like to spend some time with him, perhaps get a cup of tea and chat a little, but that it's entirely up to him. Give him an easy way to contact you, and then, reader – walk away.
I hope your brother has a better support system around him than you did at his age. I hope there are adults in his life who can help him through this difficult process and reach a decision that feels right for him.
But that's not something you can control. All you can control is how you treat him – with respect and dignity, taking an adult's share of the emotional burden so it does not fall entirely on his young shoulders.
And by that, I do mean you need to take responsibility for your own emotional well-being here. Whether you find support from your friends or seek out professional help, you need to work through your grief and trauma around your parents' behaviour towards you.
At the risk of sounding patronising, I urge you to remember that you are also still very young, both by sapio standards and even more so by the standards of other, more long-lived genuses.
Your youth does not undermine your right to safety or happiness, or your right to have your grief taken seriously. But it does mean that there is time for this situation to change.
In time, your brother may grow out of the narrow view of the world in which your parents have raised him. I hope so. And by working on yourself and your own emotional health, you will be ready to be better sibling to him if and when he does choose to have you in his life.
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This is technically a continuation of this post!!
-x-x-x-
prohero!bakugou who's been gone on an overseas mission for months with no contact to those who he left in Japan
any down time he's got he's at least reading through the texts he gets
a few from his mom, a couple from his dad, maybe a handful from his friends about all sorts of random shit he may or may not care about
then he's reading all of yours. He'll read all the new ones, then if he's really feeling his Emotions(TM) he'll start rereading everything
he'll also catch up on his voicemails, even if he doesn't have very many because most people know he won't listen to them or he'll go into his mailbox and just start mass deleting
but he does listen and keep all of yours
i mean, why wouldn't he? he asked you to do exactly what you've been doin everyday since he left
highlight of his days honestly
he's convinced that its the daily messages from you that help keep him off the next flight home- it sort of eases the urge to just go back home
but he does the mission from start to finish and when his date back is finally set he's itching to get back to familiar sights, soil, smells and the place where you are
but even when he knows when he'll be home, he still has no jurisdiction to tell you that
he'd have to wait until he's on the plane back home or even landed before he could whip out his phone and speed dial your phone
when he's packing his bag for his return trip, he's never been so disorganized in his life
when he packs for trips, he always prefers to separate everything. all his shirts are folded, his pants are rolled for optimum space, boxers are neat with his socks, toiletries are sealed in a waterproof bag and placed as flat as can be
now?
he's thrown all his shit inside the case and made it fit by force. squishing it all down and pinching the zipper together
he did not care if the zipper busted- he was ready to go the hell home
the entire flight home he was jittery. leg bouncing, finger tapping, arms crossed
he tried sleeping to pass the time, but he couldn't seem to calm down
most of the returning heroes who were coming home with him didn't even try and strike up conversation to make the flight go by quicker in fear of him snapping at them out of sheer impatience
when the plane finally lands, he's first off the plane and first to bag claim and first out the door onto the familiar streets of japan
"holy fuckin' shit," he's mutter, finally feeling relaxed before whipping out his phone and texting you
-wake up-
it was the middle of the afternoon and he didn't know if you were even home or asleep, but it was the only thing he could think to say strangely enough
-you can text!!-
he chuckles as he pulls his suitcase along with him against a wall. standing in the shade, he's attention is solely focused on his phone
he's glad you responded so quickly
it's been so long he couldn't remember your schedule anymore or if it had changed since he left
-i can do a lot more than that-
without much more prodding, your contact was flashing over his screen and he waits maybe a second (if we're being generous) to answer and push his phone to his ear
visibly exhaling when you start talking
"katsuki!"
"you don't need to shout, stupid"
"i'm excited, don't shout shame me. where are you? it's pretty loud over there. meeting? are you supposed to be on the phone right now"
he chuckles at your skeptical nature- like he'd break rules on a big time job in the first place
he's not that stupid
"i'm at the airport, i'm not gonna get my ass railed for being on my own damn phone"
despite his cursing, you laugh
then you register 'airport'
"you're coming home?!"
"nah, babe, i'm already here. come get me."
"what?!"
he barks at the sounds of your rushing around the house, probably scrambling to slip on the easiest pair of shoes you have and a jacket
"i'll be there in like 10 minutes. 20 is traffic is bad!"
"the traffic is always bad"
"i'm hanging up!"
he could hear your excitement before the line cuts and he's grinning before he's sending small texts to his friends signaling his return
when he sees your car pull up to the curb, he's pushing off the wall he's been resting against and you're jumping out of the car
he nearly has a heart attack since you didn't look at the road before rushing out and car were just whipping behind you
"moron! watch where you're going!" he's shouting at you as you run up to him
his grip abandons his suitcase handle to grab you as you ran straight into his chest, clinging to him as he took steps backwards from your crashing impact
his eyes almost rolled into his skull at the feel of you in his arms again after so long
he was positive he'd finally be able to have a good nights rest tonight, he can feel it in his exhausted bones
you pull away from him just enough to look into his eyes and he can see the shine of tears in yours, his hands resting on your hips just enough to sway you back and forth
"welcome home," you greet him
"yeah," he kisses your head "i'm home"
and he wasn't going anywhere else anytime fuckin' soon
#katsuki bakugou#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou scenarios#bakugou headcanons#bnha scenarios#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#katsuki fluff#mha scnearios
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Undercover - Chapter One
Summary: Homicide Detective Dean Winchester and Detective Y/F/N Y/L/N go undercover to solve a spate of murders.
Universe: Detective AU
Pairing: None (yet)
Chapter Word Count: 1.7K
Warnings: Dark subject matter. Angst.
A/N 1: As always thank you to my beta @winchest09, who helped me with the idea for this story. You are my cheerleader, my bestie and my constant support. I love you.
A/N 2: As you may or may not know, I haven’t written anything in an absolute age. I have been struggling with writer's block and life has simply got in the way. But…I started this series a long time ago and a few chapters were just sitting in my docs. So I thought I would post the prologue in the hope that you guys enjoy it, want to read more and it may give me the inspiration to continue with it. I’m happy to say, most of you seemed to enjoy it so here is Chapter One. Please let me know what you think - comment and reblog if possible ❤️ Tag list is open if you wish to be added.
My Masterlist
Undercover Masterlist
3 weeks before Prologue
Dean walked through the winding streets of Pasadena, Los Angeles, making his way towards the precinct where he would now be working.
After spending a week in the hospital after ‘the incident’, he had been ordered by his Captain, Rufus Turner, to take some time off work to recuperate from his ordeal. Dean wasn’t happy with this command, and had been very resistant to agree. The police force was his life, and the idea of just sitting at home doing nothing was alien to him. But he knew that Rufus was not the kind of man you could argue with.
Rufus had been his chief for several years, and Dean knew that he wouldn't back down once he had made up his mind. He had tried to reason with him, explaining the importance of his job as a police officer, but Rufus had already made up his mind.
Flashback
"Look, I know how you feel," the older man had said, his tone firm. "But you need to take some time off. You've been working non-stop for months. You need to recharge your batteries, spend some time with your family, and just relax."
Dean knew that his Captain was right. He had been putting in long hours, working weekends and holidays, and neglecting his personal life. He had missed important family events, and he could feel the strain on his relationships.
"I understand, sir," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "But what am I supposed to do? I can't just sit at home and do nothing."
Rufus smiled. "I'm not asking you to do that. There are plenty of things you can do. You can take a vacation, travel, catch up on some reading, or do something you've always wanted to do but never had time for. The point is to take a break, clear your head, and come back refreshed."
The officer nodded, silently acknowledging the wisdom in the words he had just heard. He knew he needed a break, and he also knew that his Captain had his best interests at heart. He would take some time off, reconnect with his family, and come back ready to serve and protect.
"Thank you, sir," he said, standing up. "I appreciate your concern, and I'll take your advice."
Rufus nodded, pleased. "Good. Now, go enjoy yourself. That's an order."
When he eventually returned to work, the idea of being given a new identity and to move away from Lawrence, Kansas had been posed to him. He had been furious, but had eventually agreed when he realised if he didn’t, his life could be in danger.
It was going to be strange. A new day, a new station and a new name.
He pulled the badge from his pocket, the one that was mailed to him by his new superior Captain Bobby Singer.
Detective Jon Elliot.
Dean huffed a laugh. He recognised the mixture of names that had been chosen. Jon Bon Jovi and Joe Elliott. He was impressed. Even though he didn’t think he looked anything like a ‘Jon’, the name was something he was going to have to get used to. His life, and many others, were at stake.
Opening the heavy doors of the police station, he walked over to the desk officer.
“Detective Elliot to see Captain Singer,” he announced. The deputy nodded and picked up the phone. Dean turned around, noticing a few chairs to his left and sat down.
He looked around the reception area. It was full of people, coming and going, and was much bigger than the station he had worked in back in Lawrence. It consisted of a large communal area with around twenty desks and three offices. One that belonged to him and his partner Benny, one that had belonged to Captain Turner and one that had been used as a store room. There had been very little crime in the area he had originally worked in.
That was until Michael had come to town.
He shook the memory from his head, determined to not let himself be distracted today.
“Detective Elliott?” A burly, thick set, bearded man in his late 50’s was walking towards him, his hand outstretched.
“Captain Singer.” Dean stood and shook the man's hand.
“Please. Call me Bobby. There’s no formality here,” he said “Come with me if you will,” he continued, gesturing to a corridor on his left.
Dean nodded, and side by side the men walked quietly towards an open door.
Entering the spacious office, Bobby closed the door behind him as Dean took a seat by the large, oak desk. Taking a moment to look around the room, the Detective took a deep breath as he tried to get himself accustomed to the new surroundings. Photo frames filled with smiling faces adorned the wooden space in front of him. He could only assume that it was the family of the older man who he would be reporting into.
"Dean, I was sorry to hear about Benny," the Captain started, taking his place in his plush office chair opposite him before he steepled his fingers. "Terrible situation."
“Thank you,” Dean acquiesced, taking in the grim expression on Bobby’s grizzled features. He appreciated the concern, but was hoping that he wouldn’t be expected to go into too much detail. He wasn’t sure he felt quite ready enough to discuss what happened in depth with a stranger, even if he did mean well.
“Losing one of our own is always a deep blow,” the elder man continued, “And for it to be your partner while you were on a case must make it even harder to bear. I have lost a few colleagues…” Bobby’s words trailed off as he realised Dean was fidgeting in his seat, loosening his tie with his right hand, the fingers of his left hand drumming against the wooden arm of the chair.
“Anyway, I digress,” he went on, mentally kicking himself for making the new Detective feel uncomfortable, “I’m sure you’ll fit right in here. I trust your new accommodation is to your liking?”
Dean was happy that the subject had been changed. As Bobby had been speaking, he could feel his heart rate begin to raise, his palms getting sweaty. He wondered briefly if the Captain had noticed, and that was why he had stopped talking. If that was the case, Dean knew he needed to get himself in check. He could not perform his duties correctly if he couldn’t bring himself to talk about Benny. Even though no one else in the precinct knew his real identity except his superiors, it was enough that Bobby asking him questions had made him react this way for him to realise he may need to take the force up on the offer of a therapist.
“Yes, yes thank you Sir. It’s very nice,” Dean lied. The small apartment he had been supplied was in a rough part of town, above a liquor store, but he was grateful for the relative safety the tiny rooms afforded him.
“Okay so,” his new Captain went on, “I’ll introduce you to the team, using your assumed name of course. They’re a good bunch. A few mavericks that need to be reigned in now and again, but besides that, they behave themselves most of the time.”
Raising from his seat, Bobby buttoned his jacket as he walked past Dean towards the door. He opened it and gestured for the younger man to exit the stuffy office.
He was led through a corridor into a bustling investigation room. Numerous staff were typing away on keyboards, the clack of their fingers creating a cacophony of different rhythms. Desk phones were ringing loudly, most of them being ignored. A large white board containing photographs of suspects in the particular case they were currently investigating stood at the front of the room, words written in different colours of magic marker, some circled, some underlined filling in the gaps between images.
Dean followed his superior as he moved between the desks, the occupants standing up as the Captain passed, nodding at him briefly before taking their seats again and getting on with whatever work they had been doing. Some of them glanced at Dean as he walked closely behind, others ignored his presence.
It was clear that Bobby ran a tight ship and was well respected by his subordinates. The fact that they stood up when he approached their work station was a surprise to Dean, as this was not something anyone did for Rufus back in Lawrence, but he made a mental note to remember this in future.
The duo had reached the desk of an attractive blonde police woman. Her face was open and pleasant, a bright smile on her lips. She rose to her feet, as Bobby introduced her.
“Detective Donna Hanscum, this is Detective Jon Elliott.”
“Pleased to meet ya,” she said, holding her hand out. Dean shook it, warming to her friendly demeanour straight away.
“I’ll leave you in Donna’s capable hands,” the Captain told him, “come by my office before you leave for the evening.”
As Bobby turned away, Donna pulled a chair out and patted it. “Take a seat.”
“Coffee?” she offered, her eyes moving towards a vending machine in the corner of the room. “It’s not gourmet, but it does the job.”
Dean was relieved. He was desperate for some caffeine. “Please. Black, no sugar.”
“You betcha.”
As Donna prepared the beverage, Dean took in more of his surroundings. The staff were a mixture of uniformed and plain clothes officers, male and female, young and old. Some were busy on their desktops, others were leaning back in their seats, cellphones to their ears. Food was being consumed at work stations, papers were being shuffled, names were being yelled.
It was so different to what Dean was used to, but he liked it. It distracted the tumultuous thoughts that haunted him, even in his waking hours.
Donna, returning to her desk, brought him out of his reverie. He took the plastic cup gratefully and gingerly sipped the tepid liquid. She was right. It was far from gourmet, muddy tasting and luke warm, but it provided the caffeine hit he really needed right now.
“Nasty right?” Donna chuckled, obviously noticing Dean’s disdainful expression.
“It’s fine,” he smirked, placing the cup down.
“So, Jon,” Donna said, turning her body towards him, “What brings you here?”
Chapter Two
Tags - @salt-n-burn-em-all / @littlelonewolfgirl/ @krazykelly/ @deans-spinster-witch / @lastcallatrockysbar / @ssimelttilgniht / @123passwort / @winchester-girl67 / @winchestergirl2 / @americasass81 / @jessjad / @akshi8278 / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @waywardbaby / @deanwinchesterswitch / @440mxs-wife / @globetrotter28 / @sexyvixen7 / @hobby27 / @djs8891 / @kickingitwithkirk/ @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden / @kyjey / @lindalouh / @solariklees/ @trektraveler
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fic#detective!dean#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural au
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Camp Wanamaker (Ch 8/10)
September 7, 2023
Notes - I know this chapter is exceptionally overdue and I'm so sorry that it is, but my job raised my hours pretty significantly, and, with everything else going on in my already crazy life, I found it very hard to sit down and write. However, I'm hoping to get the next few chapters out as soon as possible so we can move on to bigger and better things!
Chapter 8 - Rumor Has It
The sun slowly rose over the hills of trees that surrounded Camp Wanamaker. Morning light crept across the gentle waves of the lake and the tops of the cabins, dancing across the dewy grass and making it shimmer like a million minuscule diamonds. The yellow-orange glow snaked its way closer and closer to the windows of each building, finding the cheap cotton curtains with ease. The light eventually seeped through the curtains and spilled onto the bed of a certain brunet boy, his chocolate coils woven into little knots as he struggled to get himself out of his twisted sheets while he slept.
It had been a rough night for Royce. He had just barely fallen asleep when an emergency notification about a missing child in the area rang loudly on his phone, jolting him awake as he tore out his earbuds. By the time he had finally worked himself back to the edge of sleep, it was nearing two in the morning. He wasn’t the only one who had issues with chasing sleep that night, which was made apparent as Bentley entered the room and silently joined his brother, relishing in the quiet and calm his brother’s room provided. Thankfully, they had the day to recover and relax while everyone else did as they pleased on their last day of freedom before the next group of campers arrived.
As Royce stirred, the soft rays of light filtering through his eyelashes as he slowly blinked them open, a light grumble from his side caught his attention. Glancing down, he found Bentley curled up to his side, his face buried in Royce’s shirt to avoid the sunlight coming in from the window. A notion of a chuckle left Royce’s mouth as he peered over at the clock on his nightstand. All he needed to see was the glowing, red six at the start of the number to know that his little brother wouldn’t be moving any time soon. At least, not willingly. Taking in a slow breath and sighing, Royce reached for the cell phone he had ditched on the nightstand and relaxed back onto his pillow, ready to enjoy a lazy morning.
If you asked any of the Murphy brothers, lazy mornings were reserved for Sundays anyway. Back in their home, they would usually be found lounging on the couch with bowls of soggy cereal or packets of Pop-Tarts, their eyes semi-glued to the typical weekend cartoons playing on the TV as they ate breakfast. Well, in more recent months, they had. Their old television was a crappy box model with a single dial that had only one good station while the other four were filled with either news or politics. However, after Vivien’s “stay-cation” to their world, they had grown accustomed to the hundreds of stations they could receive with the television the girl had gotten Mick’s help with making.
It didn’t take them long to realize that living at Camp Wanamaker was something else entirely. Most of the televisions available were outfitted with every app known to mankind and possessed a slew of shows nobody in the cabin had seen before - not even those who lived in the modern world. Not every cabin had a television, of course, but the ones that were home to just counselors or staff members had at least one for the cabin to share. Royce and Bentley had spent their free mornings during staff weeks in front of the TV, watching shows that Vivien and Mick had added to their watchlists. It was a good way to spend their mornings, all in all.
Just as Royce had begun searching his phone for something to keep himself occupied, Bentley shifted, slowly lifting his head from Royce’s shirt and grumbling a complaint about the sun. A yawn caught the youngest of the Murphy brothers, forcing him to stretch against the mattress as he made a noise of frustration. Flopping back down against the sheets, Bentley slowly turned toward Royce and muttered, “G’mornin’.”
“Morning,” Royce spoke softly. “Have a good sleep?”
Bentley shrugged, “Kinda.”
Royce hummed, “Do you wanna go watch the next episode of that zombie show? We can make some cereal and just chill on the couch while everyone goes to the mess hall.”
After a moment of contemplation, Bentley shook his head, “I don’t think I’m up for watching someone get their insides eaten like a bowl of zombie spaghetti jsut yet. Can I watch you play the cat game instead? You know, the one where you help the robots?”
Bentley watching Royce play games was nothing new, but it had become far more common in recent times. While Bentley loved playing games with adventure or mindless fun as the main focus, story-driven games like What Remains of Edith Finch and their newfound favorite, Stray, made it easier for Bentley to relinquish all control of the game to Royce in favor of watching him play and piecing together the storyline at his own pace. In a way, it was easier and both brothers enjoyed the time they got to spend together.
With a smile, Royce nodded as he sat up, “Sure, Benny. Why don’t you go get that started up and I’ll make breakfast.”
As Bentley sluggishly shoved the blankets away from his legs, he grinned, “Can I have Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk?”
“Yeah,” Royce nodded. “You want your Hufflepuff mug or just a normal cup?”
Bentley snickered, “No, RJ, I mean, can I have chocolate milk in my cereal?”
Royce paused, feeling as though he had a circle swirling above his head as he processed his brother’s request. “But-” he took in a breath, “Benny, there’ll be chocolate milk at the bottom anyway if you’re having Cocoa Puffs.”
“I know,” Bentley shrugged, “but I want it more chocolatey so when I drink it after the cereal’s gone, it’s not like two little bits of chocolate and a bowl of straight milk.”
With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Royce relented, “Alright, fine. That makes sense.”
As he followed Royce to the door, Bentley smirked and asked, “Can I have a glass of orange juice to go with it? Maybe some pickles afterward?” The look of disgusted horror Royce sent in return as he whirled around made Bentley cackle, patting his brother on the shoulder as he ducked around him. Bentley had just reached the bottom step when Royce began thumping down them, rattling off about disgusting food combinations first thing in the morning and musing how someone they knew must have been pregnant if he was craving something so nasty. Bentley beamed with pride as he grabbed the game controller from the coffee table; it was mornings like these that he didn’t mind being up so early.
Vivien moved sluggishly as the rain battered against the air conditioner that stuck out of one of the music hall’s windows. Rain always made her tired and, with nothing better to do, she and Miles were stuck in the music hall, practicing guitar and fooling around with the instruments that would, typically, go unused on a day like that. To make matters worse, it was Monday. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; however, that meant the carnival in Laconia was now officially open, and, due to the rain, they wouldn’t be able to go.
The trips to the carnival had been planned quite thoroughly. Every day, one group would be taken to the carnival for the day and return for dinner. Although most everyone at the camp wanted nothing more than to go to the carnival, the rain had come over the area overnight and the carnival grounds on the early-morning news had looked more like muddy grass soup, making it an easy decision for those at the camp to stay at the camp.
As Miles strummed a song on the guitar and hummed softly along, Vivien dropped onto the bench beside him, a yawn leaving her as she tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, “I’m so fucking bored.”
“Join the club, kiddo,” Miles chuckled, allowing his strumming to fade off as he pushed his focus onto the girl beside him.
“Does the club offer cookies?”
“Only on weekends and at club meetings.”
“Then I don’t wanna join,” she sighed.
“Too bad,” Miles teased, nudging the girl with his elbow as he set the guitar down beside his leg. “Once you’re invited, there’s no turning it down.” Vivien glanced in Miles’ direction with an amused smirk before another yawn tugged itself from her. “Tired?” he asked.
Instead of firing off a quick quip, Vivien lazily nodded, leaning closer to Miles until her head came into contact with his shoulder. “I slept fine last night, but I woke up later than normal and it’s throwing me off.”
Miles chuckled, tugging his arm from between them and bringing it around Vivien’s shoulders, “For some reason, I don’t have that problem.”
“You suck.”
“You love me.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you still suck,” Vivien muttered as she brought an arm around Miles’ back.
Allowing himself to smile, Miles gave Vivien’s arm a squeeze, “You’re such a little shit.”
“Takes one to know one.”
As rain battered against the windows, the wind rattling the glass ominously as it passed, Miles grinned. Even though they spent almost every day in the music hall, it wasn’t too often that he got to spend time with just Vivien. Normally, the music hall was filled with kids wanting to bash the drums or learn guitar, the split of interests keeping him and Vivien on opposite sides of the large room. It was times like these - the rare moments when the hall was empty and they would be able to talk or play guitar - that Miles felt an actual connection with the girl.
They had spent a few months under the same roof during Vivien’s prolonged stay in their world over winter break and he enjoyed watching her grow more comfortable around everyone he knew and loved. Once she had gotten out of the “Royce’s girlfriend” title everyone had given her and made a name for herself, Miles got to see the different sides of Vivien that he hadn’t yet found. After everything they had been through over her break, she now felt like the younger sister he never got the chance to have.
As Miles glanced up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be before they would need to break out the buckets in the storage room to catch dripping water that penetrated through the older roof, Vivien sighed. Despite her exhaustion, her mind raced with thoughts of what they were going to do to keep themselves busy until Saturday. As one of the last groups to go to the carnival, they had to keep themselves entertained for most of the week. After a moment, Vivien glanced out the window toward where the pool would, by now, be empty. Maybe she could convince Mick to let her swim in the rain; it would beat sitting around, doing nothing while they waited for a potentially musically inclined camper to stumble through the door.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen much of Mick lately. Faintly, she wondered if the older girl was okay. She knew that Mick was suffering from a few health issues lately as they had talked a bit about her recent bouts of exhaustion, some pretty strong nausea, and how she had woken up with swollen ankles with no reason as to why. Maybe she had been taking things easy in the hope that everything would fix itself before the time came for the appointment she had called to schedule the day before. Though she wondered what could be happening with Mick, she had a few ideas.
Pregnancy was, of course, one of the top suspects as the nausea and swelling were common in pregnancy. However, she couldn’t be sure. After all, Mick didn’t look pregnant. She was still just as toothpick thin as always - that damned metabolism Vivien wished she possessed keeping Mick looking more lean than muscular. It could still be possible, but she couldn’t recall Mick and Butchy having the chance to sneak away to - Vivien tried not to vomit at the thought - do the deed.
Deciding she would have to bite the bullet to find out, Vivien lifted her head from Miles’ shoulder and asked, “Do you think Mick is pregnant?”
Miles’ head lilted to the side as he shot the girl a bewildered, raised eyebrow, “Where did that come from?”
“I was just thinking. You know how Mick’s been feeling off the last few days?” When Miles slowly nodded, Vivien continued, “Well, her symptoms are similar to pregnancy symptoms.”
“They are?”
With a nod, Vivien said, “Morning sickness, exhaustion, swelling, lack of period-”
“How do you know she doesn’t have her period?” Miles questioned.
Sending Miles the most bland face she could muster, Vivien deadpanned, “We’re girls, we talk about these things. But that’s not the point.”
“Right,” Miles said with a shake of his head, “so you think she could be pregnant?”
“Maybe,” Vivien shrugged. “I mean, they delayed their honeymoon so they could help here, but they’ve had the time to go out together and stuff. There’s no telling when it could have happened.”
Though Miles seemed to consider the idea, he mused, “But she doesn’t look pregnant.”
“Not everyone does,” Vivien claimed. “When Aunt Hayley had me, she didn’t show at all.”
Miles was silent for a while as he thought about all Vivien had said. It could be true. He had seen Mick behaving differently lately - constantly feeling chilly, falling asleep on the couch while watching movies, and having to step out of the mess hall sometimes because the scent was overpowering - but he hadn’t thought of pregnancy. He simply thought she was coming down with the stomach bug that was starting to pulse throughout the town.
Taking in a breath, Miles sighed, “It sounds like Mick is pregnant.”
“Well, we don’t know for sure,” Vivien said. “I can always ask her when I’ve got the chance.”
“Better you than me, kiddo.” Miles chuckled, “She’d probably rip my head from my shoulders.”
“Yeah, somehow I doubt she’d take it too kindly,” Vivien snickered.
As Miles let out a snort of agreement, the door of the music hall slammed against the frame, the wood rattling as the wind beat against it. The laughter died on Miles’ lips as he and Vivien turned toward the door, eyeing it with wide stares. “Was that the wind?” Miles breathed.
Vivien pushed herself to stand, maneuvering around the bench and walking to the door, twisting the handle before tugging it open. Rain bucketed from above and the only sign of life was a group of kids who were busy screeching as they ran up the path toward the safety of the dance studio. Leaning against it to make it click into place, Vivien turned to Miles and shrugged, “It was either the wind or a ghost.”
With a shrug, Vivien grabbed a guitar and made her way back to her seat, silently asking Miles to help her with a song she wanted to play as she sat back down. As they began working on figuring out the chords of the song Vivien had chosen, neither of them was prepared for the onslaught of chaos that the week would bring. Just down the path from the music hall, the door to the dance studio slammed open as a group of dripping campers piled in.
“What happened to you?” one of the girls asked from the far side of the large room. On one side of the room, dancers in sweatpants and leotards stretched on the floor while others practiced before the mirror. However, as the door closed once more, the group of five by the door had everyone’s attention.
“We all decided to hop in the pool after practice,” Chloe, one of the soaked campers, answered sarcastically.
“We came from the tennis courts,” one of the drenched campers - a blonde named Maxine - said as she wrung her hair out over the doormat. “We had to cut around the music hall to get here quicker.”
“And,” the only brunette from the group - Rachel - piped up, “you’ll never guess what we heard on our way here!”
If they didn’t already have the attention of those around them, they certainly did now as questions popped up throughout the room like a game of Whack-A-Mole. Stepping to the front of the group, the youngest of the campers - Alex - beamed as she declared, “Mick, the lifeguard girl who always gives us extra time to relax after swimming laps, is pregnant!”
Squeals of excitement bubbled up throughout the dance studio, a few commented on how they “just knew” she had to be, and others questioned how the girls knew, to which Chloe said, “We overheard her friends talking. You know, the girl with the long-ass hair and the boy who’s dating Carrie? They were talking about Mick being pregnant and we heard them on our way by.”
As excited exclamations passed through the room, the door to the back hallway opened and a small girl entered the room, followed soon after by Charlie, who led the dance studio every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Looking around the room, Charlie placed her hands on her hips and sighed, “Alright, everyone, calm down. If you keep this up, I’ll be having you go across the floor right off the bat.”
“But, Charlie,” one of the stretching dancers argued, “we’re talking about Mick.”
“Yeah,” another agreed. “What do you think of her being pregnant?”
“Pregnant?” Charlie repeated with a raised brow. “Where did you hear that?”
Murmured answers flitted around the room before settling as Alex spoke up, “We overheard Miles and Vivien talking about it.”
“Eavesdropping, were you?” Charlie admonished as she made her way further into the room.
“Not intentionally!” Rachel exclaimed. “We were walking by the music hall and overheard it.”
Making a mental note to talk with the pair about the situation at their next meal, Charlie sighed, “Well, that may be, but I haven’t heard anything about this, so I would advise you all to keep this to yourselves. Nobody likes having rumors spread about themselves.”
A chorus of reluctant “yes, ma’am”s filed the room and, as Charlie let out a sigh, she hoped she had squashed the rumors quickly enough that it wouldn’t spread around the dinner tables. With any luck, she’d be able to talk with Miles and Vivien before word spread too far. Usually, rumors at camp spread quietly and quickly, festering overnight into nonsense and plaguing everyone on the grounds within a day or two. If Charlie noticed it spreading much at all, she would try to find a way to sit Mick down and talk with her. She would need to prepare the girl for the onslaught of gossiping campers and concerned questions from her friends if the kids let it spread any further than it already had.
Clapping her hands together, Charlie brought herself back to the task at hand and declared, “Alright, everyone, find your place at the barre and get comfortable. We’re all going to feel the burn today.”
Despite Charlie’s best efforts, it had been impossible to find the chance to get Miles or Vivien away from everyone else before they headed to bed Monday night. She didn’t want it spreading more than she presumed it had, but Vivien was constantly with Royce and Bentley while Miles was practically attached to Carrie’s hip. They had spent the evening playing games and watching movies, giving Charlie little chance to speak her mind. When they were getting ready for bed, Charlie told Hayley about the situation. Hayley wouldn’t be able to do much to help as she was supposed to be helping in the office on Tuesday, but she promised that, if she heard anything, she would say something.
Charlie felt particularly tense at breakfast, overly focused on the noisy voices around the room as she tried to silently shield her niece’s friends from being the topic of conversation. It wasn’t until her wife nudged her, telling her the meal was over, that she finally moved, jerkily rising from her seat and disposing of the few pieces of egg that she had left on her plate. Stationed in the playhouse to help with makeup and choreography for the upcoming play, Charlie followed Carrie and Riven down the winding path to the old wooden building in relative silence.
While Riven got to work on helping set things up on stage, Charlie and Carrie headed to the storage room to dig out the makeup they would need for the day. Eyeing the blonde from her side of the little room, Charlie asked, “Carrie, you’re close with Mick, right?”
Turning toward the woman with the pink-tipped braids, Carrie shrugged with a smile, “I’d say we’re friends, but she’s closer with Miles than she is with me. Why, what’s up?”
Instead of directly answering, Charlie asked, “If Mick was pregnant, would she tell you?”
Carrie’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as she processed the sudden question, but eventually, she said, “I definitely wouldn’t be the first person on the list - maybe not even in the top five - but she might. Why, do you think she’s pregnant?”
Glancing out the door to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, Charlie lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Some girls came into the studio yesterday and were telling everyone that they overhead Miles and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant. I wanted to see if they had said anything to you about it.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Carrie said, “Like I said, I wouldn’t be in the top five, but they would be.” Carrie began counting on her fingers, “Butchy, her parents, Miles, and Vivien - I would assume those would be her top five. I can ask them, if you want?”
“No, no,” Charlie said with a shake of her head, “that’s fine. I just… I want to be careful with it regardless of whether it’s true or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Charlie began as she hefted a metal case of makeup onto her hip, “if she’s not pregnant, we can help squash the rumors now before they get out of control. But, if Mick is pregnant, we need to keep an eye on her. She’s not showing and, depending on how far along she is, that can be detrimental.”
“How so?” Carrie asked, following Charlie through the backstage storage and into the dressing rooms.
Setting the metal case on a nearby stand, Charlie sighed, “Back when Hayley was pregnant for Vivien, she never once showed. I was with her for most of the pregnancy - as a friend, at the time - and she went through hell. If Mick’s pregnant and is further along in her pregnancy, it could be dangerous for not only her, but for the baby as well.”
Carrie took in a slow breath as she soaked in the information, “Should I talk with Miles about it? See if he can tell me anything?”
“Not right now,” Charlie said. “Let him focus on music lessons. Besides, I haven’t heard anyone talking about it around camp, so I think we should be all set for now. We can talk with him and Vivien later, when they’re not busy banging around on the drums and we don’t have a bunch of makeup to sort through.”
As Charlie pulled a chair out from in front of one of the lightbulb-lined mirrors, Carrie followed suit with a hum. With the metal makeup case between them, Charlie unlatched the clasps and opened the lid before pulling out the extra trays so they could see all that was inside. Looking inside the case at all of the makeup, Carrie asked, “What are we going to do with all of this?”
Smiling at the blonde, Charlie took a lipgloss from the top shelf of the case and said, “We’re going to go through all of this and make sure it’s all still good. If something is good, we’ll try it out and make sure it still looks good. If it passes both tests, we’ll keep it. If it doesn’t, we toss it.”
Examining a tube of mascara, Carrie asked, “How are we going to check if they’re still good before we test if on ourselves?”
Charlie chuckled, “Do you see the little jar on there with a number and a letter on it?”
Carrie searched the tube before nodding, “Yeah, it says ‘6M’ on it.”
“That means it’s good for six months after it was opened.” Charlie looked for the little engraving mark on her lipgloss before setting it aside. “If it still has a wrapper or the receipt is in the little makeup bag at the bottom of the case, we’ll keep it. If not, its trash.”
“Got it,” Carrie said as she reached into the bottom section of the case and pulled out a black box. Carrie’s eyebrow raised as she read the box, “Conspiracy?”
Peering over at the younger girl, Charlie chuckled, “Oh, I remember that! Don’t throw that no matter what it says.”
Glancing up, Carrie asked, “How come?”
“It’s Vivien’s pride and joy,” Charlie claimed.
“But she doesn’t even wear makeup?” Carrie said curiously as she opened the palette.
“No, but she loves that thing,” Charlie smiled. “You see, she had watched this series online of this Youtuber guy and his friend - a makeup guru - making a palette together and that was the end product. She spent two hours waiting for it with me and Hayley, but it sold out within a half an hour. We were lucky enough to get the full set when it relaunched, but she keeps it here to keep Abby out of it.”
With a chuckle, Carrie looked over the shades and commented, “I can’t imagine she got into it at all.”
“She tried,” Charlie said, a ghost of a smile appearing as she reminisced. “She looked like a raccoon and cried before asking me for help.”
“Are you a self-proclaimed ‘makeup freak’ too, then?” Carrie asked.
“Hell yeah,” Charlie laughed. “Kind of have to be when you’re a dancer.”
“How long have you danced?”
Charlie thought for a moment before admitting, “Since I was two. My parents put me into ballet, aka the perfect breeding ground for eating disorders, anxiety, and the fear of imperfection.”
“Ah,” Carrie sighed as she set Vivien’s makeup aside and reached for something new, “been there, done that.”
Charlie set a container of powder aside and said, “You know, when I was younger it was more fun than anything, but once I was put into pointe, it was like I had stepped onto the world’s biggest slip-and-slide. One wrong move and I’d be ditched for the next best dancer.”
A sense of understanding washed over Carrie like a wave. She hadn’t felt overly close with Charlie before, but knowing they both had intense dancing backgrounds and still had lingering side effects from it, gave their budding friendship more depth. “The fear of failure is strong with every former dancer, I guess.”
Charlie hummed, “It must have been a fairly easy transition for you - going from dance to acting. The expressiveness and emotions you need to have on stage could translate well on screen, right?”
“I’d like to say so, yeah,” Carrie agreed. “Though, sometimes, I wish I could just turn my emotions off. It doesn’t take much for me to get all worked up over something small.”
“I can’t say I don’t feel the same way,” Charlie mused. “Although I find it easy to work my emotions into my books. Channeling them into something new helps force you to sort through them slower.”
Carrie thought about it for a moment before grinning, “I don’t think I could do something like that. Writing isn’t exactly my forte.”
With a shrug, Charlie said, “It’s the author in me, I suppose. However, if writing isn’t your thing, you could always try channeling it into music.” At Carrie’s skeptical gaze, Charlie smirked, “Don’t give me that face. I’ve heard you sing. You could really make something if you took the time to sit and work on it.”
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“And you think I did?” Charlie scoffed, “My first novel looked like a kindergartener wrote it compared to my work now. Nobody starts off great. Anyway, you could always ask Viv or Riven or even Erica for help; they all write music.”
Carrie nodded but then stalled as she reached into the makeup case. Curiously tipping her head to the side as she looked toward Charlie once more, she asked,l “I knew Riven and Erica wrote music, but since when has Vivien written music?”
“For years now,” Charlie claimed as she met the blonde’s blue eyes. “She doesn’t play them with the band muchas she can’t write the sheet music for them, but those journals of hers aren’t just filled with novel ideas. You should talk to her about it sometime. Maybe she’d show you some of her work.”
As Charlie got back to work sorting the makeup into two piles, Carrie hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe.”
“Maybe we can make a new one, but make it a bit bigger,” Carrie offered.
Bentley sighed, “And maybe I should stick with painting instead of pottery.”
As a majority of the playhouse crew had been taken to the carnival that Wednesday, Bentley had dragged Carrie to the art barn to show her his latest works while everyone else kept busy in their normal areas. His paintings, as always, were like something Bob Ross would come out with. Bentley felt at ease with painting; he could sit at an easel with a palette of colors and a set of brushes for hours without getting the least bit distracted. It was also something his brothers declared he shared with their mom - a love and natural talent for telling a story through paintings and sketches. His pottery work, on the other hand… Let’s just say that Bentley could have told everyone a seven-year-old made it and nobody would be able to tell it was his work.
The first few times Bentley had tried to make something with a mound of clay on the spinning wheel, they turned out to be understandably awful - a lopsided vase, a cracked bowl, and a statue of a dog that lost two legs and its tail in the kiln being among his efforts. However, his recent attempts appeared to turn out just the same. His first attempt at making a tea set for Mick had cracked and separated, and the potion bottle he wanted to make for Vivien’s birthday ended up getting damaged when another camper’s sculpture exploded and shattered everything inside the kiln. The mug he had tried to make for Miles was his most recent attempt and, while it still looked like a mug, it was now so small that it looked more like something Vivien would turn into a pair of earrings than it did an actual mug for drinking purposes.
Setting the miniature mug on the table, Bentley slouched into a chair with a huff as he glared at the shrunken pottery. Not willing to let the boy wallow in his thoughts, Carrie offered him a smile and said, “I think it looks great and Miles will too.”
A raised eyebrow answered Carrie as Bentley glanced up at her, “I can’t give that to him - it’s tiny.”
“And you and I both know that he would love it all the same.” As Carrie moved to sit at another pottery wheel, Bentley sighed, but remained quiet as she continued, “He loves everything you make for him and you know that.”
“I know,” Bentley muttered, “but I wanted this to be special.”
“And it still is.”
“How? He can’t drink out of it.”
“Yeah,” Carrie agreed, “but he can use it as a Christmas ornament in a few months.”
Bentley snorted despite himself, the thought of the little mug dangling from their living room tree dancing through his mind. Finally shifting his gaze from the cup to the blonde across from him, Bentley grinned, “He would.”
“I know.” Carrie smiled at the boy before flicking her hair over her shoulder and chuckling, “I wouldn’t put it past him to use that as the star on top with how much he loves caffeine.”
Feeling a bit better about how his failed pottery had turned out, Bentley breathed, “I guess it won’t be a total loss if I give it to him looking like this.”
“Exactly,” Carrie said with a nod. “He’ll love it regardless. And, if you decide to make another, you’ll know to make it a bit bigger.”
“I guess so, yeah,” Bentley agreed. Taking in a deep breath as he stood, Bentley asked, “So, what do you wanna do? We can paint or draw or make awful sculptures of each other, if you want. I’d offer you a photoshoot, but that’s more Royce’s expertise than mine.”
“That’s fine,” Carrie chuckled. “I don’t think I have the artistic abilities to do much of anything here.”
Bentley moved over to the wall of blank canvases and pulled a pair of small ones down as he turned to Carrie once more, “Come on, it’ll be fun. We can hang out and talk while we paint.”
As Bentley set up a pair of easels, Carrie let out a hesitant laugh, “I doubt mine will look anything like yours.”
“It doesn’t have to be good,” Bentley stated. “So long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”
“Are you sure?” Carrie asked as she stood. “I mean, I’d be more than willing to just watch if you want to make something. You know, that way I don’t waste paint on something terrible.”
“As long as the paint goes on the canvas, it’s not a waste,” Bentley insisted. “Besides, we can make anything; nature scenes, a fictional world, or, I don’t know, maybe we could paint ourselves as superheroes or something.”
While Bentley got to work collecting paints to place on a tray between the two easels, Carrie’s train of thought screeched to a halt at the boy’s words. Looking over at the teenager with a smile, Carrie slowly sat down on one of the stools Bentley had pulled over and said, “That reminds me, I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh yeah?” Bentley asked, glancing at Carrie before returning to the tub of assorted paint tubes before him. “What about?”
“Before we left home, I got a call from my manager.”
Hefting the container of paints onto a rolling table between the easels, Bentley looked at Carrie with an almost nervous chuckle, “You’re not getting fired or something, are you?”
Letting out a shocked bark of laughter, Carrie reached over and shoved Bentley’s shoulder, “No!”
Giggling, Bentley said, “Well, you never know!”
With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Carrie shook her head and said, “That’s not it at all. Actually, it’s pretty much the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“A film company I hadn’t heard of before reached out and offered me a role in their new show,” Carrie explained.
“That’s great,” Bentley said with a brilliant smile. “What’s it about?”
“All I know about it is that it’s an assassin show,” Carrie claimed. “However, the only down side is that it’s going to be filming almost exclusively in Europe.”
“Europe?” Bentley repeated. When Carrie nodded, he asked, “What, like England or Scotland?”
“I know part of filming will be in the UK,” Carrie mused, “but for the character they want me to portray, filming would primarily be in Russia, Belarus, or Ukraine.”
Bentley allowed Carrie’s words to sink in, processing them slowly as he uttered, “That’s a long way from home.”
Carrie sighed, “I know. That’s sort of why I haven’t told Miles that they want me signed on.”
“Miles doesn’t know?”
“Not yet, no.” Carrie took in a deep breath before admitting, “I sort of wanted to get your reaction before telling him.”
“Well, I think it’s a great opportunity for you, but I think we both know how Miles will react,” Bentley said. “He’ll be happy for you no matter what. Just remember that he’ll probably end up going to the library to do as much research on your filming locations as possible. Remember what he was like when he had to decide which school to put me and Royce into?”
Of course, Carrie knew all too well. Miles had spent hours upon hours looking into the local schools, trying to figure out which one would be best for his brothers. After work, he would go to the library and research the local schools and their programs, searching for any hint of safety issues or cases of bullying. Royce and Bentley had to ride their bicycles to the library more than once to pry him away when it was almost closing time. After basically interrogating Lela about her old school and trying to see which schools had the best art and literature classes, he finally settled on one and signed all of the application papers overnight, falling asleep at the kitchen table with some of the papers stuck to his face and his pen still in hand. When Carrie showed up to pick Miles up for work the next morning, it took Bentley grabbing the spray bottle from the bathroom and filling it with frigid water to wake him from his slumber.
“Yeah,” Carrie said slowly as she nodded.
“That was just him figuring out a local school for us,” Bentley reminded her. “We weren’t going anywhere out of the state. So, when the time comes and you finally tell him, just know that he’ll be so much worse than that.”
Wondering just how bad it would be, Carrie sat silently, her gaze drifting as she allowed images of Miles scouring shelves of old books and frantically asking Mick and Vivien for help researching things on their phones to fill her mind. Eventually, her gaze drifted back toward Bentley and the two shared a nervous smile before dissolving into laughter. For a while, joy filled the room, filling the silent gaps in conversation that had once lingered between the pair. Eventually, the laughter began to fade and, as Carrie looked to Bentley once more, she sighed, “What have I gotten myself into?”
Bentley snickered, “A few months of pestering questions and nonstop research.”
“At least,” Carrie chuckled with a shake of her head. Taking in a breath, Carrie thought of Miles’ tendency to look into every possibility with a fine-toothed comb and wondered aloud, “I wonder if he’ll do the same for Mick when the time comes.”
“What do you mean?”
Snapping her gaze from the canvas before her to the blond boy beside her, Carrie cleared her throat and said, “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…” she sighed, “Charlie told me that some girls in the dance studio were talking about Mick being pregnant. It’s probably just a rumor, but I was just thinking how Miles would react if he she told him.”
“People really think she’s going to have a baby?” Bentley asked incredulously. “That’s crazy!”
“I thought so too, but there’s no telling,” Carrie claimed with a shrug. “Charlie thinks it could go either way.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“I wonder if anyone else has heard about it,” Bentley said thoughtfully.
Carrie shrugged, “If the campers know, it’s probably spreading through camp as we speak.”
“Probably,” Bentley breathed. He would have to talk to Royce about it later on as he sometimes left the library door open for fresh air. If anyone walked by and was talking about it, he would hear it from the desk. With a shake of his head, Bentley grabbed a palette from the table between himself and Carrie and held it out for her to take. “You ready to get your paint on?”
Carrie eyed the colorfully stained palette before reaching up to take it with a smile, “Absolutely.”
Royce sighed as he ran his towel over his dripping curls. He was going to take a shower that night anyway, but after being unceremoniously shoved into the lake by Riven, he had gone inside to take a shower before they started playing games. Riven had caught him staring at Vivien - a normal occurrence, he thought - and his girlfriend’s skating partner chose to tease him about it when his girlfriend left the pier to help her aunts bring coolers of drinks down from the parking lot. After a while of back-and-forth, Riven gave Royce a nudge, and, needless to say, he was unprepared for it.
Tripping over the uneven planks, Royce had plunged into the cool lake, scaring off a nearby school of fish as the water enveloped him. Glancing out of the window near his bed as he sat down, Royce huffed; the trail of water he left from the edge of the pier to the front door of their cabin was still faintly visible in the fading sunlight. While it would be gone in the morning, Royce doubted his embarrassment would be. By the time he had resurfaced, Riven was folded over on the dock, laughing like a hyena. Bentley and Erica were no better as they took one look at each other and burst into laughter, only resorting to poorly disguised snickers when Jade elbowed them both in the ribs. Miles and Butchy hauled him up on the pier with matching smirks that told him they wouldn’t be letting it go for at least a day or two.
As Vivien and her aunts made their way down the beach toward them, Royce ducked past Carrie and Mick and gave a halfhearted response to his girlfriend’s question as to where he was going before ducking into the log cabin they were staying in and allowing the door to slam shut behind himself. Now that he’d had the chance to simmer and wallow in his mortification, Royce wondered if the red tinting his skin was due to the hot water or the embarrassment he still felt pulsing through his veins. Despite the mint-scented body wash he’d practically caked himself in, he could still smell the strong odor of seaweed and fish in the air. Royce sighed; maybe he had gotten water up his nose.
A knock on Royce’s door drew his attention away from his misery and he cleared his throat before asking, “Who is it?”
“Just me.”
Bentley. Royce took in a deep breath and said, “Come in.”
The handle twisted and Bentley pushed his way into the room with a grin before closing the heavy door behind him. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” Royce offered. “Did you guys start without me?”
“Of course not,” Bentley chuckled as he moved to sit beside his brother, “but Mickie wants us to watch a video before we play Mafia, so I said I’d come see if you were ready to join.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Royce said as he set his towel aside. “I just hope they’re alright with me still smelling like fish.”
“Ah,” Bentley breathed with a smirk, “so that’s what that smell is.”
Shoving Bentley, Royce chuckled, “Shut up.”
Bentley let out a short laugh, “Seriously, though, you smell fine.”
“Well, good, ‘cause I’m sitting next to you.”
“Oh no!” Bentley gasped dramatically. “Whatever shall I do? I’ll have to deal with you smelling like three-day-old sushi all night.”
“You are such a dick.”
“I can’t be a dick, my name’s not Richard.”
Royce shook his head with a laugh, “Whoever decided Dick was a good name for Richard, clearly hated people named Richard.”
“I know, right,” Bentley chuckled. Pushing himself to his feet, Bentley nudged Royce with the back of his hand and asked, “Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” Royce nodded, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“You’d better hurry or I’ll eat your peanut butter M&Ms.”
With a roll of his eyes, Royce grabbed his towel and stood, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”
As Bentley reached the door, his hand wrapped around the handle, he turned back to Royce and asked, “Hey, um, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Royce said as he tossed his towel into the hamper beside his dresser.
Taking in a contemplative breath, Bentley asked, “Have you noticed anything different with Mick lately?”
Glancing over as he took a pair of shorts and a shirt from his dresser, Royce shrugged, “Not that I know of, why?”
“People are saying she’s pregnant.”
“Really?” When Bentley nodded, Royce asked, “Who did you hear that from?”
Knowing how quickly Royce would dismiss the thought if he said where he truly heard it from, Benltey said, “Some campers. I guess it’s been passing around camp.”
Royce thought for a moment before sighing, “We live with her; I think we would know if she was pregnant.”
“Maybe, but maybe she and Butchy wanted to keep it a secret and someone overheard them talking about it,” Bentley suggested.
The more Royce thought about it, the more things made sense. He knew how fast rumors spread - Vivien’s friendship with Noah being one that was spun into a mess. If Mick and Butchy truly were going to have a baby and someone overheard them talking, it wouldn’t be long before the whole camp knew. Even if they weren’t and someone had made it up, it wouldn’t take long for the camp-wide game of Telephone to make its rounds. Besides, if anyone else had noticed her exhaustion as of late, her few-and-far-between coffee refills at breakfast, or the way she no longer stole pickles from Butchy’s plate during meals, that would only contribute to the way things were spiraling.
“Maybe we should ask and see if anyone has seen a difference in her,” Royce suggested as he set his clothes for the next day on his desk chair.
“I asked Erica and Jade if they noticed anything,” Bentley said, “and Erica said she hadn’t noticed anything, but Jade noticed she’s been having stomach pains lately.”
Royce nodded thoughtfully as he joined Bentley by the door, “I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye on her. Maybe I’ll talk to Miles tomorrow and see if he knows anything.”
“He’s her best friend,” Bentley mused as he pulled the door open. “He and Butchy would be at the top of the list of people Mick would tell.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Royce agreed as he followed Bentley to the stairs.
Royce’s day had gotten off to a pretty good start. Despite sleeping in far later than he usually did, almost everything had gone well. The mess hall had his favorite omelets for breakfast, the library was practically empty up to lunch, and some of the other staff had helped put together a makeshift carnival on the soccer field for everyone to have fun that afternoon. A trampoline Vivien claimed they had borrowed from her grandparents’ house was on one side of the field, a rented slip-and-slide was on the other end, and a myriad of games littered the area. The only other activity that had been set up was a water balloon fight; buckets filled with peltable balloons were arranged in a row stretching across the grass at the bottom of the fence that surrounded the playground off to the side of the field.
As Royce wandered aimlessly through the field, he spotted his older brother crouching behind a piece of the wooden play structure, water balloon in hand. Making his way over to the wooden fence that separated the playground from the soccer field, Royce watched as a small girl Royce knew usually stayed in the back corner of the library, poked her head around the rock climbing wall and chucked a green balloon in Miles’ general direction before ducking back behind the wall. Just as Royce was about to call out to Miles, he heard another child laugh and watched a balloon sail just over Miles’ head. Miles peered over the wooden planks that sheltered him and quickly threw his balloon, watching it nail a kid who was no older than ten as he crossed an exposed bridge.
“Ah!” the kid shrieked as water burst across his shirt.
Another kid climbed up on the monkey bars to get a better view, but before they could make their shot at Miles, Royce called, “Hey, Miles!” As the kids stalled and Miles turned to see who wanted him, Royce asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Miles nodded, turning and raising his arms in surrender before calling out to the kids, “Hey, guys? I’m tapping out!”
“Come on!” the kid on the monkey bars moaned as Miles stood.
“For how long?” another whined.
“Dunno,” Miles replied as he shrugged. Despite the children’s grumbling complaints, Miles walked over to the fence Royce leaned against with a smile and lowered his voice as he asked, “Hey, what’s up?”
“I, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Alright,” Miles nodded, “go ahead.”
Royce glanced over to where Mick was standing with Butchy, utterly annihilating him at the ring toss station, before looking back to Miles. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to ask.” Royce took in a deep breath and sighed, “Do you think there’s any way Mick could be pregnant?”
Although he appeared taken aback, Miles glanced over at Mick and Butchy and thought for a moment before meeting Royce’s eyes and asking, “Where did this come from?”
“Bentley,” Royce replied. “He said he heard a few campers talking about it yesterday and that it could be just a rumor, but from what I’ve seen, it could be true.”
Letting out a slow breath, Miles asked, “What have you seen?”
Royce took in a breath to organize his thoughts before he began, “She’s not drinking energy drinks anymore and she’s having a lot less coffee at breakfast, she hasn’t been eating much of anything and can’t look at certain foods without gagging, and even Jade says that Mick’s been having a lot of stomach pains lately.”
“And both you and Ben think that means she could be pregnant?”
“I looked it up on my phone while I was at my post earlier and the symptoms are very similar.”
Miles spared another glance at Mick as she dragged Butchy to yet another booth with a gleaming smile on her face. Taking a good look at his friend, he wanted nothing more than to dispute Royce’s claim. She looked fine! Not that pregnancy would make her look bad, by any means, but she looked the same as she always did. Shaking his head, he asked, “And Bentley was sure he heard them correctly?”
Royce nodded, humming in confirmation, “He seemed worried about her, so I’d say so, yeah.”
“I’ll try asking him about it later, maybe he’ll remember who it was that said it and we can go from there.”
“Sounds good.”
“Yeah.”
Just as Royce was about to head back to the makeshift carnival, a pain flared against his shoulder as he felt water splash across his face and down his arm. “Ow!” he yelled, sending a glare at the cockily-smirking girl who threw and caught another water balloon.
“What the fuck?” Miles called to the kids as they laughed from their places on the play structure.
“I’m not even playing!” Royce called.
“‘Cause you’re a chicken?” a boy called back.
“Chicken!” the girl with the devilish smile taunted.
“You’re a chicken, Royce!” another kid called.
As the children continued their teasing in the hopes of goading Royce into playing, Royce sighed, “Sometimes, I really hate those kids.”
Miles turned to Royce with a smirk and nodded toward the kids, lowering his voice as he asked, “You want to fuck them up?”
Royce took a look around and, noting that everyone was a pretty good distance from them, nodded as he turned back to Miles, “Yeah, I do.”
With a proud grin, Miles turned back toward the kids and began walking back to his previous spot as he called out, “You asked for it!”
“Better run, you little rugrats!” Royce called as he climbed over the fence.
Filing into the mess hall with damp shirts and laughter on their lips, Miles and Royce made their way to the end of the line to grab trays and fill them with food. After grabbing a tray, Royce took off, telling Miles he was going to talk to Vivien before disappearing down the line. Miles shook his head with a fond smile, glad his brother found happiness in little moments with his girlfriend. After grabbing some mac and cheese from its tin, Miles rounded a few campers and found himself next to Bentley as his youngest brother shoveled steak tips onto his plate.
“Let me guess,” Miles began, making Bentley jump, “you’re planning on drowning that in ketchup.”
“Absolutely,” Bentley beamed. “And you’ll pour that nasty steak sauce on yours like you always do.”
“Okay, first of all, it’s not nasty, you just have no taste buds,” Miles said. “And, second of all, yes, yes, I will.”
As Bentley’s face contorted into one of disgust, he handed the tongs to Miles and muttered, “Gross.”
Rolling his eyes with a smile, Miles grabbed some steak from the tin it sat in. Glancing at his youngest brother, Miles lowered his voice and said, “You know, I was actually hoping to talk to you.”
Bentley turned to Miles before quickly sighing, his eyes closing in defeat as he said, “If this is about the salamander, I swear, I had nothing to do with it.”
Miles turned toward Bentley again and asked, “What salamander?”
Searching his brother’s eyes for any sign of deception, Bentley slowly said, “I take it Carrie didn’t tell you.”
“No,” Miles said. “Why? What happened?”
Letting out a snort, Bentley recalled, “She and I were walking to the cabin so we could make sure we had stuff for the movie tonight and, on the way back, Carrie went to take a drink of her water and found that a little lizard had climbed onto her bottle.”
“And you had nothing to do with it?” Miles asked skeptically.
“Of course not,” Bentley replied. “Carrie and I have actually been getting along. If Royce had been there, I would have blamed him, but he was with you, so…”
“So the lizard just wanted a drink, huh?”
“Guess so.”
Heaving a sigh as he joined Bentley at the juice bowl, Miles said, “Anyway, that wasn’t what I was hoping to talk with you about.”
“Oh yeah, right,” Bentley chuckled. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”
“I was talking with Royce earlier and he said you told him there’s a rumor that Mick might be pregnant,” Miles stated. “I was just wondering if you knew which campers were spreading it around?”
“Well,” Bentley began, heaving a thoughtful sigh as he looked up at his brother, “the thing is, I didn’t overhear it from some campers.”
“You didn’t?” When Bentley shook his head, Miles asked, “Why did you tell Royce you had?”
Bentley sighed, “I didn’t want to say anything to Royce because I knew he would deny it if he knew who really told me. He’d probably say she was just spreading crap around or something, but I knew it was true and I didn’t want him to just brush it off.”
It didn’t take Miles long to figure out who his youngest brother was talking about. “You heard it from Carrie?”
“Yeah, she and I talked about it yesterday,” Bentley said with a nod. “She said that Charlie told her some girls in the dance studio were talking about it.”
Glancing at the table they normally sat at, Miles was glad to see the table had yet to be filled with their cabin’s inhabitants, but both of Vivien’s aunts had already claimed their normal seats. Then, just as Miles was preparing to make his way over and question Charlie himself, Mick and Butchy made their way to their seats and began conversing with the older women. Turning back to his brother, Miles asked, “Tonight, when Charlie and Hayley are making snacks for movie night, can you keep the others away so I can talk to them?”
Raising his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, Bentley smiled, “Aye aye, captain.”
Chuckling, Miles reached up and ran a hand through Bentley’s hair, ruffling it as he turned and headed for the table they typically dined at. Sitting down at his usual spot, he briefly wondered if Mick knew about the circulating rumors or if it had been a rumor at all. If her beaming smile and boundless laughter at Hayley’s terrible jokes were anything to go by, he doubted the brunette knew anything of the rumors. However, he couldn’t be sure. Mick’s tendency to laugh during awkward situations made it hard to tell what she did or didn’t know. Even if she was pregnant and had chosen to keep it a secret, he wondered if the rumors floating around would have any effect on her. She took almost everything to heart.
Miles inwardly sighed; he would just have to wait and find out for himself.
The smell of popcorn and the sound of laughter filled the cabin as Miles stepped inside. While everyone else was outside, playing ninja on the end of the pier and pushing the losers into the lake, Miles had slipped away in the hopes of finding Charlie and Hayley alone in the house. Just as he had presumed, they were in the kitchen, sitting on the countertops with cups of green juice that looked almost radioactive.
“Hey, Miles,” Hayley greeted, raising her cup slightly as Charlie waved.
“Hey,” he said in return.
“Did Viv send you in to ask about the snacks?” she asked with a knowing smirk. Before he could answer, Hayley chuckled, “She knows I won’t give her a straight answer, so she sends her friend instead - the little shit.”
Before Miles could say anything to the contrary, Charlie smiled and said, “The popcorn isn’t in yet, but the pretzels are almost done.”
“That’s good,” Miles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Viv didn’t send me in, though.”
“Oh,” Hayley said, “that’s surprising.”
“What did you come in for?” Charlie asked. “A drink, some chips, maybe to save me from my wife’s terrible puns.”
Hayley scoffed, placing a hand over her heart as though she’d been stabbed, “My jokes aren’t terrible!”
“Yeah, they are.”
“You laughed, asshole.”
“It was a pity laugh.”
“Bullshit,” Hayley laughed.
With a roll of her eyes and an exaggerated sigh, Charlie turned her focus back to Miles and smiled as she asked, “Anyway, what do you need, sweetheart?”
“I was actually hoping to ask you something,” Miles admitted.
“Me?” Charlie asked, pointing to herself. Miles hummed in confirmation. “Well, in that case, I’m all ears.”
Taking in a deep breath, Miles sighed as he slowly recounted, “Royce told me that Bentley said that Carrie told him that you said you heard people talking about Mick being pregnant. I was wondering if you knew who was talking about it?”
As Charlie thought it over, her eyebrow raised and she lowered her cup of juice to the counter beside her as she said, “Some girls in the studio were talking about it, yeah, but they said that they heard it from you and Vivien.”
“What?” Miles wondered. “But I just found out about it today.”
Charlie glanced down, allowing herself to think over what had happened in the last week. Slowly, she claimed, “On Monday, I was instructing ballet and jazz. Dina Woodward injured her wrist and I stepped out with her to wrap it. When I came back, everyone in the studio was giggling and talking. A group of girls said they went by the music hall on their way in and overheard you and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant.”
Miles allowed the woman’s words to sink in as he tried to recall what happened on Monday. He and Vivien had been in the music hall, playing guitar, talking, and relaxing as rain pelted the area. Vivien had been particularly tired that day, nearly falling asleep on Miles' shoulder as they sat in silence. Then, as the timer for the pretzels dinged, it hit him. While Miles was worrying about the possibility of rain coming through the ceiling, Vivien had asked him a question about the chance of Mick being pregnant, listing off her reasoning for thinking about it. While they were talking, the wind had slammed the door. However, Vivien had checked it and they moved on like nothing happened. Maybe it hadn’t been the wind. Maybe it had been the campers listening in.
“We started all of this,” he admitted softly. With a heavy sigh, Miles said, “I have to go tell Vivien so we can stop the rumors.”
As Hayley pulled the tray of pretzels from the oven, she requested, “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”
“What?” Miles asked. “Why?”
Charlie hopped down from the counter and crossed over to Miles, resting a hand on his arm as she replied for her wife, “Tonight, we’re supposed to be relaxing with some good movies and good snacks. Let everyone take some time to breathe - yourself included - and you can worry about it tomorrow.”
“But-”
Charlie was quick to cut him off, reaching up and cupping Miles’ cheek in her free hand to draw his attention to her words, “But it will still be an issue tomorrow and everyone will still be understanding tomorrow. Take the night to enjoy time with the family. Rumors at camp don’t last, but memories with your family do. You can work things out with everyone tomorrow, but give yourself time to process it for now.”
“Yeah,” Hayley agreed as she moved to stand beside her wife as Charlie patted Miles’ shoulder comfortingly. “Besides, Vivien will go into a full-tilt frenzy trying to make things right and, if you start that tonight, that poor child won’t sleep. If you tell her in the morning, she’ll have enough energy to fuss about it all day.”
“Hails,” Charlie gently reprimanded, elbowing the woman beside her.
“What?” Hayley asked rhetorically, a laugh falling from her lips as she returned to the counter to salt the pretzels. “It’s the truth. She’s just like me and we both know it.”
With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Charlie turned back to Miles and smiled, “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I know you want to fix this here and now, but you and I both know you want Vivien’s help since you both are, somehow, at the start of it.”
“Yeah,” Miles admitted in a breath.
“So, like Hayley said, I think you should wait,” Charlie claimed. “It will still be there tomorrow and you can work on it together without having to deal with a sleep-deprived, caffeine-riddled Vivien stumbling through the grounds like Jack Sparrow on dry land.”
Letting out a snicker at the mental image of Vivien fumbling her way through the camp with a bullhorn, shouting incoherent claims in the hopes of clearing Mick’s reputation, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be the greatest way to handle things.”
“Mhm,” Charlie hummed, patting Miles' hand as she turned and grabbed a stack of cups from the counter. “Now, take these out and hand them to everyone. We’ll be out in a few with snacks and drinks and then we can start the movie.”
“Are you sure you guys don’t need help?” Miles offered.
“Are you a psychiatrist?” Hayley asked as she set a bag of popcorn in the microwave.
Miles’ head tipped curiously to the side as his eyebrow raised and he slowly replied, “No?”
“Then, no, I think we’re all set,” Hayley chirped as the microwave whirred to life.
Rolling her eyes once more, Charlie pushed the cups into Miles’ hands and said, “Take these and run before you’re subjected to any of her horrendous jokes.”
Miles chuckled, taking the cups and heading toward the hallway, “Alright, alright, I’m going.”
As the popcorn began sizzling in the microwave, Hayley turned to Charlie, leaned against the counter, and asked, “If my jokes are so bad, why do you always laugh?”
“Because I love you,” Charlie answered with ease as she sidled her way up to her wife.
“And here I thought you found me funny.”
“Funny looking, maybe,” Charlie teased, “but those puns of yours are just plain terrible, my dear.”
Placing the back of her hand to her forehead and letting out a gasp of air, Hayley whined, “Oh, how you wound me!”
“Drama queen.”
“Fun hater.”
“Oh yeah?” Charlie said. When Hayley nodded, Charlie asked, “Do you know what the leading cause of divorce is?”
Curious, Hayley offered, “A lack of humor in a relationship?”
“Nope,” Charlie said with a shake of her head before leaning up and kissing Hayley on the cheek. “A stalemate.”
As Charlie took the bag of popcorn from the microwave and opened it to pour it into a bowl, Hayley processed the joke, her jaw slowly opening in shock, “Holy shit; was that a fucking pun?!”
“You know,” Vivien mused, “when Carrie told me to break a leg, this wasn’t what I thought she meant.”
In place of their usual day of recreation and rehearsals, that Friday was spent challenging the campers and staff alike. Unlike many of their previous days filled with activities, The Gauntlet - as the campers had begun calling it - had taken place at the amphitheatre and, as many expected, many workers had signed on to participate. Between the ropes course, the speed challenge, the scavenger hunt, and the climbing wall, everyone had their work cut out for themselves in one way or another. While the campers competed in teams, the staff were left to fend for themselves.
It was to no one’s surprise that Vivien had signed up to compete; her boundless energy and competitive nature boiled over when she found both Riven’s and Noah’s names on the sign-up sheet. What was surprising, however, was the fact that she ended up getting injured. Despite making it through the race in the top three and finding everything on her scavenger hunt list with relative ease, it was the ropes course that had been Vivien’s downfall. Near the end of the course, her foot had slipped on the wooden planks, sending her flying into the podium, and she narrowly avoided slamming face-first into the trunk of a tree.
Riven had managed to get her down after she quickly discovered how painful standing was, but as the auburn-haired skater was next in line for the next segment of the challenge, Miles had offered to take Vivien to the health center to see how bad her injury truly was. That was where they could be found, Miles hitching Vivien further up in his piggyback hold as he made his way to the front entrance of the health center.
Miles chuckled, “I highly doubt you’ve broken anything.”
“I know, but still,” Vivien shrugged. “It’s a good thing I got to know her before Royce’s impression of Carrie infected my brain.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm,” the brunette hummed. “Otherwise, I would’ve said she put some ancient curse on me or something.”
Miles let out a snort as he paused to glance over his shoulder at the younger girl, “An ancient curse? Really?”
“I’m from New England, the home of literal witches,” Vivien deadpanned. “At this point, anything’s possible.”
With an amused shake of his head, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I can’t see Carrie as a witch.”
“I could,” Vivien said with a smirk as Miles pushed the health center door open with his shoe. At Miles’ curious look, she said, “Tell me she wouldn’t be an incredible Sarah Sanderson.”
“That’s the one from Hocus Pocus, right?” Miles asked as he nudged his way further into the building. “The one who they push into the street to see if it kills them?”
“Yeah!” Vivien chirped as Miles set her on one of the beds. “You know, the blonde who sings to draw everyone in with her magic. Carrie would be incredible as her.”
As Miles pulled a stool over to sit on, he nodded, smiling at Vivien as he sat before her, “I could see that working out.”
“Just wait until I have her watch those with me after my birthday,” Vivien chuckled. “I give her an hour before she starts planning to have you two dress up as Sarah and Billy for halloween.”
“An hour?” Miles chuckled with a shake of his head. “Half an hour, maybe, but I doubt she’d wait an entire hour.”
Vivien smiled as she worked on untying her shoes, “Yeah, true. Maybe she, Mick, and I could go as the Sanderson sisters this year.”
“I thought you, Royce, and Bentley were going as Stranger Things characters.”
“We haven’t decided yet,” Vivien shrugged. “I wanted to go as Max or Robin and Royce was going as Steve or Dustin. Bentley wanted to go as Will, but then he saw the demogorgon costume and now that’s up in the air. But, if they can’t decide before we go to Spirit Halloween, I’m going to just go with the girls and they can fend for themselves.”
Miles let out a snort as Vivien dropped her shoe to the floor, “Then I’ll have to listen to them whining for the foreseeable future.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
Miles chuckled and shook his head, “Speaking of problems, we need to talk about something, but first, can you move your foot at all?”
Vivien sucked in a breath and winced as she moved her foot around in a slow circle, “Yeah, but it hurts.”
“Alright, so it’s definitely not broken,” he mused, “but it could be a sprain or a twist.”
“My bet’s on a sprain,” Vivien commented. “Even with a twist, I can stand and put weight on it.”
Miles looked around, “Do you know where they keep the crutches?”
Raising a hand, Vivien pointed to a closet on the far wall, “In there. The code for the lock is nineteen-seventy-three - the year Nonna and Grandpa George got married.”
Miles stood and made his way to the closet, setting the lock aside and opening the door before grabbing a set of crutches and making his way back to Vivien. “How tall are you?” he asked as he examined the slider at the bottom of the metal crutches.
“Five-eight,” she replied. As Miles got to work on adjusting her crutches, Vivien used a sigh to blow her hair from her face and asked, “So, what problems do we need to talk about?”
Glancing up at the girl before him, Miles took in a breath and asked, “Do you remember the other day when you and I were talking about Mick being pregnant?”
The brunette thought for a moment before slowly nodding, “Uh, yeah, why? Is she?”
“No,” Miles said before pausing. “Actually, I don’t know. What I do know is that a group of campers overheard us and has been spreading a rumor around camp that Mick’s pregnant.”
Vivien let out a humorless chuckle, “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was.”
“How did you find out about it?” she asked.
“Royce told me and Bentley had told him,” Miles stated. “I guess Bentley heard it from Carrie who heard it from Charlie who heard it when the campers went to the dance studio after overhearing us talk about it.”
Vivien thought about the chain of events before recalling, “When the door slammed and I went to check it, there were campers running to the dance studio, but they were far enough away that I thought it couldn’t have been them.”
“Well, I guess it actually was.” Miles set the crutches aside for Vivien and looked up at her before saying, “Now, we have to fix it.”
Vivien nodded slowly, “We should talk to Mick first and get things straight. If the rumor is about her, she should know about it.”
“Yeah, and even if she’s actually pregnant, it would be best to get the story straight,” Miles agreed.
Vivien nodded, but before she could say anything more, the door to the health center opened and Butchy stepped inside, sending the pair a smile as he asked, “How’s everything going?”
Miles was the first to answer, “It’s probably a sprain.”
“I’ll be fine after a day or two,” Vivien shrugged. “I’ve sprained my foot before and it never lasts long if I take a day off of it.”
“Alright,” Butchy said with a small grin, “in that case, consider yourself crutch-bound for the next few days.”
“It’s going to suck at the carnival tomorrow,” Vivien sighed, “but that’s what I get for doing stupid shit.”
Fighting the instinct to tell the teenager off for swearing when a child could walk in at any minute, Butchy chuckled and leaned against the bed next to her, “We’ll work something out for you tomorrow, piccola. One of those air casts or a brace, maybe.”
“Maybe.” Vivien shrugged, “As long as I get to go on the Tilt-A-Whirl, I’ll be fine with whatever.”
Butchy reached up, bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders with a smile, “Atta girl. You feel up to going back to the amphitheatre and watching the rest of the competition?”
“It might take me a while to get there,” Vivien snickered as she took her new metallic friends and settled them under her arms, “but yeah. Are Noah and Riven still in it?”
“Noah lost the ropes course to Riven, but that’s all I know,” Butchy claimed as he stood.
As Vivien stood and began hobbling her way to the door she turned to Miles and asked, “Are you coming?”
Miles smiled, “Yeah, I just have to lock up the closet again. I’ll meet you along the way.”
“Okay,” she said, allowing Butchy to take the lead as she made her way outside.
Once the closet was locked up once again, Miles pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his messages. Finding his last conversation with Mick, he typed, 'Can we talk later? In private?'
It wasn’t long before he got a reply, 'Of course, why, what’s up?'
'Too much to type. Meet in the playhouse after dinner?'
'Sure, see you there.'
It wasn’t often that Butchy found himself walking back to the cabin without Mick by his side, however, as he had kitchen duty that week, he had told her to just head out while he got to work cleaning up. Though the air outside the mess hall was still thick with humidity, the sky had begun to darken and cool the heat of the day. The amount of plates covered in chili and melted cheese had made his fingertips turn to raisins in the soapy sink water and the steam from the hot water made him feel as though he’d been working in a sauna, but the cooler outside air was a welcoming contrast to the heat of the wooden building. Taking in a deep breath, Butchy sighed as a breeze blew by, urging him to make his way back to the lodge he resided in.
He wondered what everyone was up to. They wouldn’t have a game night or movie night without him there as they only ever spent those nights as a whole group. Maybe they were sitting around the living room, doing their own thing. Mick would probably be reading in her corner of the couch while Miles and Riven talked music on the opposite end. Charlie, Jade, and Carrie would most likely be found painting each others’ faces in jelly masks while Bentley and Royce would be on the floor with Vivien, talking about things they only ever talked about together. If he had to guess, Erica and Hayley would be talking off to the side. For some reason, the unlikely pair had grown close after Erica discovered Hayley was the wild child in her family and Butchy had seen the two talking a lot as of late.
Letting out a long breath, Butchy pushed his hair back and began the walk home. Normally the walk went by quickly as everyone chattered about their days and the camper drama they had heard. However, as cicadas chirped in the bushes and the faint buzz of the sparse overhead lights, the journey felt as though it would take a lifetime. A few cabins still had campers and counselors lingering outside, chatting as they dreaded the call of lights out, but many kept their doors closed as they prepared for the evening.
Pushing his way through a line of bushes, Butchy took a shortcut between the health center and the playhouse, glancing toward the health center to make sure the lights were off before continuing toward the playhouse. Spotting a light on through one of the side windows, Butchy made his way to the back of the building, opened the screen door, and pushed his way inside before pulling out his cell phone for a flashlight. Just as he flicked it on, he heard a voice from the main hall where a performance would be rehearsed for the next week.
Choosing to not call out in case it was just people cleaning, Butchy made his way through the back rooms before stepping through the doorway that led to the back of the stage. As he got closer, the voices got louder and, before long, he could make out a set of distinct voices. A heavy sigh came from the main room before he heard a familiar voice say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Mick? What was she doing in the playhouse at this hour? Was she helping someone run lines? Then another voice cut through Butchy’s thoughts, “I wish I was.”
Miles. Since when did he have anything to do with the play? He hated being on stage. Before Butchy could peer around the curtains of the stage to see what was going on, his hand stilled in the air and another voice filled the air, “I mean, at least you found out from us first and not from some random campers, right?”
Vivien’s question gave Butchy pause. As far as he could recall, Hairspray didn’t have a summer camp. Whatever they were discussing, had nothing to do with the play. Lowering his hand, Butchy listened as his wife scoffed, “Still! Half the camp thinks I’m pregnant and I had no clue! Is that why everyone’s been asking me if I’m okay and checking on me all the time?”
“Probably,” Vivien said. “It could just be that they were worried about you.”
“Why would they be?” Mick pressed. “I’m fine.”
“You weren’t eating well and you got nauseous at breakfast almost every day,” Miles stated.
Mick let out a sigh and Butchy could imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration as she huffed, “I started my period and my sense of smell went haywire. It usually goes away after the first few days.”
“You were tired all the time too,” Vivien chimed in.
Butchy had noticed Mick’s exhaustion as of late, but he knew Mick had a good explanation for that as well. “I have two reasons for that,” she began. “First off, I was trying to finish my book before my interest in it died during the week. And, second, Butchy and I have been going on late-night excursions for the camp.”
“You have?” Vivien asked. “Why?”
Mick sighed, “I can’t say just yet, but you’ll see sooner or later. For now, just know that, no, I’m not pregnant. We’ll just have to work on clearing it all up over the weekend with all the kids gone.”
“How are we going to do that?” Miles asked.
Again, Mick sighed, her voice low as she said, “I don’t know, but we can start by spreading things to the counselors. Once they know the truth, they can talk with the campers and clear the air in the privacy of their cabins.”
“We can also tell everyone in our cabin so they can relax,” Vivien added.
“Who else knows about this and didn’t say anything?” Mick asked.
“Royce told me,” Miles began, “and he found out from Bentley, who was told by Carrie, who heard it from Charlie, who was told by the dancers.”
“And I talked to Riven and Aunt Hayley about it
“So practically everyone?” Mick asked.
Vivien chuckled nervously, “To be fair, not everyone believed it, so they didn’t say anything to anybody outside of the cabin.”
“Actually,” Miles started, “Bentley said he talked to Erica and Jade, but I think they’re the only ones outside of the cabin who knew.”
“The only person I think hasn’t heard about it, is Butchy,” Vivien claimed.
“Yeah,” Miles agreed, “I think he would’ve said something if he did.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Mick huffed. After a moment of silence, she took in a breath and said, “We’ll start tonight. We can talk to everyone and make sure everything is smoothed out. As long as we can get through to most of the people in our cabin tonight, I’ll feel better about it, but I want to talk to Butchy about it one-on-one.”
“That’s understandable,” Miles stated.
“I’ll work on everyone else at breakfast,” Vivien said. “I know a few people who would spread it around fastest. Once I get to them, things will clear up pretty quickly.”
As the call for everyone to return to their cabins echoed through the camp, Butchy heard Mick let out a relieved sigh, “With any luck, this will be over before the campers come back.”
“Yeah,” Vivien said optimistically.
“Now, lets get back before the others send out a search party,” Miles chuckled.
“And get to clearing the air with everyone before Butchy gets back from cleaning the mess hall,” Vivien added.
“Yeah,” Mick muttered.
As Butchy listened to their footsteps echo throughout the playhouse, he inched the curtain to the side, watching as his wife left with Miles and Vivien’s arms wrapped around her. None of them looked back to see him standing there, watching them, and as Miles flicked the house lights off, turning the playhouse into a dark abyss of shadows, Butchy wondered how long they had been there, talking. Had he found them early in the conversation or had they been there since they left the mess hall?
Another thing that came to the front of Butchy’s mind was how everyone seemed to know apart from him. Was he truly the last person in their cabin to hear the rumor about Mick’s pregnancy? Who could have started something like that and how had the rumor begun spreading? If it was truly just a rumor as it sounded like Mick said it was, how had it spread throughout the camp? And, again, how would he have been the last to know? As the father of Mick’s rumored child, why would he be the last person in line to know?
Taking in a breath, Butchy shook his head and sighed. He was overthinking it. Mick already said it was nothing more than a rumor; he had nothing to be stressed over. It wasn’t like she was actually pregnant and simply chose not to tell him. If that had been the case, he would have had every right in the world to be at least a little bit upset. That would have been an entirely new can of worms to crack open.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket once more, Butchy turned on the flashlight and made his way back to the back door, ensuring that the lights were off and everything was put away before leaving the playhouse and making his way to the path that connected to the beach. He took his time getting back to the cabin and, by the time he reached the sand of the beach, the sun had set behind the treeline and everyone was congregating on the end of the pier. Despite their smiling faces and jokes about how many dishes he must have had to scrub, he could see in their eyes how serious their previous conversations must have been.
As Butchy took his seat on the pier beside his wife and felt her head rest cozily on his shoulder, he wondered just how long it would take her to tell him. After spending so much time with her, he knew she would need time to sort through her thoughts and feelings on the matter. He had no issue allowing her the space to do so. If he had found out some rumor about himself was spreading amongst his closest friends as well as a myriad of gossiping campers, he would be pretty worked up about it too. As they watched the sunset illuminate the sky, Butchy allowed himself to relax. After all, he had nothing to worry about… right?
Ah, the carnival. The only place where the overwhelming smell of popcorn and fried dough, the sky-high prices of tickets, and the crowds packed tighter than a tin of sardines didn't have any effect on people’s happiness. Workers standing in the summer heat called for people of all ages to try the rigged games they were stationed at, begging them to pay five dollars for a toy they could easily buy at the dollar store. While parents were dragged to ticket counters and various rides their children claimed they just had to ride, groups of teenagers and adults alike gathering on the weekend for a day away from jobs and other responsibilities, roamed free.
After Vivien’s grandparents reassured the group that they had bought day-pass bracelets for everyone, they were practically ushered to the parking lot and encouraged to have a good day away from everything. Upon their arrival at the fairgrounds, the group filed out of the van and found their way through the crowds of people to the line that extended from a row of brightly-colored ticket booths. After making their way to the front of the line and being handed a stack of bracelets with rubber bands wrapped around it, the group found their way to a fairly unoccupied table and worked on figuring out what to do for the day.
After deciding to meet at the Ferris Wheel to figure out what to have for lunch, almost everyone went their separate ways. Vivien and Riven were quick to race to a ride called Pharaoh's Fury, eager to prove that they could handle the pendulum-style ride. Royce and Bentley followed the skating duo but quickly branched off to the nearby Scrambler when Bentley saw just what the Pharaoh’s Fury entailed. As Miles and Carrie wandered off to find something to do, Butchy allowed Mick to guide him around the fairgrounds.
They walked in relative silence, the screams of people on rides and the calls from game operators the only sounds nearby. Butchy wondered what could be going on in Mick’s head. She hadn’t said much of anything since the night before and, while Butchy didn’t want to press her to talk, he missed the sound of her voice. Taking in a breath, Butchy looked around and offered, “Would you like some cotton candy?”
Mick looked up at him and thought for a moment before shaking her head, “Not right now. I think I’ll wait until after we go on some rides to eat anything.”
“Where would you like to go first?” he asked.
With a sigh, Mick looked around and shrugged, “I have no idea.”
Butchy allowed her to look around, taking in the different rides and attractions before asking, “Mickie, are you alright?”
Peering curiously up at her husband, Mick slowly replied, “I was until you asked. Why?”
“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” Butchy stated, “and, usually, you have days like this planned down to the tiniest detail. I was just worried.”
Heaving a sigh, Mick shook her head, “I just have a lot on my mind today. I wanted to talk with you about it when we’re alone, but it doesn’t seem like that will be any time soon.”
Deciding it would be best to inadvertently hit the nail on the head, Butchy lowered his voice and asked, “Is it about that rumor that was going around camp?” When Mick’s wide eyes met his, Butchy sighed, “I don’t know what you heard, but I swear, I didn’t take kitchen duty this week in order to poison Carrie. Not only would it risk poisoning everyone at camp, but it would also make me the number one suspect in her murder, according to Vivien.”
Mick stopped in her tracks and, once Butchy turned back to face her, she asked, “Wait, so you’ve had rumors going around about you this week too?”
“Yeah,” Butchy claimed. “I’m assuming you have too?”
“Yeah,” Mick breathed. “Everyone was saying I was pregnant.”
Butchy froze as though he was hearing this for the first time. Looking his wife over, he took a step closer to her, taking her by the arms as he softly asked, “You’re not?”
“No,” Mick giggled, “I just said it was a rumor.”
Butchy glanced around before quietly saying, “We can change that, if you’d like.”
Mick’s eyes widened as she muttered, “What?”
“It doesn’t have to be a rumor.” With a teasing smirk, Butchy continued, “We could sneak off to the car and nobody would know.”
A shocked noise left Mick and her face burned as she squawked, “Butchy!”
“What?” Butchy asked in mock-astonishment. “I just thought we could go get one of those fake pregnancy tests from that joke shop near Walmart. I don’t know what you were thinking we’d be doing.”
Mick smacked Butchy’s chest as she huffed, “Remind me why I married you.”
“I wish I knew,” Butchy chuckled as he brought an arm around Mick’s shoulders. “I think you were just in it for the motorcycle and I was like the cruddy little prize at the bottom of the cereal box - unnecessary, but you still took it anyway.”
“Sounds about right,” Mick said with a smile, nudging Butchy with her elbow before bringing her arm around his middle. “So, you never heard about the pregnancy rumor?”
“Not until you said something,” Butchy stated. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He had heard her say it the night before, but she didn’t need to know that. “What about you? Had you heard about me poisoning Carrie?”
Mick snorted, “No, but to be honest, I wouldn’t put that past you.”
Acting as though he’d been shot in the heart, Butchy brought a hand to his chest and gasped, “And here I thought you’d be my alibi for the crime.”
“Yeah, no,” Mick said with a shake of her head as she led her husband toward a swinging chair ride. “You and I both know I’m a terrible liar, so the chances of that happening are slim to none.”
“Guess that means I should put the antifreeze back in the truck, then, huh?”
“Butchy!”
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Forbidden love
Chapter two: an interesting surprise
After a long walk you've reached the mountains "finally I'm here, time to collect firewood"you said to yourself. You took out your axe and you've started chopping and collecting wood.
After a while you had grown tired so you took a short break,it was already noon and you're pretty much hungry, so you decided to go back to the village to find something to gobble down your hungry stomach. Once you've reached the village you went into a ramen shop and ordered some raman or whatever the fuck they serve in those shops "miss your order is ready"the server told you "oh thank you sir,how much do i owe you?"i asked "100yen miss" the server said and i handed the money, the food was very tasty that i finished it very fast "thank you for the food sir" i said while leaving the shop.
I went back to the mountain to finish collecting wood until the sun sets.
'Already the sun is setting? Well i guess i better head home' i thought as i carry my bag back to our village,but before i even reached my hometown it was already night so i stayed in a nearby center to sleep and i would return home in the morning.
Nung pag-gising ko sa aking maganda na tulog
Translation'when i woke up from my amazing sleep
'shit i better get home' i spoke to myself as i took my things and ran back to my village.
Once i've gotten to the village everything was normal until i reached near my home i felt, warm liquid around the house, mom told me i can feel things even without touching them or even if they're far 'is it? Blood?!' thoughts ran though my mind as i ran inside my house "AHHHHH!!!" i screamed as my thoughts were right. She's there lying down, the red wine blood covered the floor "MOM!" I said as i ran towards her lifeless body, tears started to touch my skin as i look at her body "Mom are you ok?!" I say "How the fuck does she look ok?" A voice from behind spoke, i was a man with white hair, almond eyes and an open chest top, he was also armed with a weapon A katana to be exact "who are you and did you end my mothers life?" I said giving him a death stare "no I'm the one who killed the demon who killed your mother you're welcome bitch! And im Sanemi, im a fucking demon slayer " the guy said,if looks could kill he would have been dead meat like my mom right now, i took out my dagger and tried to attack him but he was fast acting and he hit me from behind, then everything went black.
I woke up in a room,it was a nice room it had nude wall, a window beside me,and the view was amazing there were a bunch of butterflies flying around and some random woman who has purple streaks in her hair and has a butterfly hair accessory,with a blink of an eye she was now beside me "moshi-moshi~, you're finally awake,welcome to my butterfly mansion,Mr. Sanemi brought you here. He said he was trying to explain to you that he killed the demon who killed your mother but you tried to attack him so he brought you here, oh i forgot to tell you my name is Shinobu" the woman explained with a big smile "oh, hello there Shinobu my names y/n nice to meet you, so demons are real?" I asked her "yes they are real and they eat humans so us demon slayer are here to hunt them down,thats our job" Shinobu tells me "then, if this is what you do i want to join" i said with a serious and calm expression, i am going to avenge my mother,sister and everyone who was harmed by the demons "well then I'll help you." Shinobu said smiling as always.
A/n: a new chapter hope you enjoy. Btw douma will be shown in chapter 3 so sorry for the delay
Yukki out
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Worth The Feeling
Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.
Epilogue
Eight Years Later
"No, no, January is going to be perfect. I was able to sign off on pre-production so we're good to go." Alice's excited voice chirps through my phone.
"Does this mean...We're greenlit?" I ask with equal enthusiasm.
"We're greenlit!" She practically sings.
"Oh my god!" I dance around my office, despite the fact that I'm completely alone inside of it, and one of the walls is made completely of glass. Whatever. It won't be the first time my team has seen this kind of excitable outburst from me.
"Thank you, Alice! I need to tell Lana and Patrick."
"Absolutely, go, go. I'll talk to you later, Director." I can't help but get choked up as she says it. When Alice directed her first film, I was lucky enough to have worked my way up to be an assistant director. After two films together, she moved on to producing and reached out to me when she opened up her production company last year. I adored working with her. I never got to interact with her too much as a PA at Norwick, but with her directing, it was an entirely new playing field. She was calm, concise, and driven. I jumped at the opportunity as soon as she had asked me, even though it is the most terrifying and exhilarating thing I've done in my life.
My first project as a director, officially greenlit. Set to start production in January.
I want to tell Javi first, but I can't help but head straight for the door, opening it to my team sitting at their desks outside. Lana is the first to peak up at me, before she nudges Patrick, our screenwriter, next to her.
"Are we—?" She asks, nearly holding her breath.
"We're greenlit!" I exclaim, and Lana is instantly at my side, wrapping me in a tight hug. Patrick and the rest of the team hoot and holler, and Lana and I jump up and down, still holding onto each other.
"It's going to be a lot," I say quietly to Lana, "I know we're ready but–"
"Can you do me a favor and enjoy yourself?" Lana playfully pinches my arm. "You've earned it. We all have. Aves, it's going to be amazing."
Patrick is next to me then, and I wrap him in a hug next.
"We couldn't have done it without your words, Pat."
"I don't believe that for a second, but God am I excited for some job security."
I laugh, and several of the team members shout in agreement.
"I can't wait to tell Mia!" Lana says, already dialing her wife's number. We had promised Mia that if we were actually able to make this happen, her newly opened coffeehouse would be featured in the film. Shouldn't be too difficult to coordinate when your wife is the sound designer and your best friend is the director. She'll be thrilled, not that she needs any additional advertisement. Mia opened up the place just before they got married two years ago, and it's been thriving ever since.
"I feel like I'm walking into good news?"
My heart flutters at the warm voice filling our small office. I look to my right, and sure enough, Javi is walking in carrying a bag full of take out boxes, a broad smile lighting up his handsome face. He sets the bag down on the board room table, raising his eyebrows at me expectantly.
"We start filming in January!" I squeal.
Patrick moves back to his desk, typing eagerly on his phone, just as Lana moves toward the stairwell. I hear her tell Mia the good news as soon as the door closes.
Javi is in front of me now, giving me the same proud smile I've seen hundreds of times over the past eight years.
"Congratulations, my love." He brings my hand to kiss lips, kissing the top of it first before kissing the ring on my finger. That was his latest thing. He asked me to marry him just a few months ago on our hiatus trip back to Italy. We decided we should properly see the city now that he and I were old news to the press. That first year was tricky, many people commenting on our work together, and our age difference. But as our love grew, the noise died down. People began to realize that this was real. And eventually, thankfully, the headlines started to turn positive, until they eventually began to focus mainly on our work.
We had agreed to wait until I was at least an assistant director before Javi popped the question. He had a hard time waiting, often sending me incredibly unsubtle hints about rings and venues. So I was prepared for him to propose eventually. What I wasn't prepared for was him getting the same hotel room he had stayed in during our time in Italy. He set up a moonlit dinner on the roof by the pool, a slightly upgraded version to the pizza he had brought me so many years ago, and he asked for my hand. Javi, however old fashioned it may be, had already visited both my parents in person to ask for permission. They were overjoyed of course, and they still spoke weekly. And for me, it was the easiest choice I've ever made.
Javi's deep brown eyes look up into mine as he pulls his lips back from my finger.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "Your support has made all the difference, just in case I haven't told you."
"You may have mentioned it once or twice." He kisses my cheek, pulling me in for a hug.
When we release each other, I ask, "Do you have a second to talk in my office?"
He smirks at the formality. "Of course."
Javi follows me inside and I click the door behind me. He leans against the front of my desk, arms folded across his chest.
"Well, Mr. Gutierrez, I've been chatting with Alice and I have a favor to ask." I use my most professional tone, walking around the other side of my desk, forcing him to turn and face me.
"I thought I told you to call me Javi," He jokes.
I blush at the memory, smiling to myself over how the tables have turned. When he had first asked me to call him Javi, I was escorting him back to his trailer for lunch. Today, he's bringing me lunch to my office where I want to discuss my feature film.
"In that case, Javi, would you happen to be free this upcoming January through, perhaps, April?"
His eyes narrow, but his smile grows wider. "Are you offering me a job, Ms. Cohen?"
"Yes. Alice and I think you'd be the perfect supporting cast member. And please, you can call me Mrs. Gutierrez." I can't help but laugh as I say it.
"Oh, I intend to." Javi's voice is low and serious, coated with anticipation despite my humorous tone. I clear my throat. I need to make sure I can actually get his approval before I completely lose my head.
"In all seriousness, if you want the part, it's yours. There is no pressure to accept it. I obviously think you'd be perfect, and I checked with Danielle and I don't think it should clash with your upcoming projects but that doesn't mean—"
Javi crosses over to my side of the desk, cupping my face in his hands to shut me up.
"I'd love to. I've read the part, it's fantastic. The whole project."
I nod, meeting his tender gaze.
"I'm serious though, Javi. How would you feel about me directing you?"
He seems to consider it for a moment, looking into my eyes and down to my lips. "We've worked together before, and I would say it went pretty well." He presses a light kiss to my lips before dropping his voice down to a whisper. "And regardless of a director's chair or not, I plan on following both you and your directions for a long, long time."
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me through my giggles. I had that same euphoric feeling I had in Italy when he got on one knee. That feeling that all the noise, the nerves, and the opinions were all worth it. He is worth it all, and he made me feel as though I am too.
Previous Chapter
Series Masterlist
a/n: if you’ve made it to the end of my story, thank you so much for reading it!! 🤍 This was my first attempt at fanfiction & I was nervous to post. I appreciate anyone for taking the time to give it a read! I’m working on more now & hope to post in the near future 🫶🏻
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x original characters#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#javi gutierrez fanfiction#javi gutierrez smut#javi gutierrez x you#javi gutierrez x reader#javi gutierrez fluff
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a success story ++ how i did it.
what did i get ?
so recently i manifested a new house + a superior job to mom ++ large amounts of money coming toward all of us. THOSE WERE UNDER A WEEK.
i also started building my dream wardrobe slowly with amazing clothing items. bought bags, my desired skincare products + desired makeup items too.
Eating sushi and dumplings for the first time !! DUMPLINGS WERE FIRE !! sushi was good, and i ate avocado for the first time?? i discovered I'm not into it in any way and removed it along w sushi from my life board at Pinterest (I was planning to be eating am sushi in my life along w avocado in my salads or wtv)
basically everything is going perfectly my way lately and everything feels very amazing.
what i actually did ?
A PINTEREST BOARD trust me, it's like a vision board and your mind needs a guide to know where it's going. make a Pinterest board with everything you want, and take a look at it affirming "my life is exactly like what I'm looking at rn" or wtv affs you like, you can use a sub too. Just add wtv you desire type of beauty, desired body, your lifestyle, fashion, grades, room, house, car, items, food. Literally everything ! I literally ate the same sushi that was in my board + bought same skincare and makeup products. It's so powerful. ( You can use a sub along w it.)
I had a mindset playlist. it included everything i ever thought i needed. yk like master manifestor / manifest for others ect.
it can be at any length tbh, depends on the how much time you have at morning! you can listen to the 10 mins the only sub you'll ever need by iwantitigetit or her recent one or v1per's whatever. You can ask for my recommendations too !
anyways once the playlist is ready (can even include one sub) you go prepare your daily affirmations. just a collection of affirmations that you'll repeat ×3 times.
For me - i had two parts of affirmations. Ones with self concept + self esteem + self love + self confidence affirmations.
the other with the i am a master manifestor, everything works out in my favour, i am living my dream life +++ specific affirmations with a feeling (creds to the owner) like I feel so safe and secure now that I have moved into my desired house.... something like that, the feeling can be gratitude.
AND THAT'S IT. Literally.
ill share the affirmations i used to say (creds to the owner since I stole them from random affs posts i saw in here + ig)
the affirmations.
SELF CONCEPT : My manifesting journey has always been easy fun and beautiful.
I’ve always been a master at manifesting. I’ve already manifested everything I wanted. I accept my power to create the life of my dreams I’m beyond powerful and in control nothing can deny my desires. I live in a state of bliss pleasure stable calmness peace and wealth. I’m divinely blessed in life. my life keep changing for the better. I’m a magnet for miracles blessings and abundance. Good things keep happening to me. My life has always been perfect I am always in a good mood and state of life. everything is perfect and I worry about nothing. I’m completely healed inside and out. I have a perfect mental health. I’ve never been healthier and happier. I am enough worthy and safe. I am the girl who has it all. I am worthy of everything I want. I am worthy of everything I have. I am stable and secure. I’m always safe and protected. I’m a master at manifesting. I can have anything I want. my life is beyond perfection. I manifest what I want effortlessly. I’ve always been rich. I can afford anything I want.
AFFIRMATIONS :
I literally have all my desires in a blink of an eye. I always get what I want no matter what. It’s insane how many blessings and abundance rains down on me. I'm so blessed. I’m the chosen one, the luckiest person on earth. My life is always on the right path to true success happiness abundance and love. Everyone aspires to be me and do all the things I do. I live a life of extreme luxury and wealth. Everything I touch turns to gold.I can afford anything I want. I get pampered and spoiled every single day. Im the type of cool you can’t buy or fake. I’m ambitious driven and disciplined. Nothing can stop me.
I’m the most successful and wealthy person to ever exist. Every time I breathe I’m sent a miracle blessing and money. I have men and women all over me. I’m pursued by the hottest richest and nicest people. People always respect me. People would move mountains for me. i’m always the first choice and top priority. I’m so beyond spoiled and rich it’s insane how much I have. everyone wants to spoil me that’s why I receive the VIP treatment 24/7. I deserve the absolute best and most lavish in life and I’m getting it. My self concept and self esteem is sky high. Nothing can break my confidence. I’m one of a kind and everyone knows it.
CHALLENGE AFFIRMATIONS : i am living my dream life. I have my ideal face, I have my ideal body, I live in mom's ideal house and have my ideal room, mom has her ideal job and i study my ideal major in my ideal country and city, every wish of mine is granted. i manifest effortlessly. everything always goes my way. i deserve the best and i never settle for less. i only get princess treatment. my friend group loves and supports me. my mom and siblings are loving and supportive. i am full of love for myself. i am never ashamed to put myself first. i am at peace with myself and others. I am unbothered. I do my own thing proudly. I am so incredibly happy and grateful that I get to live such an amazing life. I get richer day by day. everytime i blink i earn money. getting money is so easy for me. i can afford everything I want. my money is always wisely spent. being rich is my destiny. i am basically an extremely powerful money magnet. i have always been rich. I always have more than enough money. I am literally a billionaire. I am worthy of being rich.
the end <3
IT IS LONG I KNOW my sub playlist was like + an hour long. i just have so many free time at morning so. you can do yours at night, whenever you're free. GOOD LUCK !!
#loa#subliminals#law of assumption#manifest#manifestation#success story#affirmations#affirm and persist
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So I tried to translate the new interview with Dominik. Here's part 1 for all of you out there
I: Everything's good if the end is good?
D: Usually it is.
I: It was very interesting to watch you after the final whistle. Can you remember how you were feeling? What were you thinking?
D:Not only after the final whistle, I'm not sure when we got the second goal, in the 75 minute I think. about what went through me in the last twenty minutes…a lot of things. To be honest, I never give up and trust 120 percent in myself and my team but in that moment when I was standing at the kick-off that 120 percent lowered 119, and for a very little bit I lost my faith. But I knew it couldn’t end like this. So…as it was visible in the last twenty minutes, I tried to play like it was only the start of the match, I tried to keep every ball, I tried, like the others, to win as many one on one fights we could, I tried all types of the free kicks and the corner kicks. And we did have some chances afterwards, unfortunately we couldn’t score from the ones prior to the last goal. But just like you said, everything is good if the end is good.
I: Do you know why that 1 percent was missing?
D: Because, because everything started so well, we started the game so well, because in the first fifteen-twenty minutes they had no chance. We are leading 1-0, they get a red card, we are one man up, then they get a second red, which I think was 50-50, if you give it you give it, if you don’t you don’t, it’s up to the referee. But it was all in our hands, maybe it was the problem that we calmed down, that we can handle it from here. And of course we have a clever Milos over here, he had been told in three languages to please play clever and don’t do anything stupid…57th minute, red card. I was like okay, it’s not a problem, it’s like the game would start now, becaus we had the same number of players. But we are not allowed to let them come onto us, get into or half, the lad ran through four of our men, does the solo of his life, and gets a penalty. Which, to be honest, he ran into Szalai…and they didn't look it back. Anyways, I told the ref at the beginning that I won’t speak, because I already have two yellows, so even if there is a doubtful situation, I leave from there. It’s visible at the penalty that I didn’t even go there, because I really want to play against Montenegro, no matter how it ends. And as the lad scored it I was just staring ahead, after the match I spoke with Lang, and he said the same that he never saw me so lost in the darkness. From an easy match, that could’ve ended pretty fast, we made something like this. But after a minute I clicked back, that was enough to get myself together, then I continued to do my job.
I: Prior to the Lithuanian match, or I rather say after defeating the Serbs there was a chance that the team could be drawn from the first pot. How much attention did you pay to this before the game against Lithuania? And there was still a chance before the Bulgarian game, that you could get into the top six, or in the top five plus the host country?
D: To be honest, yes we did think about it a little bit, but the main goal was to qualify. For the past it was to play in the play-offs and qualify from there, and now thinking about the first pot, it’s a bit of a big jump I think. So, yeah, of course it would’ve been great but this is how it happened, we’re going to the Euros.
I: How stressed were you at the end of the Bulgarian game that the one against Montenegro might be a one on one, to decide who qualifies? Did you think about it in the last twenty minutes?
D: Yes, in those two minutes while I was waiting for the game to continue after the goal, everything went through my mind. In head I was already getting ready for the Montenegro game, but after those two minutes I was like, there won't be a one on one game, we’ll score one now.
I: It’s pretty interesting, on the internet you can find recordings, I’ll show it a bit later, about the situation before the first goal. Ádám Martin told it refined, in the game a bit less refined, where to kick the free kick, you basically kicked him in the head, because you are able to do that. (He means he has so good ball control that he could place it right where his teammate wanted, I’m not sure if it was understandable from the mirror translation) At the second free kick, from what the goal happened, did you say anything to anyone about where will you put it, and asked them to be there or was it totally different?
D: No, no. I was thinking a lot, seeing how much time was remaining, and I was thinking I should aim for the goal, but I knew that’s too much of a risk. It was around 40 meters I think, I thought about my goal against Turkey, and about taking the risk. It’s either a very big goal or it goes so far they’ll have to search for the ball for two days. Then I started to think what would be better, if no one touched a ball, if someone barely did, if it went on from us or from them, it’s all the same as long as it’s a goal. And you can see it on the video. I stopped where I was, in total shock, because I didn’t know what was going on, was it a foul, was it an off-side, did something happen. So I couldn’t really celebrate because I was frozen in place, later I was a little happy.
I: A little bypass, but I’m very curious, because it’s a big talking point in England. How did VAR change you, players, in these types of situations?
D: Very much, if there’s no VAR I’ll run out of the world. No, but really, because only then do I know that it was really a goal. But the referee whistled, and did one like this (he raised his arm and pointed somewhere), which could mean a free kick outside or that he points at the middle for a kick-off. But yeah, there I said we got it.
I: You have an interview, we could see it on the internet, that you gave to a Bulgarian college, he only asked if you could celebrate, or if you did celebrate. You seemed to be very tense there as well. Were you, or did you just have enough and wanted to go home?
D: No, I was tense, and I also had enough, and it was good to release the steam a bit in there. And honestly, how can you ask something like that…the answer was easy, we did celebrate, but normally you don’t ask something like this from someone who qualified for the Euros.
I: Yeah, I agree absolutely. And it’s really something that never happened in our lifetime before, that you qualify as number one from the group. But there is still a match for the first place. How hard is it to concentrate on it, that you should get first place, how important is it to be first in the group? Is it important because of what pot the team will get into, or there’s really no difference between the second and the third pot. Or do you want to play great for the fans?
D: It’s a good question, because again, this must be achieved. I…I don’t think it’s evident, so we achieved a level, that as I said it before, is thanks to us. And we placed expectations high, and we talked about it today that we are the team with the longest undefeated run in the world, so it’s very good being in this, and continuing it. But I don’t know after how many years, or if we ever before qualified for the Euros from our group…I’m not sure if I remember correctly.
I: For example, the last time we had an undefeated year was 1976.
D: So yeah, we did achieve something that hasn’t been since 1976, as you say. And everyone must be proud of this really, because everyone put so much effort into it, the players, the staff members, the physiotherapists, the coach, everyone. No one is here because...or we are not where we are because of me or because of the other player or because of the gaffer, but because we are together in this and everyone knows their role in this. I don’t think it’s evident that we have to qualify as number one, of course as you said, it would be good, we are on it and the fans also deserve a match like that to finish this year with.
I: Are you happy that that game will be held on Sunday afternoon, and you’ll have a bit of time, not to rest, but to regenerate before the derby against City?
D: I’m happy, but if it was on Tuesday, that wouldn’t be a problem either, I could rest enough, I'm still young. But it’s good that the game is at three o’clock, probably more kids could come to the game because it’s not so late, so I’m happy. The atmosphere will be very good, I hope at least.
I: You mentioned that you placed the expectations high for yourselves, and I totally agree. It’s not coming from Hungarian football, for example that you have to fight for a group win in the National Leagues. Or now, that you could qualify as number one from the group to the Euros while the Italians fight and the Polish are suffering, and Ireland can’t even qualify at this point. How hard is it to deal with the growing popularity, that no question exists currently, because twice as many people sit down to watch a National team game than they did three or five years ago.
D: It's not pressure, or at least everyone deals with it differently…
I: How do you?
D: For me it’s not pressure. Really there’s only a few things that can put me under pressure, for example this game succeeded in this. But really, I know what I’m capable of, what my team is capable of and I think everyone knows about themselves what they can or can’t do. And that we achieved this level is only thanks to us. As I said, I love to be here, I would spend all my days here if I could. I never laugh as much as I do here at anywhere else, and in addition we are successful, so it’s amazing.
#dominik szoboszlai#hungarian national team#szoboszlai interview#my english is shit#don't kill me for it please#part 2 in the making
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as the resident VB connoisseur I would love to know your opinion on his dynamic with Guanyu. I see a lot of hero worship, soft dom/sub potential there. In general its nice to see someone so openly in awe of valtteri
anon plsss i read this and put it in my mental soup pot to stew for several hours, considering it. i really like guanyu and, you're right, he's been so openly complimentary of valtteri. from the outside looking in, it looks like vb is doing a good job of balancing the fact that they are innately competitors with being a mentor. it seems to me that while socializing on the grid is not necessarily a priority for valtteri, it is important to him to actively help cultivate a positive environment for guanyu. i respect that bc i feel similarly in my daily life: my circle is small, but it's small so that i can put all my energy into tending it very well. i can't imagine how nervous/scared guanyu was entering the f1 arena for the first time, i can only imagine how scared i would be, and separately and apart from my love & appreciation of vb, i'm extremely grateful that his new team and teammate have been welcoming. i hope that despite all the DNFs and inconsistency w/ alfa romeo's cars, he'll be able to look back and say that his rookie year was a good experience.
sorry i'm getting away from the point.
i think their dynamic deserves much inspection bc it is so multi-layered. on the surface, they seem to fit well bc they are both relatively calm, even-tempered, respectful, and focused on their jobs. but underneath that we know that they are really goofy, as evidenced by their respective social media, and i think they probably understand each other's sense of humor. we know they each have interests besides racing that they are passionate about and though those interests are different, differences tend to serve as complements in a healthy relationship.
one moment that has stuck with me since seeing it was during the pitstop podcast when guanyu admitted he's already thought about where he would take valtteri to eat if they visited shanghai. like he's already daydreamed about showing vb around his city ;_; bc he likes vb and wants to spend time n share experiences with him. that's so cute bro.
taking their dynamic into a dom/sub space is a new consideration for me! i'll put it under a cut
i think when i start considering relationships from a bdsm perspective, i generally find that i take a kernel of something to serve as the core. if i were gonna do that with these two, it would be this:
the fact that guanyu posted this on both twitter & weibo, and captioned it differently on weibo in his first language... don't even talk to me. he's not ready to be vulnerable where vb could see and understand it but he's gotta speak his truth somehow!!! haven't we all been there with a crush? extremely relatable, babe.
and maybe that's the heart of it! guanyu didn't know what to expect, meeting valtteri, besides perhaps professional courtesy. he didn't expect to be seen, considered, and treated so equally! he didn't expect valtteri to notice how nervous he was before his first f1 race and to take time out to calm him down. and we all know that the recipe for imprinting on someone is to: a) be removed of your usual comforts and support b) experience a high intensity of pressure c) that someone shows you an unexpected kindness when you really need it. i feel like we've all been there, about to break down in tears because a random stranger was nice to us on a bad day. you really feel that shit hit, right? like idk you but i'm more grateful for you than anyone else in this world right now.
and that was just their beginning. now, valtteri's been a lighthouse in the storm for many many months. a calming touch point after frantic races, poor results. always there with a word of comfort, to pump him back up after he's been deflated, always a big hand on his shoulder or patting his back. the first time guanyu curls in and turns the gesture into a hug instead, he's sort of shocked at himself, but even more shocked at how valtteri reciprocates the hug without hesitation.
guanyu feels like he'll remember that first hug for the rest of his life. wants it all the time, the feeling of valtteri's chest against his, wrapped in his arms. on bad days, dreams about it ending with a forehead kiss. on worse days, hamstrung by homesickness and the pressure of his first year, dreams about it ending with a mouth kiss. it's not an instant physical attraction, but a gradual one, where one day guanyu realizes he's staring at the patch of grey whiskers in valtteri's beard while he talks and identifies that the itch he feels is the urge to touch it. he feels guilty and embarrassed by that, tries not to think about it too much, but it's undeniably baked into his brain. how he thinks of valtteri as a guiding hand, a steady presence, a calming voice of reason. qualities that he wants to consume, that he wants to embody, that he wants to be submerged in.
and i think of valtteri as such a competent, focused soft dom. he sees guanyu responding to his advice, engaging with his questions, turning shy at valtteri's praise. he knows, he's familiar with the type of person who has all the makings of greatness but is still too young to realize their own power, too young to feel much besides lost. and feeling lost is never nice. valtteri knows. he wants to make him feel better.
idk where i'm ultimately going with this but i think the image i'm conjuring in my mind is of a late night, after a race that yielded mediocre results, they've met up for a drink. in a dark bar. guanyu has expressed frustration, insecurity. the bar is emptying out. it's late. the bartender abandons his post to fetch more stock from the backroom and so, free of watchful eyes, valtteri dares to reach out, card his fingers through guanyu's silky-soft hair. "you're doing good," he says, lowly. guanyu sort of froze at the touch, and now his eyes drop from valtteri's. "i'm serious," valtteri continues. "you're doing a great job. everyone can see it."
and guanyu swallows hard, tries to fight his blush. because valtteri has said so little, but it means so much, and the truth is that he would follow that reassuring voice anywhere. especially to a bedroom.
#well this got out of hand#hm. HMM. much to think about.#i actually didn't want to stop i just had to make myself#thanks for presenting me w this opportunity to explore and play anon#hope ur still around to read it 😂#ask#anon#valtteri bottas#zhou guanyu#f1
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Not So Innocent
mature topics such as violence, death, and trauma discussed in this story. all chapters in masterlist
Chapter Fourteen
You fall asleep, knowing this will be the last time you do so with Spencer, the man you love. He's been asleep for a while now, but finally you join him in the slumber. Your heart breaks at the sight of his sad face when you say goodbye in your dreams.
They say love is pain, well darling let's hurt tonight.
You finally stir up, seeing Spencer slipping on his black and white shoes. He's dressed in work clothes. There must be a case.
You fight to keep your eyes open, but it's difficult. He leaves the room softly, not wanting to wake you up. After a minute, your brain finally wakes up and you run to the kitchen where Spencer is.
You wrap your arms around him before he can open the door. He returns the hug, chuckling and asking what was wrong.
"I'm just going to miss you." You sigh into his chest.
"I probably won't be gone long."
You nod your head, still on his chest. "I love you." You didn't really mean to say it. It just came out. Like a truth bomb after someone takes a serum in those weird sci-fi movies.
He seems taken aback. "I- I love you too."
Spencer said it back. He had to have meant it because you don't think he'd say something he didn't mean. Oh no. This really has gone too far. Shit.
You look up at him, still in the hug. He grabs your face and plants a kiss on your lips. "I've got to go," Spencer says with a frown.
You nod your head again, releasing him. He leaves out of the apartment door, and you sigh. Don't cry don't cry don't cry.
You lean with your back against the door, hands rubbing your temples. Shit. You really don't want to fucking hurt him, but you know leaving will hurt too. None of the outcomes of this situation end well. Either you leave, and you both lose the one you love, or you stay and lie to him every single day. Every option ends with both of you getting hurt. And it's all your fault.
Your phone rings around eleven AM. "What do you want now, Aiden?"
"Hello, kiddo."
Holy fucking shit. It's not Aiden...
"Pops?" You swallow.
"Yes it's me. I'm calling you from prison," his tone is sarcastically calm.
The trial must've passed, and you didn't hear about it because you hadn't asked Spencer anything important.
"I..."
"Save it. You didn't do your job. You know how that ends. I will get my guys to track you down, and you and whoever the hell you're staying with will pay."
"I'm not staying with anybody."
"Oh please. I know you can't be by yourself. You may think you’re so tough, but you're really just a big baby. Does this person know you're a murderer?"
"You made me,” your voice shakes.
"That doesn't make you innocent, baby girl."
You hang up, throwing your phone on the ground. It cracks a bit, but you couldn't give any less of a shit. Tears burn at your eyes. You have to leave soon. If they find you now, they'll find Spencer. Yes, he's an FBI agent and can fend for himself and has a team, but you can't put him in danger. That'd make you even worse of a person than you already are… if that’s possible.
You hop into the shower, trying to calm the tears running down your face. Instead, the salty tears mix with the water. You yell, pounding your fist against the shower wall.
You change into jeans, boots, and a sweater and pack everything back into your bag. Your knife is put into your boots.
You rip a piece of paper out of a journal of Spencer's and grab a pen. You begin writing.
When you're done, you sit on his bed. Your head rests in your hands. You've just ruined a perfectly good man's life.
You walk out of Spencer Reid's bed room, everything with you and ready to leave. Your not so brilliant plan is to take a bunch of urbers until you get far enough away. Then you can find your way to another state and start a new life, alone.
The door bursts open several feet in front of you. You drop the handle of your suitcase.
"Y/n Y/l/n, you are under arrest for the murders of 23 people and gang association.”
An authoritative and attractive dark headed agent you've seen before handcuffs your hands behind your back. She makes them tight.
You cooperate, letting her push you toward the door.
"So you're not even going to defend yourself," Spencer comes into the apartment, facing directly at you.
"Spencer," you breathe.
"Why the hell would you bring me into this? If you're going to be criminal, don't fucking flirt with a federal agent."
"I'm so..."
"Your first mistake was thinking I wouldn't eventually figure it out. My stupid mistake was not figuring it out soon enough. You're a really good fuckin' liar." His face is angry and sad mixed in one.
"I didn't want you find out this way," your eyes burn with tears again.
"So what? You pretend you love me, then you were going to leave? What do you gain from this?”
"I needed to leave to protect you… and I-I wasn't pretending."
"I have a hard time believing that's true,” he rolls his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Spencer."
"Get her out of here,” he commands. Your heart shatters with just five words.
Tears stream down your face as he won't even look at you while you're being taken out of the apartment. You're pushed into the back of a car and driven to the interrogation room at Quantico. Flashbacks begin to swim in your mind of the last time you were in one of these rooms.
You admit to everything you've done, barely giving an explanation as to why. You were a killer, there's no use in telling them you couldn't get out of it. It's not like they'd believe you anyway. You tell them what you did for the gang, they listened in shock.
"How'd you get into a gang like that?"
"It was either that or be an orphan,” you answer honestly.
"Why Spencer?" the pretty blonde agent asks. She stops leaning on the wall and crosses her arms.
"He was kind, and I needed someone like him. I didn't realize what I was doing. I mean I did, but," you shake your head, "it wasn't supposed to end like that….How is he?"
"I don't think you have a right to ask that."
You nod your head as another tear rolls down your face. You look down at your handcuffed hands on the table, feeling sick.
Where there is love, there is pain.
—
Spencer lays down on his bed in silence. He hasn't been a work for a few days, and he hasn't really felt like doing anything.
People aren't lying when they say love is blind; he was too caught up in her to realize he was being tricked. A genius with amazing profiling skills didn't realize he was being lied to every single day.
She did it with such ease- the way she talked about her old life with her parents, college, the kidnapping, the way she said "I love you" . He couldn't believe any of that was real now. She said it and seemed like she meant it, but there’s no way in hell she did. How could someone say they loved someone else and not mean it? And how did she lie so easily?
When grabbing a pair of sweats, he finds a piece of paper folded up. He unfolds it and begins to read it.
"Spencer, I'm so sorry. For everything. When you're reading this, I'm hopefully long gone. You're doing your job right now, making people safe, and I have to go. I wish I didn't have to hurt you. I just want you to know that you helped me so much. With more than you'll ever comprehend even with that brilliant mind of yours. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for caring. And thank you for giving me what felt like a home for the first time in a long time. I've lied about so many things, and for that I cannot express how much guilt I will carry with me as I leave you behind. I love you. - Y/n."
A few tears falls from Spencer's eyes. He crumbles the note up, but puts it in his jean pocket.
Spencer was angry when he first found out. Angry at Y/n for lying and using him, but mostly angry at himself for not seeing it. He was angry for days and days, until now when he runs his hand through his hair and tries not to cry more.
Spencer releases a sigh from his mouth, and leaves his room. In the car, he makes a call to Hotch. He says he won't be coming in today either, that he needs some more time. His boss feels bad for him, so he allows this.
The team had been checking on his since the day of her arrest. JJ came by every day she could after work to see how he was doing. He didn't say much on the subject of her at all. No one knew how much this affected him, but they knew it hurt.
He pulls up to the prison hours later. He stares it down, taking in a deep breath.
"I'm Dr Spencer Reid with the FBI, I need to interview an inmate.” He flashes them his badge. They let him in, only because of his job.
After a moment, Spencer walks into the room where Y/n is handcuffed to the table.
—
You stare down at the handcuffs binding you to the table. Who could want to talk to you? When the door opens again, your heart drops. Spencer Reid stands in front of you with a stone face. He's beautiful even when he's angry and full of pain.
"Now I want an explanation. I think I deserve that,” he says sternly.
You nod, "You do deserve one."
"Why did you say you loved me?!"
You take in a breath. "I do love you. I didn't lie about that."
He flinches. “If you've lied about everything else, how can I believe that?”
"My feelings for you... What I feel for you is real, Spencer. I couldn't fake that."
"Just stop. Stop. Tell me why you lied about everything…Tell me everything."
You take a deep breath. "When I was sixteen, my parents died, and there was no family members that wanted to deal with a grieving brother and sister. So we were shipped off to some lovely family, and turns out they were leaders of some gang. And if we wanted a home, we had to join. If we didn't... well we were just collateral damage. So I became some type of precious hitwoman for them to force to do their bidding... and I couldn't stop..." you take another breath, fighting tears back. "I tried. I tried to get out, I tried to leave... but I saw second hand what happened when someone tried to leave them... I was 20, I didn't want to die. So I stayed. And I became used to it. It was like a second nature to me, which is horrible. I know how bad that sounds, but it's true.
"The day of the bust, when I saw you, when you stood over me, I knew that was my chance to get out. That was my chance to be free. Free from everything that I've done, everything that I've seen. So yeah, I lied about almost everything. And I'm not trying to make it seem like it was okay, but I didn't want to go to prison. I didn't want to be with people who loved doing what they did, who didn't feel any remorse for it. Because of course I felt bad. Of course I carry that guilt with me every single day. But I know how to hide that shit. So I'm sorry.. but I didn't lie when I said that I loved you."
Spencer Reid is shocked, wordless. You’d never seen him like this. His hazel, honey eyes well up with tear, but he pushes them back. He messes with his fingers, squeezing them. "I don't even know what to say... I- I'm sorry."
"Please don't be, I'm still a monster."
"You were threatened to do those things… you’re not a monster.”
"I wasn't threatened to lie to FBI agents about why I was there,” you say.
"It could get your sentenced lessened if you would speak up about how they made you,” he offers.
"Spencer, no. I deserve this."
"What if they have you executed?"
Your stomach turns, it seems like his does too.
"Then I die."
"Y/n, no. Look, as much as I'm pissed and upset about this and as much as I kind of hate you right now, you don't deserve all of this punishment. You were a kid."
"I can't ask of you to help me at all,” you shake your head.
"You didn't ask."
Tears spill from your eyes. The man you love, who you lied to, who is the opposite of everything you've done, walks out of the room ready to help. You don't deserve his help. You don't deserve him.
You were a monster in the arms of an angel you made you feel less broken and more free. He saved you in every way possible. He broke your chains and released you from your cage.
chapter fifteen
tags: @reidsprettygirl @reidsmilf @reidslovely @awhoreforspencerreid @sexualityisajoke @nomajdetective @kenreadsfanfics @calicocatty @hotchandspencearedilfs @kodiakwhiskey @rory-cakes @444verse @kbakery @crynroom <3
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#mgg x you#spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#mgg angst#mgg fic#spencer reid and reader#spencer reid series#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#mgg#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#spencer reid x fem!readr
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